Chapter 12

I blink my eyes open, squinting as I try to adjust to the light. I stretch in bed and yawn, my arms lifting instinctively. As my vision clears, I look around.

This place is unfamiliar.

It looks like a house. Or maybe a hotel. No. More like a house. A large one. This must be the master bedroom. I count three doors. One is clearly the bedroom door. The sliding mirrored door has to be the closet. The door straight across from the bed is likely the washroom.

I sit up slowly and scan the room again. It is decent and clean. A king-size bed sits in the centre, flanked by two bedside tables. My purse and phone are placed neatly on one of them.

That should calm me down, but it does not.

I try to remember what happened. The last thing I recall is the party. Dancing, eating, drinking. After that, nothing. No matter how hard I push, my mind gives me nothing back. It is completely black.

I push the comforter aside and stand, reaching for my phone. That is when I realize it.

I am not wearing anything.

Nothing at all.

I freeze.

I am completely naked in an unknown place.

Panic hits me all at once. Did I come here willingly, or was I brought here? What really happened? Why am I naked? My heart races as I look down at myself, inspecting every inch of my body, searching for marks, bruises, anything that might suggest someone touched me without consent.

There is nothing.

Before I can process that relief, the bathroom door opens, and Dr. Keller steps out.

He is wrapped in a white towel, fresh from the bath. His hair is still wet, falling loosely over his forehead. A few drops of water trail down his chest. The towel hangs low on his waist, looking like it could slip at any moment.

I stare.

For a moment, I completely forget that I am standing there without clothes.

His eyes move over me, curious and assessing. Then something shifts in those eyes. A realization, maybe. He looks away immediately. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

I snap out of it and grab the comforter, pulling it tight around my body. “There’s your dress,” he says, pointing toward the foot of the bed, still refusing to look at me.

I glance down. My red dress is folded neatly at the bottom of the bed. My panties are placed carefully on top.

“What happened yesterday?” I ask.

“Washroom’s there,” he says, nodding toward the bathroom as if he didn’t hear me. He turns, walks to the sliding glass door, opens it, steps outside, and closes it behind him.

I hesitate for a second, then gather my dress and walk into the bathroom, still wrapped in the comforter. I leave it by the door and shut it behind me.

The bathtub is already filled with warm water, steam still rising.

I sink into it slowly, letting the heat settle into my skin as I try to piece everything together. How did I end up here with Dr. Keller?

Images return in fragments. The parking lot, the creepy man, Dr. Keller stepping in, helping me into his car, then me vomiting everywhere.

My stomach twists. I ruined his expensive car. My dress must have been soaked. He had to deal with all of that. I close my eyes, tilt my head back, and scream silently.

Oh my God. What did I do?

I finish my bath slowly, taking my time. When I return to the bedroom, he is gone. I pull the blinds open and look outside. Across the road, there is only one other house. Beyond that, woods stretch in every direction.

I check my phone.

11.30.

My chest tightens. I am supposed to be at work.

I call Jake. He answers immediately. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Why didn’t I get a call when I didn’t show up for work?” I ask.

“You didn’t?” he says, surprised.

“I slept in,” I reply. “How did you not know I wasn’t there? You didn’t show up either.”

“They moved me to oncology,” he says.

“What? Oncology? For today?”

“No. Permanently. They said they’re severely short-staffed and need someone strong. Apparently, I got a glowing recommendation.” He pauses. “From Dr. Keller.”

Before I can respond, the bedroom door opens.

“I have to go,” I say quickly. “I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up before Jake can reply.

Dr. Keller walks in, dressed in the same clothes he wore last night.

“Why did you move Jake to oncology?” I ask immediately.

“Oh, that’s your boyfriend you were on the phone with?” he says, sounding a little jealous.

“He is not my boyfriend,” I snap.

“It looks that way to you,” he says, stepping closer. “Not to anyone else.”

“What other people think is none of my business.”

He steps closer again. I step back until my shoulders hit the wall. He places one arm on either side of me, trapping me there. He is close enough that I can feel his breath.

“I intend to make it my business,” he says firmly, his eyes locked on mine.

A cold chill runs through me, my skin prickling as my hair stands on end. “You cannot do that,” I say, even though something about the authority in his voice draws me in. No one has ever looked at me the way he does, so focused and intent. Even though I hate him for everything he has put me through, I feel exposed and vulnerable, especially with his face so close and his scent surrounding me.

The thought of reaching for his lips comes out of nowhere. The moment I realize how close I am to giving in, I push him away.

“I’m supposed to work,” I say, lowering my eyes. “Nobody called me.”

“Don’t worry. I cancelled your shift,” he pauses. “Breakfast is ready. Come eat something,” he says, walking toward the door. I follow him without another word.

Downstairs, the space opens into a combined kitchen and living area. The table is set with toast, eggs, cereal, milk, and coffee.

“Help yourself,” he says.

“You didn’t need to do this,” I say, taking a piece of toast.

He says nothing. He sits across from me, pours cereal into a bowl, and eats in silence.

After one bite, I set my toast down. “What happened yesterday?” I ask again.

“Nothing,” he says. “I took you to your place from the party. You refused to get out of the car, so I brought you here.”

He said he took me to my place. Does that mean he knows where I live?”

I go completely stiff as I ask, “Do you know where I live?”

“I know everything about you,” he says. “Even things you don’t know about yourself.”

My heart stutters. He seems to know everything about me… but what about the part where he says he knows things I don’t know? I don’t get it, and I don’t try to.

“Where is here?” I ask.

“One of my properties. In town. We usually Airbnb it.”

He sounds different. I mean, in a good way…softer, almost human.

“If you’re wondering whether anything happened between us,” he continues, “no. I didn’t do anything.” He pauses, lifting his gaze from the food and holding mine. “Though you wanted it.”

My face burns. “I wanted it?”

“You kissed me,” he says evenly. “You said you wanted to have sex with me. I stopped it. Nothing else happened. Now eat.”

I sit there, unmoving.

“If you want to remember things… in the future,” he adds, “don’t drink yourself into unconsciousness.”

That shuts down every question in my head. About my clothes. About the mess I made in his car. About waking up naked. About my cleaned dress. I stay silent and finish my food.

When I stand with my plate, he takes it from my hands. “You’re a guest. Don’t worry about it.”

He cleans the dishes and the table, placing everything neatly back where it belongs, not letting me help. Once everything is done, we leave.

Outside, the house is surrounded by trees. A river runs along one side. Seating areas are tucked away, private and quiet. Perfect for an Airbnb.

As we drive out, a woman from the house across the road steps toward us. He stops the car and rolls down the window.

“Thank you again for all the help,” he says.

“No worries,” she replies. “And thank you for the flowers and chocolates. That wasn’t necessary.”

She looks at me. “I’m Laurie. We met yesterday, but you weren’t really in a state to be introduced.”

“We met?” I ask.

“Oh, your brother didn’t tell you?”

Brother…? I look at Dr. Keller, but he doesn’t look my way.

“She just woke up,” he says. “Didn’t get a chance to explain.”

“You were in rough shape,” Laurie says gently. “Passed out. Threw up. Your brother cleaned you up, but asked me to help change your dress. We were outside by the fire, so I came over. He’s a real gentleman.”

“Yes, he is,” I acknowledge softly.

“By the way, congratulations on your graduation,” she adds.

I understand now. He must have told them a story, the brother and sister one, celebrating my graduation.

I decide to play along. “Thank you,” I say.

“Be careful next time,” she adds. “Even if it’s your day to celebrate. Your brother will not always be there to protect you. You’re lucky to have someone who looks out for you. Things could have ended very differently.”

“I’m really lucky to have him,” I say.

When I say it, he looks in my direction and winks. I regret it immediately.

We say goodbye and drive away slowly.