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“Willow?” Bec croaks when she sees me standing above her bed.
“Hi.” I offer her a soft smile as I take a seat beside her. “How are you feeling?”
Fear streaks through her eyes, and she averts her gaze. “I… don’t know. I’m scared.”
“It’s okay.” I squeeze her hand, even though, truthfully, I don’t know if anything will be okay.
She’s quiet while I take in the room around her, noting all the supplements stacked on her nightstand next to a case of nutritional shakes. My eyes linger on the open vanilla shake at her bedside. I don’t know what prompts me to pick it up, but when I do, it’s still full.
“Not hungry?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I hate those things. They taste so awful. Gran makes me drink them.”
I allow that to digest for a moment before I venture down a path of questioning that we might not be able to come back from. “What do they taste like?”
Bec wrinkles her nose. “There are different flavors, but they aren’t even sweet. They’re all too bitter.”
I straighten my spine, regarding her with concern. “And what about the pills? How are they?”
She glances at the supplements and shrugs. “Those aren’t bad, I guess. But the ones Gran makes me take hurt my stomach.”
Terror wraps its ugly claws around me as I process the full meaning of her words. I didn’t want to be right about this, but there’s no way I can dismiss it. Maybe Azrael can’t see the truth, but I can.
“Bec, I have to tell you something,” I whisper, sneaking a glance at the time on my phone. It’s been fifteen minutes since I called Raven already.
“What is it?” she asks.
“I have to leave,” I choke out. “Because it isn’t safe for me here. And I don’t think it’s safe for you either. I want you to come with me so I can take you to a real hospital. You can see a different doctor and get the treatment you need. Would you be willing to do that?”
A frown tugs at her lips as she considers it. “What about my brothers? Won’t they be mad if we go?”
“I’ll make them understand once you’re safe,” I assure her. “They won’t be mad at you, I promise.”
She bites her lip, anxiety creeping into her features. “How will we get out of the house with Gran here, though?”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
Bec mulls it over, struggling to decide on her own while I wait with bated breath. I don’t want to leave her here. I don’t think I can, and this is the only chance we’ll probably get to leave.
“Okay,” she says finally. “I trust you.”
Relief swells inside me as I nod, helping her pull back the bedcovers. “Okay. We’re going to have to be very quiet. You wait here. I’m just going to grab Fi’s crate.”
I return to my room to gather the hobo bag I already packed, slinging it over my shoulder before I stoop to pick up Fiona’s carrier. It’s all that I’m taking. I don’t care about anything else right now.
When I get back to Bec’s room, I’m glad to see she’s sitting up on her own, but she’s still very weak. It will be a process getting both of us out of the house.
“Just one second,” I tell her, eyeing the shake. “Let me take a couple of these.”
Bec watches me curiously as I secure a latex glove from the nightstand over the open shake and stuff it into my bag, along with an unopened one.
“I don’t need them,” she tells me.
“I know.” I give her a strained smile. “I’ll explain later.”
I help her from the bed, giving her a minute to adjust to being on her feet again. Ten minutes and one very careful walk later, Bec, Fiona, and I make it down the stairs and into the library unseen. Just that amount of exertion nearly drains Bec, and helping her while I carry Fiona’s crate is no easy feat, but we manage somehow.
The house is mostly quiet, and I have no idea where Salomé is, but I’m hoping she’ll stay gone long enough for us to get out. When I open the secret door to the dark wing, Bec stiffens.
“We’re going through there?” she asks.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “It’s safe. I was just in here the other day, and Azrael does this all the time.”
She still looks uncertain, but she puts her trust in me as I lead her down the dark corridor. With only the light from my phone to guide us, it’s difficult to see, but I already know where we’re going. I’ve seen the door from outside the house, and I’m just hoping it’s not barricaded shut.
It takes us an additional five minutes to get there, and when we do, I have to settle Bec on an old rickety chair while I muscle open the ancient locks. With a lot of creaking and groaning, the door finally opens, and I steel myself with another breath. I’m exhausted, and we still have to get down the driveway.
