“No! No! Stop! Don’t do this!”
“Goodbye, Nila Weaver.”
The axe swung up. The sun kissed its blade.
It came slicing down.
A bell woke me.
A tiny tinkle in the heavy swaddling of darkness. My heartbeat clashed with cymbals, and my hands swept up my throat. “No...” The diamonds still imprisoned me. My neck was still intact.
“Oh, thank God.”
I’m still alive.
Only a dream...
Or was it a premonition?
I coughed, chasing that question away.
My fever had brought many hallucinations over the past day or two: images of Jethro walking into my room. Laughter from Kestrel as he taught me how to jump on Moth. Impossible things. Desperately wanted things.
And also dread and dismay. The torturing didn’t stop when Cut had had his fun...my mind continued to crucify me when I was alone.
The bell came again.
I know that sound...but from where.
I was tired and sore. I didn’t want to move ever again but deep inside, I managed to find the strength to uncurl from my nest of bedding and reach under my pillow.
Could it be?
My fingers latched around my phone, my heart trading cymbals for drums. The rhythm clanged uncertainly, drenched in malady and doing its best to keep me alive. My nose was stuffy, eyes watery, body achy.
I was sick.
Along with my hope, my body had given in, catching dreaded germs and shackling me to yet another weakness.
I’d come down with the flu four days ago. A day after Bonnie told me what would happen. Twenty-four hours after I’d seen what’d happened to Elisa in those feared photographs. But none of that mattered if the bell signalled what I so fiercely needed.
For days, I’d hoped to hear from him. But every day, I was disappointed. I drained my battery so many times, trancing myself with the soft blue glow, willing a message to appear.
I squinted in the dark, malnourished and fading from what I’d endured. Luckily, the fever had crested this morning. I’d managed a warm shower, and changed the bedding. I was weak and wobbly but still clinging to Jethro’s promise.
I’m waiting for you. I’m still here.
The screen lit up. My heart sprouted new life, and I smiled for the first time in an eternity.
Unknown Number:Answer me. Tell me you’re okay. I’m okay. We’re both okay. I need to hear from you. I need to know you’re still mine.
I dropped the phone.
And burst into tears.
For so long, the world outside Hawksridge had been dark. No messages from my father. No emails from my assistants. I’d been dead already—not worthy of vibrations or chimes of correspondence.
But Iwasn’tdead.
