Page 110 of Freed
His mouth curves, small and merciless. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still Dave.”
That almost earns me a real smile. But then the shadow comes back over his face, and I know whatever happened downstairs is still sitting heavily in his mind. He straightens, and the loss of his nearness is immediate. I hate that I notice.
He starts for the door.
“Wait.”
He stops but doesn’t turn.
“Am I safe here?”
That makes him look back.
And whatever answer I expect, it isn’t the one he gives.
“With me?” he says softly. “Never.”
I’m kept on bed rest for two weeks.
Each time I so much as make it to the door, a new woman is there to tell me to get back in bed. New guards. New faces. At least these ones don’t look at me like they’re deciding whether to drag me back by force. They’re polite, but also unmoved by my pleas which is somehow worse.
On the fourteenth day, there’s a knock at the door.
Before I can answer, the doctor steps inside alone, carrying her bag and wearing the same cool, practical expression she had the day she saved my baby.
“Good afternoon, Miss Miller,” she says. “How are you feeling today?”
“Like I’m going out of my mind with boredom.”
One corner of her mouth twitches. “Any more bleeding?”
“No.”
She sets her bag on the chair near the window, then turns back to me. “Any cramping?”
“Some. Less than before.”
“Good.” She crosses to the bed and takes my wrist, checking my pulse with efficient fingers. “The test results came back.”
A strange chill moves through me.
“It was poison, then.”
She gives a small nod. “A pesticide. One that is manufactured and used only in the United States.”
For a second, I just stare at her. So someone did try to poison me.
“Given that you’ve been in Italy for nearly three months, Mr. Conti and I both agree you did not do this to yourself.”
A dry laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. “How generous. I’m thrilled that now everyone believes me.”
Her expression doesn’t change. “I have seen many things in my career, my dear. I’ve learned not to be surprised by anything.” She pats my foot through the blanket. “The goodnews is that both you and the baby appear stable. You’re safe to travel.”
The word hits me wrong.
“Travel?”
