Page 9 of Realm of the Wicked

I must be very lucky to have met the only miracle worker in the city. Wasn’t that what I had told the strange man in the park that day? When he asked what I would give to cure my sister, and I answered him with one word. Anything.

Surely, it was just a coincidence, nothing more.

But Grace had been incurable.

Stranger things had happened.

Besides, he said himself he wasn’t a miracle worker.

Then what was he?

Dr Murphy stood, a full smile on her lips now, even as a strange kind of unease filled the room. ‘I’m glad I was able to give you better news this time. Grace, I hope you use this second chance to live a long, happy, healthy life.’

She left, and once more, Grace and I sat in the room alone.

My sister turned to me, disbelief written all over her face. ‘Did that really just happen? Or am I still dreaming? I feel like I have to be dreaming.’

I rested my hand on her cheek, giving her the biggest smile I had in my arsenal, despite the doubt churning in my chest. What had he done? ‘You’re not dreaming. You’re not sick any more.’ The words couldn’t be real. Yet here they were. ‘What do you want to do first?’

Grace’s eyes were wide as saucers. ‘I guess… I guess I want to go home. And maybe get tacos. Celebratory ones, this time.’

My smile grew impossibly bigger. ‘Tacos are always a good choice.’

We left the hospital, as much as one could leave their trauma.

* * *

The entire night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me.

I washed the dishes and looked over my shoulder the whole time. I showered while peeking around the curtain. I climbed into bed only after looking under it.

Despite everything in my life, I wasn’t an anxious person. So what the Hell was wrong with me?

Just down the hall, Grace was probably sleeping soundly, the best sleep she’d had in ages. And I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince my brain to turn off, and that someone was not watching me from the shadows curled around the corner of my room.

The stress laced through my chest, weaving its way through my heart, even as I tried to talk myself down.

My eyelids just started to close, fluttering shut despite my pounding heart, when I heard a rustling coming from one of the corners. Archie had been soundly sleeping in the living room when I’d gone to bed. I’d already checked on him three times.

No. There was no rustling. No one was in my room. That was complete and utter insanity.

There it was again. The sound of fabric sliding against each other, demanding my attention. I bolted upright, sleep completely forgotten.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness – was that…?

No. There was no way.

But my eyes didn’t deceive me.

The faint beam of moonlight coming in between my curtains illuminated him without mistake.

The strange man from the trail was standing in my room, dressed entirely in black. I pulled my covers tight around my chest, trying to slow my breath so I could reach for the cell phone I knew was within reach. My heart pounded, blood rushing to my ears like a tidal wave. The room shrank, growing impossibly smaller.

‘Hello, again,’ he said, as if we were meeting in a coffee shop, and not in my bedroom. Which he had broken into. ‘I hear your sweet sister is healed. I guess that just leaves the matter of your payment now.’

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STELLA