An older man I do not recognize

The door opens wide, revealing the person who had entered the room and in turn, revealing myself to him. It’s not Jeffrey, but someone who resembles him, but older. He backs away, an expression of probably disappointment on his face, gesturing to me to come out of the closet. I have my shirt covering my bare chest.

“Who are you, miss?” he asks.

“Charlene,” I simply answer.

“Jeffrey was surely acting suspicious. I sent him on an errand and came in here to check. Guess my hunches were correct,” the man says. “None of this is your fault, so I will happily let you change and get yourself home.”

“There lies the problem,” I mention.

“And why is that?” he asks, his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t really have any clothes,” I say.

“Aren’t these your clothes?” he asks, gesturing to the scattered garments on the floor of Jeffrey’s room.

I shake my head and slowly remove the shirt from my chest. I use one of my arms to cover my small breasts and hand him the shirt I had pressed to my torso. He takes the shirt and stretches it out, using my body as comparison. Clearly the shirt is large on my petite frame, becoming more like a dress.

He hands the shirt back to me so I can continue covering my chest. “No way my son was able to bring a naked girl into this house, in this neighborhood,” he says. “Unless…” My gaze averts from his face to somewhere down on the ground and then up to my phone in his hand. “Say, he didn’t offer you a small pink pill, did he?”

I don’t say anything, but I purse my lips, making no effort to hide the truth that he has uncovered. He’s disappointed, but to whom, I’m not sure. We stand there for an extended period of time, both of us unsure what to do next. My moves here are limited. I can’t simply leave the room in the current state that I’m in and knowing I’m in his house, I don’t think this man would like a stranger walking around in it, much less half-naked.