Page 190 of Because I Killed Him
Then a warm, steady hand folds over mine. I recognize the shape, the weight, and the gentle pressure of its thumb as it brushes the inside of my wrist.
“It’s all right, Loredana,” Edmund says, his voice slightly hoarse. “I’ve got you.”
My muscles relax. My breathing evens. The pain doesn’t disappear, butit recedes, pushed back by his presence. I hold on to his hand until the sedative pulls me under again.
DAY SEVEN:
There’s no pain when I wake, only a strange weightlessness, as if my body is drifting above the bed. I lift my head slowly, careful not to disturb the nodes at my temples. Both legs are there. The right is fully healed beneath a film of gel, while the left is bound from hip to ankle in medic-grade weave. When I focus and will my left foot to move, it obeys.
The sedative feels lighter today, clearing some of the haze. I’m alert enough to see the glow of my Bond interface hovering in my vision, showing several messages and missed calls from my parents. They’re worried but not panicked, which means they don’t know about the piranha attack. Harrison didn’t tell.
I reply simply:“I’m all right. Just busy. Exams are coming up.”
As I close the inbox, my vision starts to blur again. It lasts long enough to catch a blinking alert in the corner of my Bond screen, five days old.
Death duel challenge between Miss Loredana Waldsten and Miss Irene Hussey:pending. Activation deferred until trial proceedings conclude.
I sink back into the pillow, meaning only to rest for a moment, but sleep takes me. I don’t wake up again.
The Pinkies stop administering the sedative, so when I wake the next morning, I’m fully alert. Still, I keep my eyes closed.
Dickie’s voice drifts from beside my bed. It’s quiet, stripped of jokes, and that alone tells me something’s off. He’s carrying on a whole conversation with me, exchanging words as if I’m responding.
“…anyway, yeah, you saved me. Big time. Real full-brass stuff.” The mattress dips by my elbow as he leans closer. “And since you’re begging me like that, fine. I’ll say it. We’re friends. Not like I’ve got any more than Ed, Jack, and Lady Charlotte, but still.” He sniffles, then clears his throat. “You didn’t let me go under, Loredana, and… well, I think my folks would’ve liked you.”
Dickie’s hand finds mine. It’s warm and clammy, as if he washed it but forgot the towel. He kisses my fingers lightly, then lets go.
“All right. I gottascram now. Pinkies say I’m fully upright, so I’m getting the boot. Forceful discharge, or whatever. Exams are tomorrow, you know. Hope you wake up before then.”
The urge to open my eyes grows stronger, but I hold back. I know that if I do, Dickie will either backpedal or crack a joke, pretending none of it happened. And I want to keep the moment exactly as it is.
So I wait, motionless, as his footsteps fade down the hallway. The buzz of something mechanical follows him out, a sound familiar enough to make my eyes snap open.
Dickie’s airplane.
He got it back? But how?
My fingers scrunch the bedsheets as my thoughts jump to Dad’s daffodil brooch. It’s probably lost at the bottom of the Luminescent Lake. Dickie’s plane floats, while mine would’ve sunk straight down. Gone. Maybe forever.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the thought away, when the door swings open and Charlotte enters, carrying a full load: digital photographs, fresh clothes, the Florence Engine, and small knick-knacks from my suite.
When she sees me, her grip tightens on the bundle, as if in shock. Then, slowly, her expression softens, and a trembling smile climbs through it like sunlight.
“Lore…” she breathes. “You’re awake.”
“J-Just for a few m-minutes,” I rasp. My throat is raw, my mouth too numb from meds to form clear words.
She sets everything down on the sofa near the door and moves toward me slowly and cautiously, as if afraid she might hurt me by getting too close. Her hands hover for a moment before she leans in and finally touches me. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, barely making contact at first. I can feel her restraint, the way her whole body wants to crush me in relief but won’t.
“I m-missed you, Char,” I whisper, laying my head against her.
She pulls back to look at me, her eyes fluttering with tears. “I missed you too. Every fucking minute. We didn’t know if you could hear us, but we came. All of us. At least for as long as the Pinkies allowed. Visitors only get eight hours a day, so we started doing shifts.”
“I-Is Edmund coming today?”
“He was already here, as long as he could be.” Charlotte swipes at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve and nods toward the clock, which reads 2:00 p.m.
I sink into the pillow, wishing I’d woken earlier.
