Priory // h.s.

chapter twenty-four

A tense voice wakes me. It's Harry, talking to someone else who's standing in the doorway of the apartment.. Sometime during my nap, my head slid from his shoulder to his lap, which is where I am now. One of his arms rests lightly on my arm. The other hand is gripping the armrest of the sofa tightly. His posture is rigid, and tension radiates off of him in hot waves. 

I lift my neck to see who the visitor is. Instantly, a lightning bolt of pain lances from my head through my body. My throat feels raw and scratchy, and every muscle screams in exhausted protest as I move. I feel even worse than I did yesterday; I'm guessing everything is catching up with me at once. The nap did nothing to help.

When I see the person standing outside Harry's apartment, I nearly fall off the couch.

"Maura?" I yelp, and then cringe at the soreness of my own voice.

"Amber Faye." I've never seen a more severe look on her face. "What the hell do you think you're doing in the Mens' Dorms?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing in the Mens' Dorms?" Harry snaps.

"Harry," I whisper as a warning, but he ignores me. I don't know if I should feel shocked and grateful that he's defending me or angry because he's going to get himself in huge trouble.

Clearing her throat, Maura steps into the apartment. "Mr. Reeves wants you two to come to his office. For, ah, questioning."

Shit. Panic accelerates my heartbeat. He saw us yesterday night. He knows it was us who were listening outside the door. Hell, maybe he even knows it was us who snooped around in his office before, when we hid in the closet. Shit, shit, shit.

Harry's obviously thinking the same thing, because I can see fear pool in his eyes even as he fixes Maura with a defiant stare.

"Well, don't stand around gawking like a pair of idiots! If Mr. Reeves wants you in his office, you come to his office. Get up!"

I gulp and let Harry help me to my feet. If I was feeling sick a few minutes ago, it's suddenly a thousand times worse now. Terror is making my head spin, and I can hardly walk in a straight line as Harry and I follow Maura out of the apartment and down the hallway. 

"Harry," I whisper again, and this time he looks at me in a concerned fashion. "I'm... I feel... Why is everything spinning so fast?" I let out a soft groan and press my fingers to my temples, trying to steady my mind.

Impatiently, Maura hisses, "Stop this nonsense and get into the elevator, Faye. If you think I'm going to fall for the whole I'm-going-to-pass-out act, you must think I'm a lot stupider than I really am. Now hurry up, damn it. Mr. Reeves doesn't like being kept waiting."

"With all due respect," Harry says in a most disrespectful tone, "I think you need to stop yelling and be a little more considerate. Amber's not faking it."

 "Oh, give me a break--"

Everything--sound, sights, shapes--is fading from my brain. I grasp in vain at reality, but find that it's quickly being replaced by a shadowy darkness. I feel like I'm burning up and freezing to death all at once.

Then it all goes black.

 —

I'd gotten the phone call when I was at home, watching TV and relaxing. Needless to say, I had stopped both activities at once.

It was a rainy day; droplets of water beat down on me as I raced into the hospital. My soggy hair dripped all over the clean white tiles, and the nurses cast me disapproving glances, but I hardly noticed.