She shook her head.“I think I’d like to lie down.I don’t feel well.”
A prickle of worry slithered down my spine.“Of course, Nana.Whatever you want.”
In the few minutes it had taken me to walk our guests out, Nana had changed into her nightgown and settled into bed.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the glow of the bedside lamp, but I could tell she was just pretending to be asleep.I pressed a kiss to her cheek before pulling the blanket higher over her shoulder.She seemed so small tonight.So fragile.
“We’re calling the assisted living facility tomorrow,” she whispered, eyes still shut tight.“It’s time, Maya.”
A lump formed in my throat.“We don’t need to do that, Nana.I can take care of you here.”
She opened her eyes.“No, Maya.I refuse to be a burden.Taking care of an old, forgetful woman is no kind of life for you.You’re young.You need to be falling in love or, at the very least, sowing some wild oats.”
I sniffled, fighting back both laughter and tears.“You’re not a burden.I love spending time with you.I love this life.”
“I know, Maya.And I love spending time with you.”Her voice was gentle but firm as she patted my hand.“But I can’t be relying on you to take care of me anymore.And that’s final.”She tipped her head toward the lamp.“Turn off the lights on your way out.”
I huffed, shaking my head.“Fine.But we’re not done with this conversation.We’ll talk more over breakfast.”
Yawning, she said, “Okay, okay.But we’re also going to finally talk about my will.But let me get some rest first.I’m so tired.”
“Okay, fine.You win.Goodnight.”
She mumbled something that sounded like goodnight, already half asleep.
After letting myself into my apartment, I went straight to the kitchen to open a fresh can of cat food.When Harold didn’t come running for his favourite soft food, I stopped and listened.A faint meowing drifted in through the closed windows of my apartment, and my irritation bubbled to the surface.
Seriously?
“Damn it, Harold.You better not be dabbling in constructing skyscrapers out of rodents again.”
I hurried downstairs to the stockroom, bracing myself to find another mouse mountain when I got to the door.I pushed it open, exhaling in relief when no mice presented themselves.Harold shot past me, racing upstairs like his ass was on fire, yowling the house down the entire way.
“You know,” I called after him, “if you wouldusethe ridiculously expensive cat doors I had installed, you wouldn’t have to wait for me.”
I turned to follow him up the stairs, my feet dragging with exhaustion.The weight of the day pressed down on me, heavy and relentless.I wanted to go home, curl up with a book, and forget Liam Bishop ever existed.
Before I could do that, though, my spare phone rang.Again.I might as well answer this time,I thought.It’s not like this day can get any worse.
With a heavy heart and a resigned sigh, I pushed through the stockroom doors into the shadowy bookshop.The phone sat in the drawer where I left it, and even muffled, the sound it made was grating in the quiet of the empty store.I grabbed it and pressed the button before I could talk myself out of it.
“Hello?”
A voice crackled through the receiver.
“Maya?Wait until you hear what we’ve been up to.”
thirty-six
the fear of death
Maya
Asuddencrushingpressurein my chest snatched me from a fitful sleep, and I struggled to catch my breath.Holy shit, I’m having a heart attack!I’m going to die alone in my bed.
Alan Rickman’s voice drifted through my headphones, still playing from when I’d turned on my playlist after the irritating call with my parents.It helped calm me, but not by much.Not even Alan Rickman could take away the fear when death was imminent.His voice was undeniably heavenly, but it couldn’t work miracles.
Tamping down panic at the way my chest wasn’t rising the way it should have been, I dragged in a slow breath.I was about to try for another when a slice of pain near my throat forced my eyes open.
