Suzanne breathed in deeply, then let all the air out of her lungs with a heavy sigh. She noticed Cecil looking at her with an expression of helpless indecision, as if he couldn’t decide if he should try and comfort her. She waved her hand at him.
“I’ll be okay. It is what it is,” she said slightly irritably. She wanted to hear someone say that things would be alright; that there was an easy explanation and it was all a misunderstanding, but Cecil wasn’t in any position to do that: he was on the same side of the prison bars as her, just another prisoner of Haven. She didn’t need or want comforting lies. Still, she appreciated that he hadn’t run away like everyone else. Only Cecil, Mike, and herself were still here by the front door of “her” house. The rest of the passengers (and Marvin the driver, she thought) had retreated to the bus, a reminder of the existence of the world they knew. The lights that lined Haven’s wide roads had turned on, brightly illuminating it and the pristine asphalt. She could see them clustered around the vehicle, talking amongst themselves, though it was too far to hear them or make out faces.
“You know, uh, do you think I could use the bathroom in there?” Cecil asked.
“What?”
“I really need to go to the john,” Cecil replied, smiling sheepishly. Suzanne stared at him.
“I guess? Go if you want to. Up to you, dude,” she replied. Cecil glanced at Mike, who was standing nearby silently. Suzanne thought she understood the unspoken question. How exactly did her ownership of “her” house work? Would the servant zap anyone who tried to enter without her saying they could? “Mike, Cecil needs to use the toilet, will you let him go in please?”
“Certainly, if you give permission, Suzanne. You can find a lavatory behind the first door on the left as you enter, sir,” the servant replied.
“All yours then,” she said. Cecil went inside. She returned her gaze to the distant bus which hadn’t moved. The warm summer sun was gone but it was still pleasantly warm out. She didn’t need her jacket at least, which was still on the bus, along with her baggage. Did Haven have seasons, maybe even snow? Or was that another thing that could be adjusted according to what she required? She filed away the question until a later time.
There were no lights on in the motley collection of other dwellings she could see. A tall tower was a dark outline against the sky, its windows black; nobody home, she thought. Was there a servant in every one of its apartments, sitting there in the dark right now? Or was there just one for the entire place, she wondered. Cecil returned, seeming slightly relieved.
“Well, that worked out fine. All in working order in there,” he said, then glanced toward the bus. “Do you think they’re going to try and drive off to find the exit again?” he asked. She shrugged, but had to push down a sense of unease; although she doubted they’d get further than the last time they tried, the thought of being left alone here chilled her.
It’s not the most comfy but I guess we can sleep on the bus. Unless…” Cecil said, nodding towards the open doorway. She considered the unspoken question, and made a decision.
“I’m going to get my stuff from the bus,” she said. Cecil nodded. “What about you?” The young man considered. He turned toward the doorway of the next house, which was still closed.
“Do you mind if I move in next door?” he asked.
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