Page 52 of Enveloped By the Darkness

Scanning the wholegrain bread, my insides twisted. The sandwich looked appetizing enough, but despite my shower, I didn’t feel clean enough to eat. I wondered if I’d ever feel clean again.

“Okay.”

Collecting half of the sandwich, I forced the corner into my mouth before I bit down and chewed. Trying not to overthink the process, I went through the motions until I was able to swallow it. I lifted the bread back to mouth before the question burst into my head.

“Master?”

“Hmmm?” he asked, watching me in front of his empty plate. Kade’s appetite it seemed, was unaffected by last night’s trauma, but predictably, I was taking longer to process what had happened.

He’d already moved lunch from the kitchen diner to the formal dining room we rarely used, but still, the image of Lucas’ corpse taunted me.

“How do I stop thinking about her?”

“Time.” His answer was immediate. “There are no fast solutions, I’m afraid, but time will heal.”

Glancing past him to the huge grandfather clock in the center of the room, I wondered how much time it would take.

“I feel like I’m living someone else’s life.” Brow furrowing, my voice trembled, revealing how close I was to producing more tears. I’d no idea anyone could cry so much.

“Mylife, you mean?” His eyebrow arched in the way I usually found so tantalizing.

“No, that wasn’t what I meant, Master.” Was it? “I just can’t believe this is real, that it’s really happened, that I killed someone.”

Killed someone, killed someone.

The admission echoed around my head as if it was determined to taunt me.

“You saved me.” His hand reached for my wrist. “She was going to kill me, little girl.”

“I know, but—”

“So, you were my guardian angel.” Lips curling, his thumb stroked across my skin. “You protected me when I couldn’t protect myself.”

“You make it sound heroic, Master.” I turned away, repulsed by myself. “I’m no hero.”

“You’remyhero,” he countered, persuading my gaze to return to his handsome face. “I’ll be forever thankful.”

“I just feel so…” Hesitating, I tried to think of the right word.

“What?” he prompted.

“Dirty.” There, I’d said it. “And not in a good way, Master. It feels like the sort of stain I can never clean away.”

“Very Lady Macbeth.” He chuckled, the sound riling me.

“I mean it, Master. We can justify what I did however we like. The fact remains, someone is dead, and that’s not changing.”

“No.” He squeezed my hand. “That’s right. It’s not. She’s dead.”

Silence thickened the air around us as his statement lingered.

“She’s dead, and she’s not coming back, but we’re still alive, little girl. You and I have a whole life to live together.”

“Do you think it’s this place?” Peering around the wood-paneled room, I shivered.

“What do you mean?”

“Barrington?” I pulled in a breath. “You once said it was haunted, that you saw the ghosts of your past in the corners of the rooms. Do you think the place pollutes somehow, gets under your skin until we all become carbon copies of your father?”

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