The hinges creaked. He whipped around to see Violet in the doorway. What a strange life they were leading, the three of them, but at least it had been quiet until now.
Maggie coughed and blinked her eyes open as if the cough had pulled her back from the brink. He didn’t know how much time remained, but not much.
“You had things you wanted to say,” he prompted.
Her eyes were green. They weren’t always. Sometimes blue, sometimes gray. The whites were sickly, but her irises glinted as she looked at him.
“You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Maggie said.
The floorboards creaked as Violet took a step into the room. “He’s not alone.”
Maggie looked at her, nodding slowly, eyes glistening. “You’re as good as a daughter to me, Vi, but leave us now. This part isn’t for you.”
Violet looked stung. She loved Maggie nearly as much as Malcolm did. He’d often thought she loved Maggiemorethan he did. At times, it was easier to love someone else’s mother than it was to love your own.
“Shout if you need me,” Violet said quietly, before she withdrew and closed the door behind her.
“I wish you hadn’t sent her out,” Malcolm said. “You know what you mean to her.”
“Don’t chide me, boy. Not today. This is just for you, because everything depends on you now.” She gripped his hand. “What time is it?”
“Half past three in the morning.”
“A few hours yet.”
Malcolm started to ask what she meant, but she shushed him.
“Just listen.”
He wanted to go to the curtain and look across the street. The man in the raven mask would still be there, he was sure. “I’m listening.”
The gleam in her eyes dimmed a little, and so did the strength of her grip. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to stay awake. Or conscious. Or alive.
“Death is coming for me, and long overdue,” she said. “I’ve held it off as long as I can.”
“Held it off?”
Maggie clucked her tongue to shush him. “I’m a lot older than I look, Mal, and I know how I look, so that’s saying something.”
She’d alluded to such things before. They went along with the mystery within which she loved to immerse herself.
“I nearly gave in while you and Violet were cleaning up afterdinner, but I fought it off.” Withered and gray, she barely had the breath to speak. “It would’ve made things much harder for you, and I want to give you as much time as I can.”
Malcolm lowered his head, trying to keep himself in her field of vision. “Time for what?”
Her chest had gone still. He inhaled sharply, but then she squeezed his hand again, still alive.
“Sunrise is just after seven,” she said, so quietly he could barely make out the words. “I can hold on till then. You have a few hours to prepare.”
He’d have asked her to elaborate, but she didn’t need prompting now.
“It’s a long journey, Malcolm. But when you’re sure I’m dead, you’ve got to move me right away. You’ve gotta take me home. Bury me in Shediak.”
“InMaine?”
She’d been born in Shediak. It was more than a thousand miles away.
“In Maine,” she echoed. “Once my heart stops, you’ll have two nights. I’ve got to be in Shediak by the second sunrise or it’ll all be for nothing.”
