Chapter 5 - The Glass Shards
Clara didn't deliberate. Acting purely on survival instinct honed by years on the streets, she pretended to stumble over the trailing bedsheet, crashing violently into Dr. Alan's side.
""Watch it, you clumsy whore!"" the doctor barked, dropping the syringe onto the parquet floor. The glass barrel shattered instantly, spilling amber liquid across the hardwood.
Richard grabbed Clara by the hair, hauling her backward with brutal force. ""Do that again, and I’ll have my men throw you off the cliff before dawn!""
""I’m sorry! I tripped, I was dizzy from hunger!"" Clara cried out, letting real tears spill to sell the pathetic facade. She dropped to her knees, scrubbing at the floorboards with a towel, absorbing every drop of the poison so none could be gathered back.
Dr. Alan adjusted his glasses, breathing heavily in annoyance. ""No matter. The dosage already in his system will complete the work by morning. Come, Richard. Let the girl sit vigil with a corpse.""
Richard sneered, tossed a fifty-dollar bill onto the floor near her face like dog food, and slammed the heavy oak door. The lock turned with a definitive thud.
Clara stayed on the floor until their footsteps faded down the gallery. Only then did she crawl back to Edward’s bedside.
His eyes were fully open now. The heavy stupor was gone, replaced by a razor-sharp, lethal intelligence. Slowly, painfully, Edward lifted his right forearm from the mattress.
He reached up, his trembling fingers closing gently around Clara’s wrist, pulling her toward him.
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Clara leaned down until her ear was an inch from his mouth.
""Under... the floorboard... beneath the Persian rug,"" Edward croaked in a voice shredded from disuse. ""A burner phone... call Sean. Now.""
