As I seemed to regain consciousness, a billion questions rushed through me, and I blinked at the lifeless body like it could give me an answer.
When did I choose to pull the trigger? Where did this gun come from? What led me to this place at this ex...
Except for the turtleneck, this pic really brings the vibes of this chapter!
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'I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth
But if I do, it's you
Oh, it's you, they add up to'
*DOROTHY'S POV*
Saturday, November 10. My eyes traveled from the calendar Blade had carved on a piece of wood during a late August night to the closed door, my heart plummeting a little lower in the clutter of my guts.
Why did both the calendar and front door have to be on the way between the bathroom and the living room? And why did pregnancy have to make me pee every five minutes?
Who was I kidding? I shook my head, putting a hand over my small belly, as we both knew I didn't need to walk by the calendar to know it had been five days, five hours, and eleven minutes since Blade had left. It had been too long.
Of course, Spencer kept repeating me that it was normal and that it could take time to get this kind of information. Yet we were talking about my evil genie and Pete here; they weren't 'normal', and they should have had the answers by now. Blade should have been back – unless something had happened, and a lot could happen in five days, five hours, and eleven minutes. The what-ifs were ticking faster than the clock's hands in my head.
What if he'd got caught while trying to reach Pete? What if someone had recognized him wherever he could be staying? What if the cops had followed Pete? What if they hadn't found any name in Carrion's gang? What if all of this had already happened? I couldn't even know... And that were only the dreadful suppositions flashing in less than a minute.
It had still been five days, five hours, and eleven minutes, and neither the calendar, nor the door had moved. So knowing it was a staring contest I wouldn't win with my drooping eyelids, I forced my gaze away and went back to the living room. Though the reminders were as glaring there.
I didn't even try to glance in the direction of the clock, as its tick-tock echoing with the quiet lapping of the rain outside was already too loud, and I focused on the opposite corner.
Okay, the crime board filled with pieces of evidence about the Carrion's traffic wasn't the best distraction either, the pins and crossing strings resembling a lot to the sensations in my insides. But my attention was on something else... on the figure seated at the desk in front, who was slowly unraveling all those hidden links, and although it wasn't enough to loosen the tight knots in my stomach, the movements of his hand were filling my chest like the notepad under his pen, smoothly and powerfully, at least, until he stopped abruptly, turning to me.
"What is it?"
"Nothing..." I shook my head, realizing I was still standing by the door frame and joining Spencer by the desk. "You remind me of someone."
