The Secret Friend

35

The man named Walter Smith came into the room with his head bowed in either shame or embarrassment, maybe both. Hannah had a chance to look him over in the soft light.

His face had been badly burned. Even under all the makeup, she could see thick, bumpy scars. That's why he's keeping his head bowed, she thought. He doesn't want me staring at his face.

Knowing he was physically damaged made him seem inferior for some reason, less threatening. Hannah felt as though she might be able to reason with him. She could reason with anyone.

Walter held a wicker basket packed with an assortment of muffins and croissants. Tissue paper overflowed from the sides of the basket and the handle was decorated with ribbons. It reminded her of the getwell basket her father had bought on the morning after her mother's hysterectomy.

Hannah felt a sense of unease as she watched Walter place the basket on the table and retreat to the shadows near the sink. His hair was long, wet and messy. It looked too perfect. If it was a wig or a hairpiece, it was the best one she had ever seen.

Walter, his head still bowed, stared at the floor and cleared his throat.

'Your nose is looking better.'

Was it? She didn't have a mirror, but she had felt her nose with her fingers. It was still swollen. She wondered if it was broken.

'I'm sorry about what happened,' Walter said.

Hannah didn't answer, was afraid to answer. What if she said the wrong thing and set him off? If he came at her with his fists, she couldn't protect herself. He was too big, too strong.

'It was an accident,' he said. 'I would never hurt someone I love.'

A cold sweat broke across her skin.

You can't love me, she wanted to say. You don't even know me.

It was as though Walter had read her mind.

'I know all about you,' he said. 'Your name is Hannah Lee Givens. You graduated from Jackson High School in Des Moines, Iowa. You're a freshman at Northeastern University. You're majoring in English. You want to be a teacher. When you can afford it, you like to go to the movies. You go to the library and check out books by Nora Roberts and Nicholas Evans. I can bring you some of those books, if you'd like, and movies. Just tell me what you want and I'll get it. We can watch movies together.' Walter looked up and forced a smile. 'Is there something you'd like to see?'

How long had he been following her? And why hadn't she seen him?

Walter seemed to be waiting for her to answer.

What had the writer in the notebook said? That's what feeds him, talking. He needs to talk, needs to connect.

Hannah wanted him to leave so she could get back to the notebook and read what else this woman had written about Walter. Maybe there was something in there that could help her figure out a way to escape – and she would escape. She would find a way. Hannah Lee Givens knew she wouldn't live down here forever – and she sure as hell wasn't going to be used as a punching bag. She just needed to figure out a way to survive until she was found.

'You're still upset,' Walter said. 'I understand. I'll come back later with your dinner. Maybe we can talk then.'

He took out his wallet and waved it in front of the card reader. The lock clicked back. He didn't punch in a code. He opened the door but he didn't leave.

'I'm going to make you very happy, Hannah. I promise.'