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Two.

I tasted nothing.

Then I rose.

Picked up her plate and her tea and carried it back into the kitchen.

I made another cup of tea.

Placed it on a tray next to her fruit and carried it to her door.

It was quiet inside.

I bent, placed it down then rose.

I didn’t knock.

Didn’t call her name.

Even though it was stuck in my throat.

My hand brushed the doorframe.

One second.

Then I walked away.

I cleaned up the rest of the meal.

Washed the dishes.

Packed everything away.

I stopped once in my study. Long enough to grab the file on my desk, and the one I hid in my drawer.

Then headed to my room.

My fingers worked the clasp of my watch as I headed along the hallway. My thoughts permanently fixed on her. I opened the door to my bedroom. Stepped inside. Headed toward the bed.

The curtain moved.

Just an inch.

But I noticed.

Every muscle in my body locked.

Silence.

No wind.

No footsteps.

Nothing.

Wrong.

My pulse slowed. Not faster. Slower. The way it always did before blood.