Chapter 10

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Mother Georgie strolled into his chambers unannounced, her heels clicking on the stone as she let herself in. She came right to his bed—where he lay on his sheets, dressed and deep in thought—and sat beside him. Silence followed, but it was a comfortable kind between old friends.

'You have an idea,' she said at last.

'I do. I'm just glad you noticed.' His voice was thick with sleep. He hadn't slept well the night before, and the following day had been one fresh from Hell.

'You think you know who did this?'

'I have an idea.' He glanced at her, only now seeing the sadness which she had done so well to hide earlier.

'Did you follow this "idea"?'

'I did. I spent the rest of my day searching for the records.'

'Did it pay off?'

Barcley let his sly grin shine through. Despite the situation, he had been pleased with both himself and the results. 'Why not look for yourself; the documents are on my desk.'

Georgie moved herself to the desk, the chair groaning beneath her weight. From the comfort of his bed, Barcley could hear the exclamations slipping from her mouth as she read. Those exclamations slowly turned to exasperations, which, as she finished reading the final document, turned to a steady stream of profanities.

'This can't be right,' she said.

Barcley shrugged. 'I don't know what to tell you Georgie.'

'But ... but ... but why? What sparked you to think of this?'

Groaning, Barcley sat up and slid his feet over the side of the bed. The rug was soft on his feet. 'Do you remember my father's symptoms?' he asked simply.

'Most.' Georgie scrunched up her face as she thought. 'The doctors said they were mostly uncomfortable things; itchy skin, a temperature, lots of sweat—those kinds of things.'

'The sweat was caused by the rising temperature; but yes, you're right—those are some of the symptoms. However, only one interested me: memory loss. I don't know how far back his memory has been damaged, but the fact remains that his memories have been damaged, or at the very least altered'

'I don't see the connection.'

'Nor would I expect you to yet. But what if I told you I believe I was exposed to the same poison as my father?' Georgia turned to him, the fear in her eyes as clear as could be.

Barcley simply smiled.

/ END /

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