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Eleanor balks at my limp arm. My sleeve is tattered, and deep gashes are along my shoulder blades.
“Joseph, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
She sits beside me, and I breathe in her comforting floral scent. Then it hits me, “Where have you been?”
“I just got home ten minutes ago. The staff and I went out to dinner after our monthly board meeting. I told you about it last night, remember?”
I remember, and a fear settles lead-heavy in my stomach.
“Is this your idea of a joke?” I hiss. “You act like you’ve been out all night and trap me in the attic? Real nice, Eleanor.”
“No, Joseph! I swear, I just got home. Look,” She digs through the pocket of her skirt and hands me a receipt from Dion’s Bistro, “I’m technically supposed to give this to Iphigenia so she can reimburse me.”
A loud ringing sounds in my ears. My vision starts to go fuzzy. It feels like the vaulted edges of the attic start to close in on me. Then, darkness claims me as Eleanor screams my name.
I wake up to monotone beeping and the buzz of fluorescent lights. I’m in a hospital bed. The room is painted a soft blue color. An IV hangs from my left arm. There’s a monitor on my index finger. I realize that’s where the beeping comes from.
“You’re awake,” Eleanor whispers. Her green eyes are overflowing with worry. I go to grab her hand, but pain rakes across my arm. I look down at my right arm; it’s in a navy vinyl sling.
“You dislocated your shoulder, and you passed out from the pain. The doctor said you were also severely dehydrated,” Eleanor explains. She sits on the edge of the hospital bed, cupping my face with her hand.
“You’ll need physical therapy for a bit, but it doesn’t look like you’ll need surgery or anything, so that’s good news.”
“How did you get me down from the attic?” I ask.
“Well, after you passed out, I panicked and called Evan, and he came and helped me get you into the car. He’s grabbing us some snacks from the vending machine.”
Evan enters the room with a soda in hand. He hands a bag of chips to Eleanor.
“You’re awake! What on earth were you doing in that attic? Don’t you know that’s Eleanor’s territory?”
“I thought I heard Eleanor! She was screaming for help!” I say—my pulse spikes at the thought.
“And when was this?”
“I don’t know, probably around 9:30.”
“Ghosts can mimic people, you know,” Evan intones.
“Are you suggesting that Beatrix is expanding her repertoire or some shit? It’s not enough for her to fuck with the wiring, she has to mimic my girlfriend?”
“Well, think about it. If Beatrix wants to get you alone, and you don’t believe in her, it makes sense if she imitates someone you love. She knew Eleanor would be the best way to get to you.”
“Evan, are you even hearing yourself right now? Beatrix isn’t doing impressions! She’s not a stand-up comic.”
“Well then, tell me what you heard in the attic,” Evan prompts.
I heard Eleanor. I know her voice. I know the sound of her footfalls, but how could I hear her if she was out and across town?
“You don’t have a logical explanation because there isn’t one,” Evan supplies before adding, “I’m telling you; you need to be careful.”
Chapter 13
Eleanor
HowcanIbeso deeply in love in such an unsettling place? I wake up with Joseph’s good arm wrapped around my waist.
He has to wear the sling for three weeks. It’s been one week since his encounter in the attic, and Joseph refuses to even look at the attic now. I try to tell him to focus on the good things that are right in front of him.
