Or found out.
She eyed the bloodstain, still visible in the near darkness: an inky splotch coloring the thick carpet runner on the stairs and down to the marble floor. Stepping forward, she let her bare feet sink into thestill damp, sticky pool where Mavis Greenlee’s head had landed. She felt the residual blood darken her soles.
Closing her eyes, she took a long breath, concentrated on evening her breathing, clearing her mind, slowing her heartbeat.
Quiet.
So quiet.
And then … she felt a twitch in her cheek. A quivering of her eyelids.
A shudder sizzled through her, crawling up her spine.
In an instant, she felt Mavis Greenlee’s presence, the bit of soul still lingering, as the woman’s final moments rippled through her.
Panic!
Fear!
Pain!
Her knees buckled and she was on the floor, her knees slamming into the coagulated blood.
Who did this to you?Sol silently asked, wincing.
Who is he?
Why did he leave his calling card in the form of a smooth, marked stone?
In her mind, she heard the blast of a gun, felt the world reel, the renewed, sharp agony of Mavis’s head cracking against the floor. Somewhere, a cat was crying, and the assailant flew down the stairs, his face in shadow, the blade in his hand glinting under the incandescence of the chandelier.
A scream erupted.
He struck.
Hard.
Fast.
The knife flashed.
Hatred.
Anger.
The blade dripping in blood.
Trembling, Sol tried to hold on to her own presence as she reached across the void attempting to connect, but Mavis’s soul was rising, that scrap of her that remained, leaving.
No!
Not yet!
Who is he?
Who did this to you?
But that final bit of Mavis twirled ever skyward.
