As she extends her foot, about to descend, she feels a sharp, strong shove from behind. She stumbles, missteps. The stairs come crashing at her, like a wave that entraps her in its current, pounding her over and over. There’s hurt and black and waves and surprise and and
and
Vivian
February
The Knox
Yes, I saw what happened to Vivian.
And no, I will not reveal who did it.
I never do.
Taylor
She must have imagined the scream, Taylor thinks to herself, as she paces outside Turned Pages. Her head feels clogged, a dull ache pulsating through it. It was such a weird day at the Knox. She’s tired, overwhelmed with what she learned—how the Knox was onto her being a nurse, how they use opium for geomancy readings, how there is likely some sort of big change underfoot. Why, it’s enough to make anyone hear things.
Or maybe someone did scream—and so what? It doesn’t mean it came from inside the Knox.
Taylor rubs her face; she wants to head home, take a hot shower, sink into bed. But first, she needs to stop into this bookstore like she told Jerry she would.
But right as she reaches for the door, her phone pings. It’s Aunt Gigi—again. Taylor sighs and instead pulls out her phone. She scrolls through the chain of messages:
Morning T.J., I’m back from Orlando. What time can you meet up later today?
I can even come to you?
Hellooo??
Remember, I’m only in town today…
Okay, it’s now noon…I don’t think my texts are going through. Is your phone dead?
T.J., I’m starting to get worried. It’s now 2:00. Are you okay??
It’s 2:30 now. Where are you!
Turned Pages will have to wait a few more minutes. Taylor reluctantly rings her aunt, who picks up immediately.
“I know you’re an adult, T.J, but if you don’t get back to people in a timely manner, they start to worry.”
“Hi, Aunt Gigi…sorry, I was working and didn’t have cell service.” She glances almost absent-mindedly into Turned Page’s window front, at the display of vintage books.
Her aunt inhales sharply. “Working at the Knox, I presume?”
“Yeah.”
“We need to talk. I wanted to have this conversationin person, but I have to go meet Phil at his retina appointment, so this’ll have to do.”
“Sorry,” Taylor says lamely, as she braces herself for the coming onslaught: the reprimands for quitting nursing. Her aunt’s heavy disappointment with her life choices. At least it’s over the phone.
“Have you talked to your father recently?” Aunt Gigi asks.
“No…Have you?”
“I have not,” she says to Taylor’s relief. “But what I’m about to tell you does very much concern him. It’s something that he himself should have told you a long time ago.”
