Globetrotter Ingrid gets a fabulous fresh start when her job takes her to Melbourne, Australia. Here she meets wise and sweet Oliver, who makes her forget she doesn't have a heart.
This successful stability prompts Ingrid to accept an invitation to...
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September 2018
Singing in the shower was not something Ingrid did as a rule. Though as she sat in the lukewarm water mindlessly scrubbing at her arms, she found herself humming and mouthing lyrics along the familiar tune playing on her device. Nothing else preoccupied her beyond splashing about to the beat of the music.
Not until the lights went out.
She froze at once, too terrified to look up from her legs. Even the music stopped. Ingrid gulped. She pulled up her knees, hugging them. Suddenly the smallest noises sounded most ominous.
Had her grandfather's ghost come to haunt her?
Ingrid squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in her knees. Her heart thumped loudly, like a bouncing ball. Her brain chose to remember Remus bouncing a football in the school yard just then. Only to intersperse that pleasant memory with gruesome flashbacks of her grandfather's dull dead eyes.
"Ingrid?"
She yelped. The knock on the door gave her a heart-stopping fright.
"The power went out," Filip's voice continued to explain. "Are you okay in there? I brought a torch."
Ingrid cleared her throat. "I, um... Thank you, come in."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I didn't lock the door."
"Okay. I'm coming in."
The door handle screeched as he pressed too slowly on it and carefully pushed the door open. Filip kept the torch aimed at the floor, then placed it on top of the washing machine, beside Ingrid's phone. The light beamed at the ceiling, casting a dim, white glow in its proximity. Many corners of the bathroom remained submerged in the blackest of shadows, however.
Too many for Ingrid's comfort.
"I was just about done, anyway," she said. "Will you, um... Will you help me back to the bedroom? I'm feeling a bit dizzy."
"Of course. Should I get your towel?"
"Yes, please."
Filip didn't hesitate. He grabbed her towel and aided her out of the tub as if she was an invalid. He even made an effort to not stare at her naked bits. This was Dr Filip Ionescu, Ingrid thought, not the horny high-school boy she'd once known.
"Shit – "
Her foot slipped as soon as it touched the floor, and her eyes scrunched up in anticipation of a painful fall that never came. Ingrid sighed, secure in Filip's arms. Her jellied legs trembled from the fear and the cold.
"I..." She gulped. "I don't think I can walk."
"Don't worry," Filip replied, in a tone that rang genuinely determined and reassuring. "I've got you." He walked her over to the toilet and sat her down on the closed lid. "Will you be okay for a minute while I go grab a bathrobe?"
