Before the Sun

Chapter Two - Hidden Memories

The lady behind the desk smiles as Kenny and I enter through the automatic doors. She's wearing the same pressed suit as the day we left, her hair in the same neat bun and her glasses sat on the same point of her angular nose. She greets us with a nod of her head, her hand pulling a stack of envelopes from beneath the desk and sliding them across the surface to us. Kenny disregards them, walking through the lobby and to the elevators. I make a point to thank the lady- Andrea as her badge reads. It's the second year I'm living here, and the first time I'm acknowledging her name tag.

The foyer is almost empty, nearing ten in the evening on a Sunday. The only people who breeze through the pristine, marbled area are workers and business men too overrun with work to stop for a moment.

The elevator chimes, the familiar sound of the doors pulling open followed by the holler of my name. I thank Andrea once again, wishing her a nice evening before tugging my suitcase behind me towards an awaiting Kenny, his outstretched arm restraining the doors from falling closed on me.

"I've never talked to her before."

I speak my thoughts, back resting against the wall of the confined space. The doors clamp shut and my finger finds the button labelled 'p' for penthouse. The machine asks for a code, to which I punch in the six digits. My head turns to Kenny, not having received a response. He avoids my gaze, a low hum travelling past his lips. My eyebrow quirks.

"What?"

I question, a small smile tugging at my lips. Kenny only meets my eyes when I nudge his shoulder, jolting him slightly.

"Why were you so quick to scurry away from her?"

I question again, my smirk growing. Kenny frowns at this, shaking his head only slightly. My hand finds the rail as the elevator begins to ascend the floors, picking up speed with every level we pass.

"I wasn't."

"Were too."

I throw back, eyebrows raising. The man tips his head to the side, a serious look crossing his face.

'Don't look at me like that.'

I mutter, fake disgust lacing my words at his so called 'dad look'. The motion of the elevator comes to a stop, a little tune playing as the doors retract and reveal the house behind them. Each perfectly white tile polished so intricately that you can see your reflection peering back at you, the scent of fresh flowers and cleaning products still lingering in the air.

"The cleaners must have just left."

I murmur, stepping from out of the threshold, suitcase in tow. Kenny mumbles something in agreement, his bag dropping to the floor beside me as his hand delves into the back of his waistband, returning with his gun in hold.

"I'll only be a minute."

He states, before wandering out of my sight. It's the same each time we enter somewhere. I've become accustomed to halting in the doorway, waiting until I have the all clear to venture further into the vicinity. It's when Kenny's approaching footsteps meet my ears and his figure comes into view with a nod of approval that I drag my belongings up the stairs and to my bedroom.

Neatly placed cushions devour my bed, rug delicately fluffed and curtains already tugged closed greeting me. My hand finds the lamp at my bedside table, switching the bulb on and illuminating the room before my body is crashing into the mass of throws and pillows. My lungs empty the pent up oxygen in a prolonged sigh, my hands pushing the hair smothering my face out of the way.

Two knocks tap at my open door, one eye opening to glance at the person invading my moment of serenity.

"Luis is in the lobby, want me to tell him you're not feeling great?"