Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
I never intended to pause by the wall where Nix had died, but an inner niggling made me stop, look up the stairs. Something didn’t make sense to me. If Phoenix had tripped and begun to fall, why hadn’t he been able to stop himself by grabbing on to one of the railings, or just slow himself down by slamming his foot against the wall?
He’d been fit, strong, with fast reflexes—and he’d have known that a wrenched shoulder or fractured foot was a far better outcome than what awaited him if he tumbled all the way down.
I couldn’t help but think about that documentary on staircase deaths.
Vansi was the one who’d made me watch it. I’d groaned, but found myself reluctantly fascinated. Especially during the part where the reporter had showcased the results of experiments on the damage caused to a body by an accidental fall as opposed to one where a person was pushed.
It had stunned me to see that the outcome could be near identical.
A push didn’t leave much of a bruise if any. Even if there was a small mark, how would anyone notice in the plethora of bruises and cuts that resulted from a fall from such a height?
My nose threatened to drip.
Realizing I was half-frozen, I used a tissue from my pocket to mop up the cold-induced drip before returning to the living room. Phoenix was dead, and I wasn’t a pathologist. They’d do a full examination, find what there was to find. The only one to blame—if we wanted to go that way—was the person who’d unrolled the rug.
And we’d never know their identity unless they confessed.
“How is he?” I asked Aaron, who was now sitting by Kaea just holding his hand.
“Ash and I managed to rouse him enough to get two crushed paracetamol and soup down him.” Aaron chewed on his lower lip. “He was groggy, not responsive to questions, but he did swallow the medicine and food, so that’s a good sign.”
What wasn’t a good sign was that Kaea had shown no indications of needing to use the bathroom. I knew that from helping Vansi study for her exams, hoped desperately that the lack was just because he was sweating out all the liquid, nothing more.
Leaving Aaron to his silent vigil, I went to Vansi. Her breathing hadn’t altered, her pulse slow and steady.
Darcie walked over to me.
“How much did you give her?” I was careful to keep my voice easy, nonconfrontational.
“Just one tablet,” she whispered. “It’s not that strong, honest. I’ve woken up before when there’s a storm and a branch bangs against the window.”
Frowning, I went to put my hand on Vansi’s shoulder, shake, but she stirred before I could touch her, letting out a huge yawn and mumbling.
I dropped my hand to my side as Darcie exhaled. “Oh, thank God,” she muttered. “I was starting to freak out that she had an allergy to the medication or something like that. She wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind when she took it.”
“Let’s leave her to it. Better she emerge into consciousness at her own speed.”
Darcie nodded before making her way back to her armchair. Ash was missing from his, probably in the kitchen.
He walked through the connecting door some ten minutes later.
Unable to make myself return to Clara’s writings, I’d been editing photos on the laptop while waiting for Vansi to wake; I had a hunch that she’d already broken out of sleep, but wasn’t yet ready to face the world.
Who could blame her?
When she did finally open her eyes, her gaze was dull but rational. “Where did you put Nix?” she asked me when I went to kneel beside the sofa on which she yet lay.
“A cellar under the kitchen.” I knew my friend, understood she was ready for the cold truth. “Let me get you a mug of tea.”
Shaking her head, she sat up. “I need to see him.”
I didn’t tell her that she shouldn’t remember Phoenix like that. I knew exactly why she wanted to see him. Because she wouldn’t believe it until she did. Just like some part of me didn’t believe that Beatrice was dead.
“It’s freezing outside this room.” I’d have pointed to the snow beyond the windows, but it was too dark now to see the flurries of white. “I brought your outdoor jacket from where it was hanging in the laundry. Put it on. And here, take this beanie, too.”
While she did that, her motions slow and gaze blank in the way of a woman who didn’t want conversation, I went into the kitchen and poured her a mug of tea from the pot Ash had made earlier. It was tepid by now, but that just meant she could guzzle it down.
I added a huge teaspoon of honey before I took it to Vansi. “I know you said you didn’t want it, but it’ll wash out the fuzziness from your mouth.” While I had no experience with sleeping pills, I was sensitive to a particular hay fever medication—one of those people who shouldn’t drive or operate heavy machinery while on it.