I squared my shoulders and relayed her question. “When will you be able to remove the bandages from her eyes?”
His lips pursed. He’d probably report this to anyone who’d listen. Surely Lilith and Timothy were champing at the bit for me to fail. The way I saw it, Sara had a simple question. It wasn’t as if she demanded equality; she simply wanted to know when she might regain sight.
“Brother,” Dr. Newton began, effectively removing her from the discussion. “As we’ve discussed, the concussion likely affected her optic nerve. Unfortunately that wasn’t the only injury to her eyes. When your truck exploded, the intense light and heat damaged her retinas. Both injuries require rest and time. I don’t foresee the bandages being removed anytime in the near future. It could easily be weeks.”
“Thank you, Doctor. If there’s nothing else, I believe my wife needs rest.”
I supported The Light and Father Gabriel, but as I pulled the blankets over Sara’s closed gown, I vowed to do what I could to make this easier on her. She was a person who’d lost the right to choose her future. It was now my responsibility, and I intended to do anything necessary for our survival. The stakes were too high.
“One last thing,” Dr. Newton said. “I was informed that Sara’s schedule will be set as of tomorrow.”
“Her schedule?”
“Yes. She needs to be awake, dressed, and have breakfast eaten by the time you leave for Assembly.”
My body tensed as I consciously loosened my grip on Sara’s hand. Modulating my voice, I asked, “Who informed you of this?”
“Sister Lilith.”
This time Sara’s grasp shuddered. She was a quick study.
“Because . . . ,” I coaxed.
“I don’t remember,” Dr. Newton replied flippantly, his lips sliding into a sleazy grin. Shrugging, he added, “It was something about training.”
Training?
I released Sara’s hand and stepped toward the door, hoping that Newton would get the hint that I wanted him out. I wanted them all out. “Thank you, I’ll be sure she’s ready in the morning. As long as you believe she’s healthy enough.” Being the only physician, Dr. Newton could provide her with a valid reason to avoid Lilith’s training, at least for a few more days.
“From what I could tell—with my limited examination—yes, your wife is healthy enough to begin training.”
Asshole!
I shook my head. Clearly this was Newton’s plan. If I wouldn’t allow him full access to Sara, he’d throw her to the wolves.
Hell no. I’d fight it.
I opened the door and watched it shut behind the doctor, wishing it had a lock.
In four steps I crossed the room. This small space felt like a damn cage, but I refused to leave Sara’s side. The soles of my boots created a rhythm as I paced back and forth, a habit I’d started as a teen. I processed thoughts better when I moved. I’d rather be moving in one direction, but living in this godforsaken region of Alaska, in a walled community, didn’t offer many opportunities for running. It was better in the summer, but now, with the sunlight waning, it was freezing cold. I had to hand it to Father Gabriel, though. There was nothing like being isolated in the middle of nowhere to bring people together and help form a cohesive group.
The rush for Sara’s training didn’t make sense. Are they trying for another failure?
From the corner of my eye, I noticed the movement of her hand and my steps stilled.
Shit. She’d just wiped away a tear.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
CHAPTER 6
Stella
Standing outside the door to the Wayne County Morgue, I gave Dylan a strained smile.
“Really?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Really. I haven’t been in. If they knew for sure it was her, they wouldn’t need you. After last time I thought it might help if you weren’t alone.”
I feigned a smile. I appreciated his help; however, having him here, holding my hand, set fire to my emotions, causing them to bubble to the top instead of remaining hidden behind a mask of indifference.
“Thank you, Dylan. But I need to walk in there as a journalist, not a friend. I’m not sure I can take seeing my friend laid out on a large stainless table.”
He tilted his head. “But Stella Montgomery, sleuth investigator, can?”
“No, not really, but sleuth investigator”—I couldn’t help but smile, releasing a bit of the tension at his description—“can keep it together until she’s alone.”
“How about you don’t have to be alone?” Holding my hand and stepping back, Dylan looked deep into my eyes, and his gaze narrowed. I knew that look. His police wheels were spinning. “You know,” he said curiously, “I raced down here as soon as Barney told me you’d left. WCJB is closer than the precinct. How did I get here before you?”
I shrugged. “My mind’s a blur. I missed my exit and . . .” I let my voice fade to a whisper. “I found myself headed north.”