Page 96 of Infamous

Eddie paused, looking down at the shards of china under her heel, tears streaming down her face.

‘You cannot hurt him in any way that matters,’ Valentine said gently. ‘At least, not like this.’

The door creaked open, and Eddie jumped, expecting to see Nash or Liza; instead, it was Kitty. She took in the scene of destruction before her without so much as a raised eyebrow.

‘Ah. I see.’

‘Did you know?’ Eddie seethed. ‘Either of you?’

‘No,’ said Valentine.

Kitty shook her head. ‘Not until this morning.’

Eddie looked about her at the ruined room, feeling her anger abate and give way to a gut-punch of misery.

‘God. What the hell am I supposed to donow?’

There was silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the sound of Eddie’s breathing.

‘I mean it,’ she said, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed, feeling as if all of her strings had been cut. ‘What do Ido? Valentine? Kitty?’

Kitty considered her.

‘I would fight,’ she said. ‘Art is everything. It’s what truly matters. The people you loved, the politics and arguments, the little things you said and did .?.?. it all fades away. Art is what’s left.’

‘Yes,’ said Eddie, picking up the book again, staring down at the hateful name on the cover. ‘Wait. Actually .?.?. no. Surely you don’t mean .?.?. You cannot place the value of your art above the value of living yourlife?’

Kitty shrugged. ‘Artismy life.’

Eddie took in a breath and then let it out, wetly.

Kitty glanced back out of the door. ‘Look, I was coming to tell you – you ought to go downstairs. Now.’

Eddie was so desperate for somebody to tell her what to do next that she obeyed, going from the room like a sleepwalker.

Downstairs in the entrance hall she met Juno, who was whining at the door; when she opened it, the dog took off at full speed towards the trees. Once again expecting Nash, Eddie stopped short when she saw who was walking up the lawn towards her.

Rose was dressed in a red travelling cloak, her hair tumbling free of its pins. She was flushed and breathing hard, as if she had run all the way up the hill. Just the sight of her made Eddie cry a little harder. In the distance, she saw Albert, in possession of one small trunk.

For one glorious moment, Eddie forgot about everything else.

It didn’t matter. Not when Rose was waiting.

It dawned on her, on that threshold, that in addition to her multitude of mistakes, she had been fatally wrong about one last thing.

Because it mattered more to her to see her name on Rose’s lips at that moment than it would if it were on the spines of a thousand books. It would never beenough, to dedicate every part of herself to the pursuit of that one dream – because she had other dreams, too.

One of them was rushing up the lawn towards her.

Eddie didn’t stop running until she was within touching distance.

‘I had to come,’ Rose said, sounding winded, pushing an ecstatic Juno away. Her cloak was askew, and somehow already covered with dog fur. ‘Eddie, your novel .?.?. Whatever deal he made with you, whatever he has promised you .?.?. I have seen it advertised already, and it is being published under his name alone.’

‘I know,’ said Eddie, her heart pounding wildly. ‘He stole it.’

Rose’s mouth dropped open in horror.

‘Hestoleit?’ She shook her head, her mouth working. ‘Of course he did, thatbastard. Where is he?’