I turned and headed upstairs. As soon as I got there, a message from Avery popped up on my phone:
[Just pack a few things—don’t bring too much, or it’ll attract attention. Be careful! If the reporters catch wind of this, you can forget about ever having a chance with me again!]
I opened the closet, ready to tell Avery she was overthinking things. Inside the six-meter-long wardrobe, there were only a few scattered pieces of my clothes hanging in the corner. After organizing them, Avery simply locked the bedroom door from the outside, knocking as a brief acknowledgment before leaving.
“Dennis, just stay in there until evening. The villa’s already been exposed, so to avoid being photographed at home, just bear with it,” she said, then left.
From downstairs, I could occasionally hear Avery and Bryan laughing and joking around. As it approached noon, Avery began to busy herself in the kitchen.
Before long, I heard Bryan’s voice. “Avery, there’s still someone upstairs. The food you’re making for the three of us might not be enough.”
Avery’s reply came back in her usual calm tone, “It’s fine. He’ll just have to deal with it for now.”