The Gilded Silence
The darkness of the suite was not total. Thin slivers of the tropical sun bled through the cracks of the metal shutters and painted long golden needles across the floor. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched the dust motes dance in the light. The room felt like a tomb. The scent of the broken perfume bottles was still heavy and cloying and it made my head throb. Every time I moved the silk of my gown rustled like a warning.
I heard the heavy lock beep and the door opened. A maid entered with a silver tray of food. She kept her eyes fixed on the rug and placed the tray on the table. She did not speak. She did not even look at the shattered crystal on the floor. When she finished she turned and left with the same robotic silence. The click of the lock followed her dep
