Chapter 87

Malachi

Sloane had not spoken to me in two days.

Not a word. Not when I brought her food. Not when I helped her sit up so she could eat it. Not tonight, when I unwound the bandage from her leg, cleaned the wound, and wrapped it again while she stared at the ceiling as though I were a draft coming through a crack in the wall.

The swelling had gone down. The bone was setting straight, which was more than I had expected when I first saw the angle of it under that slab. She would walk again. Badly at first. Then better.

I told her so.

She turned her face toward the wall.

I finished the bandage, tied it off, and left the room. I locked the door behind me. The sound of the key turning was the only thing either of us said.

Now