Stolen Read Online Free PDF Page B

industrial-sized batteries. There were wires attached to them, leading up to the ceiling, passing through several switches on the way. On the shelf above your head was a line of six kerosene lanterns. What would happen if I tipped one off? Would the impact stun you? How much time would it buy me to get away? You bent down, checked something, then flicked a switch.
    “Generator,” you said, nodding at the batteries. “This powers everything in the kitchen and the few lights we have around the house.”
    But I was still looking at the lamps. You saw, and took one down, pushing it into my hands. I grasped its bulging middle, and the thin metal handle shook against the glass. You started explaining how to use it. When you turned to get another, I lifted it toward you, but my arms were shaking too much to touch you with it. So I just stayed there, lamp midair, looking stupid. You realized what I wanted to do, though, and put the second lamp back on the shelf pretty quickly, then reached out for mine.
    “You can’t get rid of me with that,” you said, the corner of your mouth curling up.
    You took it from me, poured kerosene inside, and lit it. Then you pushed me from the room. Holding the lamp out in front, you led me back to the bedroom where I’d been sleeping.
    “This is your room,” you said. You moved toward the chest of drawers near the door. “You’ll find clean sheets here.”
    You opened the bottom drawer and showed me. Then you pulled open the two drawers above, revealing T-shirts, tank tops, shorts, pants, and sweaters. I ran my fingers over one of the T-shirts. It was beige colored and plain, size medium, and felt new.
    “It’ll fit, right?” you asked.
    I didn’t ask you how you knew what size I was. I just kept looking at the clothes. Everything was beige and boring. There were no brand names, nothing fancy. It looked like it had all been bought from a cheap department store. You pointed at the top two smaller drawers.
    “Underwear,” you said. Then you stepped back. But I didn’t look in that drawer, either.
    “I’ve got skirts and a dress or two, if you want them. They’re in the other room. They’re green.”
    I narrowed my eyes. Green was my favorite color. How did you know all this? Did you know all this? You turned toward the door.
    “I’ll show you the other rooms.” When you saw that I wasn’t following, you spun back and stepped up close to me, so close I could smell the smoke from your cigarette still lingering on your clothes. “Gemma, I won’t hurt you,” you said quietly.
    You turned again and left. In that semidarkness, I heard the walls moan, contracting as the day’s heat dissipated. I followed the light from your lantern to the next room down. There was a low foldout cot set up along one of the walls, with a mess of blankets across it. There was a bedside table beside it, a wardrobe against the opposite wall, and a wooden chest next to that.
    “I sleep in here, for now,” you said. You avoided my gaze. I avoided the way your words hung, unfinished.
    I already knew the bathroom. The next door beyond it led to a large closet. There was nothing much in there apart from a couple of brooms, a mop, and some metal boxes. I followed your lamp to the door opposite, the last room off the corridor. It was bigger than your bedroom, almost as big as the room you said was mine. There was a cabinet at one end, and an armchair. There were bookshelves down the entire length of one wall, though they weren’t exactly full. You opened the cabinet and showed me the games on the lowest shelf: UNO, Connect Four, Guess Who?, Twister. They were all games we’d had at home, games I could remember playing with friends, or on Christmas mornings with my parents. But these versions were faded and old, as if they’d come from consignment shops.
    “There’s a sewing machine, too, a guitar … sports things,” you said.
    I glanced at the books, neatly lined-up on the shelves. In the lamplight, I