The men threw Charlie inside the gallery and the doors snapped shut, leaving him alone with the monster version of Sister Frances. Helena tried to go faster but failed.
She strained towards the door, but the force holding her back was stronger. Finally, she was able to put her hand on the door handle and pull. But there was some sort of obstruction on the other side of the door. The obstruction blocked the door and forced Helena to push harder, praying as she utilized all her strength.
The door moved and there was a bump as something was pushed away from the door. She looked down, only to see Charlie’s head, neatly separated from his body, vacant eyes staring at nothing.
Helena screamed.
“Helena!”
She jerked and shot to a sitting position, looking around her in confusion.
“It was just a dream,” a soft, gentle voice said to her, and she turned to see Amelia sitting beside her, looking concerned.
Helena closed her eyes, reaching up to run her hand downward, hoping to wipe away the dream.
It had been so real; she could still see her brother’s empty blue eyes, staring at nothing. Her body was shaking.
Amelia embraced her. “There, there. There’s nothing to worry about. We’re fine.”
Yes we’refine. But what about Charlie?
“Ihaveto get to Downfield soon,” she whispered. “I can’t take much more of this. My brother is in danger.”
“I can’t imagine how worried you must be,” Amelia said sympathetically.
“Yes, you can’t imagine. And I’m glad of that. No one should have to be this afraid for their kin.”
“What can I do?”
Helena shook her head as she swallowed, then realized how dry her throat was. “Can you get me some water?”
“Of course.”
Amelia edged off the bed but only as far as the bedside table, on which already stood a jar of water and a glass. She poured the water into the glass and handed it to Helena.
“Thank you,” Helena murmured, taking a sip of her drink. She was still shaking, the last tendrils of the dream still clinging to her. Amelia sat quietly with her until she stopped shaking.
“Do you want to sleep some more?” she asked.
Helena shook her head. “No, I don’t want to risk dreaming again. I think I’ll just get up and…” She squinted at the crack between the curtains. The sun was barely rising. “Well, perhaps I’ll read a book as I wait for the maids to wake up.”
Amelia got out of bed and opened the blinds. A slight drizzle and mist made the world look hazy and ethereal. “It’s definitely too cold to go outside. Did you want to have a bath?”
“Yes. I feel quite… sticky with sweat.” Helena rubbed her arm.
Amelia grabbed the bell and pulled it. “I expect someone’s awake by now.”
Within a few minutes, there was a knock on the door, and a footman was there to take their order of hot water and hot tea to start the day.
“Right away, Your Grace,’” the footman said happily before trotting off to do as he was bid.
“Well, he was right cheerful for so early in the morning.” Helena murmured sardonically.
Amelia chuckled. “Well, I’m guessing he’ll pass on the message and then go off to sleep. What’s to be sad about?”
Helena looked at her in surprise. “Go to sleep?”
“Yes,” Amelia said smugly, “I overheard two footmen talking in the kitchen. Silas has them working in shifts now, so there’s always someone available. The night shift should be wrapping up just about now.”
