Page 95 of Reckless Woman
“I happen to like sloths,” I counter dryly, making her smile widen. “They’re the underrated heroes of the animal kingdom.”
“It’s nice to see your sense of humor returning, along with your sense of fashion.”
“Is this one of your dresses?” I say, catching sight of it in the mirror. I’ve lost so much weight I barely recognize myself.
“No, your husband requested a new wardrobe for you, not long after you arrived.” She pauses when she sees my face. “Do not think of a person’s distance as a sign of disaffection,señora.”
“To be honest, I don’t know what to think any more.”
She slips her arm though mine as we descend the ornate marble staircase together. “We take this very slowly,señora. Together.”
Once again, the double meaning in her words feels like a gentle hug.
“Thank you for having me here.”
“It is my pleasure,” she purrs, leading me out through a side door and into the garden. The lawns are lush and green, and slightly overgrown. I much prefer them to the Brazilian-waxed, ultra neat variety outside Greens Therapy Center.
She leads me along a gravel path that coils around the main building. It’s bordered either side by flower beds that are bursting with color.
“Colombia is famous for its flowers,” she says, pausing by one. “We have so much diversity, but our favorites are roses, carnations and orchids...like this one—The Cattleya.” She points out a bright, purple bloom. “This is our national flower. You will find it growing all over this country. Orchids look delicate, but they’re surprisingly resilient, and they adapt to their climates.”
“How do you know so much about them?”
“It is easy to be knowledgeable when you love something as much as I love this garden.”
I glance at the sloping treetops of the Amazon in the distance that shelter this estate. “I don’t trust love,” I say quietly. “It keeps picking me up and dumping me in the wilderness with no map or compass.”
“There are other ways to have children,señora,” she murmurs.
“Not with my husband…He doesn’t want them.”
She stops and turns. “Has he told you why?”
I laugh bitterly. “Talk is cheap to Señor Grayson.”
“Ah.” She considers this, before tugging me back into a gentle stroll. “Men’s hearts are a strange desert of missed opportunity and peculiar decisions. I know of his reputation,señora.I’ve seen what can turn a man as hard and dangerous as him. But all fences were built to fall down eventually.”
By now, we’ve reached the former stables and garages which have been converted into apartments for the women. A couple of them are sitting around a small fountain, smoking and talking. When they see me and Gabriela approaching, they smile and wave.
“New arrivals,” she whispers. “The Santiago Cartel has recently stopped all distributers with links to prostitution benefiting from the organization. Selling drugs makes more money than selling sex. Many women are finally tasting freedom again; I wish Viviana could have witnessed this,” she adds with a sigh. “She was the one who insisted on this.”
At least she did something right before she tried to kill us all.
“How many women do you have here right now?”
“Around fifty, I believe.”
“And children?” I ask, remembering my staring contest with the boy earlier. I slow our pace to a crawl. This is the furthest I’ve walked since my operation and my stomach is starting to ache.
“Not many. Usually, if they fall pregnant, cartel pimps often force them to have unsafe abortions.” She catches sight of my face, and promptly turns us around. “I think this is enough exercise for one day,señora. You have my permission to be a sloth for the rest of the evening.”
“Sounds perfect,” I say, with a weak grin.
I go to give the women another wave when a flash of a face catches my attention in one of the top windows.
I stop dead, searching frantically for another glimpse.
“Is something wrong,señora?” enquires Gabriela.