“No. Maybe she got a ride out of here already.”
“Not likely in this weather.”
A cold shudder swept through Nora, and the dog let out a low growl as if danger was lurking somewhere inside.
“I’m going in. Something’s not right,” Alistair said, punching in the number and opening the door. As they entered Betty’s cottage, goosebumps ran up her arms and neck, not just from the biting cold inside but from the eerie silence broken only by the faint creaks of the floorboards beneath their feet. It was too quiet, and a growing sense of unease took hold in Betty’s absence. Alistair was right. Something was very wrong.
Chapter Forty-Four
Ragged Breath
The cabin was dimly lit, and the air was so cold it didn’t feel much different from the outside. Alistair’s footsteps echoed against the wooden floorboards as he made his way to the fireplace, its darkened interior a stark contrast to the flickering warmth it usually provided. With a hesitant touch, he tested the icy stones, his breath forming a misty cloud in the frigid air.
Nora felt her anxiety rise as she looked around, and a creeping sense of dread set in. They should have insisted that Betty stay with them last night, or at the very least, they should have come by sooner to check on her. What if she had frozen to death in the middle of the night? The thought turned her stomach as her anxiety tightened around it.
“The stones are cold. She must have gone the entire night without a fire. I don’t understand. When I left yesterday afternoon,she had more than enough wood to last the night,” he explained, looking down at the empty hearth. “I’m gonna get some wood,” Alistair said, standing back up and limping as swiftly as he could out the door.
“Betty? Are you here?” Nora called out, her voice sounding sharp as it echoed off the frozen walls. Her worry doubled as the air hung silent. She walked over to the windows that faced the loch and pulled the curtains open, springing dust free and letting in the early afternoon light. The little dog stayed close by her side, emitting a low growl that intensified the unsettling atmosphere weighing down the air.
She made her way swiftly through the cabin when she heard a sound that stopped her dead in her tracks. It was the haunting noise from her dream: long drawn-out ragged breaths that seemed to cut through the thick cold air. She realized it wasn’t just the ragged breathing that echoed her dream, but the whole cabin seemed to emulate what she had dreamt. She quickly followed the sound, each step seeming to echo louder in the cabin’s stillness. The breathing grew heavier as worry fueled her steps until she found herself standing in the doorway of the bedroom. A small window above the bed illuminated the front of the room, casting the bed and everything below it in shadow. Betty’s figure was buried below the blankets, and she walked over, unsure of what she might find.
“Betty? Are you okay? It’s freezing in here,” Nora said, her heart beating wildly with unease. Betty remained silent and unresponsive. Nora bent down and gently pulled the blanket away from her face, which looked as snow white as her hair.
“Betty?” she said again, trying to wake her.
Betty’s eyes were closed, and if it weren’t for the ragged breathing and tiny puffs of white clouds above her nose, Nora might have thought her dead. She reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder,expecting her to be cold to the touch, but it was the opposite—Betty was burning up. With her age and the time she had spent outside in the cold yesterday, enduring the unheated cabin must have been more than her body could handle, and she had fallen ill.
“Betty, can you hear me?” Nora asked, concern filling each word. The little dog jumped on the bed and curled himself up next to her as if to provide warmth. A deep wave of concern washed over Nora; they needed to call for help. Betty needed a doctor. She quickly left the room and walked over to the corded phone in the hallway to call 999 but there was no dial tone.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, hanging up the phone just as she heard Alistair return.
She walked back into the main living area and found Alistair bent over a pile of frozen logs, attempting futilely to light the kindling. This was another unsettling echo of her dream from last night. Like a shadowy shroud, an eerie sensation settled over Nora as she swallowed hard, watching him.
“Blasted thing,” he said, striking the last match in the box with no luck.
Out of the corner of her eye, Nora noticed a box of cigarettes and another box of matches sitting on the oak kitchen table and walked over to them.
“Alistair, something is wrong with Betty,” she said. He was kneeling in front of the fireplace with his hands on his hips, looking down in defeat. He turned and looked up at her, concern in his eyes. “Oh, God, is she dead?” he asked, standing up quickly.
“No, but I tried waking her up, and nothing. She feels like she has a high fever. I think we need to call someone,” Nora told him, walking over and striking a match. It petered out before it hit the kindling in the fireplace, and she tried again. The logs were too wet to light, and they would be lucky to get a fire going. Nora thoughtabout Betty lying cold and sick in the other room. They couldn’t wait until the logs dried out; they needed a fire now! A wave of anxiety flashed through her, and she stretched out her hand and touched the cold stone of the fireplace, as if by instinct. A warmth burned through her as if her blood had turned to fire itself. She felt it move down into her hand and into the tips of her fingers. She grabbed a match and struck it again, but this time, the kindling instantly caught fire as if a blow torch had hit it, not a single match.
“How did you do that?” Alistair asked, looking down at the fire raging in the hearth with wide eyes.
“I don’t know,” Nora said, surprising herself and looking down at her hands.
“She only has enough wood here to heat this place for the night. We need to call the lettings agency,” he said, turning his gaze back to Nora.
“I already tried to call 999, but the phone here isn’t working. What are we going to do?” Nora asked.
“Shit, I was worried something like that might happen. She was outside for God knows how long yesterday. I should have checked on her again last night,” he trailed off, walking toward the bedroom.
Guilt flooded Nora. Alistair hadn’t come back to check on Betty because of Nora’s panic attack and the impromptu kiss that led to their almost one-night stand. She followed him down the hallway, regret and shame sitting heavy on her mind. As they stepped into the room, the dog let out a protective growl aimed at Alistair but calmed down as soon as Nora entered the room behind him.
“Betty? Betty, can you hear me?” Alistair asked with genuine concern as he sat next to her and felt her forehead. She began to stir, her white hair moving on the edge of the blanket. She opened her eyes slowly and looked around, confused.
“Adam, is that you?” she asked.
“No, it’s Alistair and Nora from the cottage next door. How are you feeling?”
