Chapter 64 Lord Edward
I limp from one side of my room to the other, inhaling deeply. All I smell is my own animal sweat.
Is Dr. Rush awake by now? Amelia said he killed her mother, and something in the way he held her, the way he said her name, even, at times, the way he spoke to me, hiding his accent and dressing like he was playing a part, makes it easy to believe.
Perhaps he’ll tell Anne that I assaulted him. Perhaps I’ll be arrested or sent to some other facility like this one. Anne will scramble to secure another cover-up.
I dig through my sock drawer, reach into the pockets of my coat, my jeans, my pajamas, desperate to find a forgotten pill, an overlooked crumb.
Nothing.
Fuck.
I wish I’d searched Dr. Rush’s pockets before we left his cottage, rooted around until I found my medication.
How could Amelia leave me here alone, without even saying goodbye? I chose her over freedom.
I have no right to be angry. With all that happened, of course she wasn’t thinking about me. Selfish, just like Anne always said I was. Putting my needs before the family—moving to the wrong country, loving the wrong girl.
It’s not selfish to want a life of your own, Harper once told me. She said, Anne and your father are the greedy ones, asking you to put their needs first, to build your life around them.
I direct some of my anger toward Dr. Mackenzie, for the way she said Lord Edward, for the way she was able to crouch beside Amelia when I couldn’t.
I send some to Dr. Rush, not only because of what he did to Amelia, but also because he locked me in my cottage, because he was pleased with the progress I was making, because, even now, he has the power to send me home to Anne with full marks or a failing grade.
My phone is ringing. I look at the screen, my hands slick with sweat, expecting to see Anne’s name, ready to be scolded for embroiling myself in yet another problem for her to solve.
It’s not Anne, but that bloody unknown number again.
I’ve had enough of this.
“Hello?” I answer roughly. I decide that this time, I will answer every question the journalist on the other end asks. They deserve some reward for their persistence.
A familiar voice, one I thought I’d never hear again, says my name softly.