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“Jesus.” He just looks at me like he can’t believe it and I turn away from his accusatory gaze. “She’ll hate you, you know that, don’t you?”
My chest tightens. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, my voice robotic. It wasn’t supposed to matter. Not in the beginning.
“Because you’ll have what you need to move to the next step of your plan.”
“Taking the Bishop inheritance.”
He snorts, shakes his head like he can’t believe this.
I walk to the desk, grip the edges of it. “He killed her.”
“Do you see what you’re doing?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. “Do you see that you’re destroying a life? And not just one.”
I draw in a tight breath.
He stands up. “So what’s your plan, big brother? You’ve taken the girl. Married her. Put your child inside her. What now? What happens after she gives birth?”
I grit my teeth, turn, and walk to the window.
“Take the child and bury Isabelle beside Nellie Bishop?” he asks.
That was the plan. Originally. When Isabelle Bishop was just a name.
“Find some flimsy explanation for Angelique who has grown to love Isabelle by the way.”
Love.
“Let me ask you one more question because if there’s one thing I don’t want it’s a repeat of the past.”
Recycle an ugly past. Carlton Bishop’s words.
I turn to my brother. “What do you mean?”
“I mean when Carlton Bishop finds out, given what he’s tried to do, what he’s succeeded in doing, how can you think he won’t try to hurt her again? Or worse?”
45
Isabelle
I’m getting sick in Jericho’s bathroom the next afternoon when there’s a knock on the door. Someone rattles the handle and I thank goodness for the lock.
“Isabelle?” It’s Leontine.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, reaching up to flush the toilet and sitting back against the tub, the tiles cool beneath my bare thighs.
“Are you all right?” she asks. “Open the door. I brought you up some toast and ginger ale.”
“I’m not hungry.” How can she think I want to eat?
I push the hair off my forehead. It’s sticking. Do most people break a sweat when they throw up? It’s been so long since I’ve had a bug I can’t remember.
I drag myself to my feet and run the tap to wash my face with icy water then stand back to look at my reflection. I look terrible. Exhausted and gaunt. I haven’t been able to eat much the last few days. Maybe week. It shows and not in a good way.
“Isabelle. I’m calling a doctor.”
“I’m fine,” I say, hurrying to dry my hands and unlock the door. I open it to find Leontine looking more worried than I’ve ever seen her. She stands back when she sees me, looks me over. I’m wearing one of Jericho’s T-shirts but am naked otherwise. Thankfully the shirt comes to about mid-thigh. It was the closest thing to me when I woke up and felt the vomit coming so I grabbed it and put it on. It still smells like him.
“You’re not well.”
