Page 14 of Is Anyone Listening?
The kitchen door swung open again, and Sophie emerged, carrying a tray of fresh orange juice, and this time she moved with painstaking care, setting the new pitcher carefully on the table. Then she came back to us. "Can I bring you some juice?"
"I think we're fine," I said. "We're coffee addicts."
"Me, too," she said, appearing to relax as Ellen returned to the kitchen.
"Do you work here full-time?" Tessa asked.
"I split my time between here and Kelly's Pub. I'm saving up to get out of here." She glanced nervously toward the kitchen. "Don't tell Ellen I said that."
"Your secret is safe with us," I said. "Where are you planning to go?"
"New York City."
"That's where we live," Tessa said. "It's great there. You'll love it."
Sophie's face lit up. "Really? You're from New York. Maybe we could talk?—"
"Sophie!" Ellen's voice rang from the kitchen doorway. "A word, please."
The light died in Sophie's eyes. "Coming." She hurried away, leaving Tessa and me exchanging another glance.
"We've got an in," Tessa said. "Maybe if we share info on the city with Sophie, she'll share info on the inn with us."
"That's a good idea," I said as I finished my food. Checking my watch, I added, "I was thinking of taking the yoga class at ten. It's almost that time now. What do you want to do?"
"Definitely not yoga. You know how inflexible I am."
"That's how you get flexible," I said with a smile, knowing that Tessa was not a fan of exercise.
Tessa took a sip of her coffee, then said, "I think I'll linger here, see if I can catch up with Sophie after breakfast ends."
"Okay. Just be careful."
"I don't think Sophie is dangerous. I'd be more likely to get hurt attempting to do yoga."
I gave her a faint smile. "I'll catch up with you after class. And, Tessa, I don’t think we should assume anyone in this place is not dangerous."
Chapter Four
A lush garden path led from the side door of the inn to the yoga deck, which extended to the edge of the cliff. The platform was larger than I'd expected, maybe twenty feet by thirty feet, with a railing that looked sturdy but not particularly high. Beyond the railing was nothing but air and ocean—a sheer drop to the rocks and water below.
Five other women were already there, arranging their mats in a semicircle facing the ocean. I grabbed one of the rolled mats and found a spot next to the woman who was staying in the room next to me. I gave her a friendly smile. "Hi, I'm Cassidy."
She gave me a startled look as if she hadn't been expecting anyone to speak to her. "I'm Anna," she muttered.
"I think you're in the room next to mine. I saw you in the hallway last night."
Before Anna could answer, a woman stepped up to the front of the group, wearing a loose-fitting sweater over dark-green leggings and a crop top. She had kind green eyes and a warm smile.
"Hello, I'm Becca Thorne," she said. "Welcome to Sunday morning flow. For those who are new, this practice is about connecting with your breath, your body, and this beautiful natural setting. Let's start in a comfortable seated position."
I followed her lead and sank into the opening stretch. But as I did so, my gaze drifted to Anna. As she stretched forward, her T-shirt crept up, revealing purple bruises on her side that looked large and painful, making me wonder just how she'd gotten them. But I couldn't just come out and ask her, especially not now in the middle of class, so I refocused on the yoga moves, hoping I could talk to her more after class.
But we had barely settled into our final relaxation pose, when I saw Anna roll up her mat and walk quickly away. Clearly, she had no interest in speaking with me. It was apparent that someone had hurt her. I hoped whoever had put those bruises on her body wasn't still close to her. But I couldn't help but think about the crash I'd heard the night before, the broken window that had to be in her room, the hushed command to be quiet, and the sad sobs. Who had been with Anna last night? And had they been there to help her or to hurt her?
When Becca finally released us from the pose, I rolled up my mat and put it on the pile. Another woman was speaking to Becca, so I walked over to the rail to wait until they were done,
The view was spectacular—the ocean stretching endlessly before me, the white caps gleaming in the sunshine, seagulls flying overhead. When I looked down at the beach where I had stood earlier, my head spun. The drop was at least sixty feet, straight down to jagged rocks and now churning water. The tide was coming in, and the sand was almost entirely covered, just as Tyler had told me.
