Page 41 of Never Tear Us Apart
‘But you could be,’ he observes.
‘Unlikely.’ I’m guarded.
He nods and changes the subject. ‘Well, it seems like there will be no raid tonight,’ Nicco says, reminding me for thefirst time that the raid Sal mentioned earlier never came. ‘One can’t help but wonder if it’s not the calm before the storm. One hears rumours, doesn’t one?’
‘I don’t,’ I tell him. ‘I’m so sorry – it was rude to leave the table early after you’ve been so kind. I think perhaps the wine went to my head. I had no idea that Danny would . . . well, do what he did.’
‘Please.’ Nicco offers me his arm to escort me back to Sal. ‘No need to apologise for the Canadian. I find North Americans always think they own whatever part of the world they are in.’
‘And yet here he is, risking his life for us,’ I say.
‘Of course,’ he concedes.
When we reach the entrance courtyard, the door to the street stands open, and there is a sleek-looking black car outside.
Nicco inclines his head. ‘The professor is waiting for you in the car.’
‘Thank you again,’ I say. ‘I know petrol is short . . .’
‘I have my ways,’ Nicco replies. He takes my hand and kisses it. ‘I think we all do, don’t we, Maia?’
‘I suppose we do,’ I say, knowing that he is referring to seeing us in the catacombs.
‘I hope you won’t mind if I seek out your company again,’ Nicco says finally. ‘I feel that we have much to talk about.’
‘Of course,’ I say politely, intrigued but instinctively wary.
‘I will see you again,’ he says.
There’s something about the way he says it that feels like a threat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Monday 23rdJune 2025, 10 a.m.
Sitting up with a jolt, I gasp in air like it’s my first breath.
‘Maia.’ Kathryn grabs hold of my wrist. ‘Thank God, at last. I’ve been sitting by the bed for an hour waiting for you to wake up.’
The air vibrates around me. I see her face dissipate and reform, catching glimpses of lidless eyes and the bone in her jaw.
Nothing is real.
That’s the single thought I have in my head: nothing is actually real.
‘I don’t think I’m staying long,’ I say urgently, grabbing onto her hands in the hope they will anchor me. ‘Kathryn, I need you to listen to me, please. This is really important. I need you to look for me.’
‘What do you mean? You’re right here,’ Kathryn asks anxiously. Tears stand in her eyes. ‘I’ll take you to the hospital as soon as you feel able to travel.’
‘No, no. This isn’t real – nothing is real. Soon I’ll be taken again. I can see it all dissolving. You’re floating away.’
When Kathryn shakes her head in dismay, she leaves a trail of herself caught in gravity’s web. My mind is a fragile thing, flowing in a liquid state. Thinking seems impossible.
Frantically, I scrabble for information. ‘Have I been here? Has my body been here?’
‘Of course – where else would you have been?’ Her voice fragments, splintering into almost indecipherable shards. I don’t have long now.
‘Your hair.’ Her frown is disjointed and broken. Her expression becomes incredulous. ‘When on earth did you cut you hair?’
