Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
As I cross the foyer, I feel the chill of the house rush into my open coat and seep through my thin nightgown. My mind is in a haze, too frantic to think clearly, but as I reach the front door, something clicks. Something is not right. I stop in my tracks, glance down and realize with a sinking feeling that I’m still in my house slippers—no proper shoes to shield me from the wintry wind blowing outside.
For a moment, I hesitate. My fingers clutch my purse and I consider going back to grab my boots. But the thought of going all the way up those stairs again in my condition. No. Anyway, the taxi has arrived outside, and every second feels like a wasted eternity.
As I open the front door, Nora’s voice stops me. “Mrs. Jackson!” she calls out.
I grip the doorknob tightly and turn to face her. “Mrs. Jackson, where are you going? You’re not dressed for this weather!” Her voice is laced with concern, her eyes wide as she approaches.
“I’m fine, Nora. I’m just going to see my dad. He’s not well,” I say with as much bravado as I can muster, but my voice sounds hollow, unconvincing, even to my own ears.
“Mrs. Jackson, wait—”
But I don’t give her a chance to finish. Pushing the door open, I step into the biting cold. The wind hits me like a slap, harsh and unrelenting. My slip and open coat do nothing to shield me, and I shiver violently as I rush down the steps. I hear Nora calling after me, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
The driver steps out gallantly to open the door for me. “Are you all right?” he asks, frowning at my state.
“I’m fine. Please just drive as quickly as you can to the hospital,” I plead, climbing into the backseat.
The warmth of the car is a relief, but the cold has already seeped into my bones, and I can’t stop trembling. I clutch my purse tightly in my lap, my fingers stiff and numb. The driver pulls away and I let out a shaky breath and try to steady myself.
I don’t want to arrive in such a state that my mother starts worrying about me.
The streets are eerily quiet, the wind howling as it whips through the town. Snow flurries dance in the air. I watch them through the window with a strange detachment.
A harsh cough escapes my lips, and I press a hand to my chest, wincing at the sharp pain that follows. The cold has settled deep, each breath feeling heavier than the last. I ignore it, willing my body to cooperate. There’s no room for weakness now.
The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror, his brows furrowed. “You sure, you’re okay, Miss?”
“Yes, just a little cough. Don’t worry it’s not catching,” I reply with a small smile.
But I’m not fine. The truth is, I feel worse with every passing second. The chill in my chest spreads, a suffocating feeling that makes it harder to breathe. I try to focus on the countryside flashing by, anything to distract myself from my growing physical discomfort.
I think of my poor father, his face, lined with age and worry. His hands, calloused from years of hard work. The thought of him lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, makes my chest tighten further.
The idea of losing my father is unbearable.
Tears blur my vision again, and this time, I don’t bother to wipe them away. Let them fall. Let the cold take me if it must. All that matters is getting to him. All that matters is being there.
CHAPTER 38
EARL
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uxk7aSCLj4g
-don’t leave me this way-
I try to focus on construction plans that all seem meaningless and cannot hold my attention. The numbers blur, replaced by flashes of Raven’s white face filled with hate as she lay in her bed. She hates me now. I killed any feeling she might have had for me. The thought causes an agonizing hurt in my chest. Why? Why did I do it?
I pick up my pen again. I’ve called the doctor and he made some noises about not doing house calls on Sundays, but I gave him such a tongue bruising he promised to come in about an hour. Until then I will force myself to do some work.
The knock on the door startles me. “Come in,” I call, standing up. Maybe it’s Raven. Maybe she’s come to, after all.
Nora steps in hesitantly, her hands wringing together. The moment I see her face, I know something is wrong. “Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Jackson has left the house.”
My pen clatters onto the desk. “What do you mean, left?” My voice is low, dangerous.
“She rushed out,” Nora stammers. “Barely dressed, Mr. Jackson. In her slippers. Not even proper shoes. I—I tried to stop her, but she said she needed to see her father. She said he’s not well. She wouldn’t listen.”