“Cordelia,” Francis’ voice was so close. “We brought medicine for your fever.”
The dream that floated through my mind a mere moment ago shattered as I forced my eyes to open.
“Here.” Francis’ hand slipped under my shoulders, lifting me into a seated position.
“This should lower your temperature.” Florence brought a spoonful of dark brown liquid to my mouth.
The medicine held a surprisingly pleasant taste: sweet, but bitter all the same.
“You should rest,” Francis whispered before my eyes closed once again.
The cold wrapped around my arm as my dream fractured into small pieces. My eyes flew open, only to find Roxanne sitting on my bed, tending to my healing injury.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered. “I have to change your band for a fresh one,” Roxanne explained, setting the paste on my skin. The numbness was no longer there, yet the pain was bearable.
“How long has it been?” I croaked, looking at the covered window. The sun shone bright through the small opening of the curtains, gilding the floors in shimmer, reminding me of Sandra’s golden locks.
“Two nights.” Roxanne shrugged, focused on her delicate work.
I filled my lungs, noting the aching burn was no longer there—with it the fatigue faded as well. “How long will it take to fully heal?”
Roxanne’s lips turned into a thin line. Her voice turned quiet, “I don’t know. I never went this far.” Roxanne met my gaze. “Thepain should cease rather soon, but the mark...” She shook her head.
I nodded as the realization of what had happened slowly settled. Panic rushed through my veins, my heart beat faster.I could have lost an arm. I could have died—
“You are fine now,” Roxanne said, as though reading my thoughts, as she wrapped my arm in clean fabric. “You are going to heal.” She tightened the ends around my elbow, her expression turning serious. “But if you manage to kill yourself, I swear, I will find you in the next life and murder you myself, do you hear me?”
I chuckled at her expression. “What do you care if I live or die?” I shook my head as the images of her threat floated through my mind.
“Oh, I don’t.” She shrugged, collecting the old wrap in her hands. “But Francis and Florence will be devastated, and I don’t take any insult to them lightly.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Surely you would be upset a little too...”
“A little.” She nodded, fighting her smile. “It would be rather inconvenient.”
“Thank you.” I sighed. “For everything.”
A mere nod was the reply to my sincerity before Roxanne said, “You cannot keep burning yourself, Cordelia.” She stood from the bed. “William Barren replied to our letter, they are waiting for us on the full Moon, and you must be strong for that meeting.” With that, she left the room, leaving me all alone with my thoughts.
I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, counting every black widow I saw, though it did nothing to settle my heart that fought for freedom.
The memories of my family deep in the grave invaded my thoughts, and I longed for the fevered mind I had before I’dwoken. I longed for the pain in my arm that distracted me from agony far worse than this. Yet there was none.
No distraction, no salvation.
The empty hole in my stomach filled with desperation. Yet the tears would not come.
I swallowed the growing lumps, forcing myself out of bed. My skin ached at the movement, and I welcomed the discomfort—anything to get rid of the tragedy that was about to occur.
My legs carried me out of the room, towards the pain, towards the agony I had yet to allow.
There was only one place I wanted to be, only one place that would finish up the deed and shatter my soul into small pieces once and for all.
