Page 31 of The Temptation of Roan Island

“You shouldn’t be running,” Anna says.

I stop short at the sound of her voice, unprepared for any more surprises. A glance around the room confirms she’s the only one who’s come down to breakfast so far.

“You must be feeling better, then?” She gives me an assessing look.

“Yes.” I press my hand to my heart, willing the beat to steady, warmth still flooding my body at the forbiddenness of what I just witnessed. “Where is everyone else?”

“Not here. Last night and all that.”

“You’re here,” I say, cautiously avoiding asking about Shemaiah. “Did you not enjoy the party?”

“I didn’t stay long. Played bridge with Ruby, her friend Lucy, and Jafeth instead.”

I work hard not to picture Jafeth ramming into Lucy, their panting breaths full of pleasure. The image makes my body feel heavy and light at the same time.

An uncharacteristic worried look crosses Anna’s features. “You look flushed. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I’m not sure what to say, so I hum a note of acknowledgement, and cross to the buffet. “I’ll take a nap after getting something to eat.”

It would be the wise thing to do, though I can’t find the will to return to my rooms after last night’s nightmares.

Anna hums a note, mimicking mine. “Hope you don’t have any nightmares.”

I freeze and look at her. “Why would you say that?”

She avoids my gaze. “I had a horrible dream last night.”

Turning back to the buffet, I stare at the elaborate spread of food, feeling suddenly nauseous. I hope her dreams weren’t as terrifying as mine.

“Is something the matter?” she asks.

“No.” When I glance over my shoulder, she’s standing as if to come and check on me. “No, truly. I’m fine.”

I select something, then sit across from her, unwilling to make more of her comment than I should. Both of us having nightmares is just a circumstantial coincidence. We’re living in a creepy mansion with blood-sucking creatures. Untamed debauchery occurs here every few weeks. We all took part in murdering a maniac who would have killed us. We’re ill and frightened. There are bound to be side effects, like bad dreams.

“How long were you at The Sanatorium?” I ask, looking for a way to connect with her, to chase away the troublesome thoughts.

She takes a sip of her coffee. “A year and a half.”

“What did you do before you were diagnosed with Vastatio?”

Her jaw works, her teeth pressing together, and I wonder if she’ll answer the question.

“I was a nurse,” she says after a while.

“At The Sanatorium?” I can’t keep the surprise out of my voice.

She shakes her head. “No. Not there. There was a hospital annex by the river on the other side of town. I worked with the elderly.”

“Your family sent you to school then?” I ask, recalling my mother. Her greatest dream was to afford schooling for me. She died before that was possible. I cut a bit of fruit, my fork clunking a little too hard against the glass plate.

“I entered a training program,” Anna replies.

“Did you like working with the elderly?”

“I did.” She nods. “Sometimes I was the only one in their lives. So many of the elderly were left completely alone.”

The tragedy of that hits me hard in the chest, nearly robbing my breath. “They were lucky to have you.”