Silence In The Lamplight
I couldn't believe it. I looked upon her and saw the truth in her being. It spoke with a cold voice, commanding and condemning. Its silence screamed at me with fury.
Not a single word uttered. Not a breath whispered between pale lips. Nor the flutter of eyelids, twitching back and forth spasmodically, saying Do Not Disturb The Sleeping, raging in mysterious dreams and panicked sweat. Nothing moved. Nothing stirred.
Megan Paige was quite dead.
Her blood ran across my hands and I drew them back reflexively. I looked at them in the sickly yellow lamplight, the shards of glass embedded in them still drawing my own free-flowing blood. I pulled them out, one at a time, until they were all gone. There were probably a dozen of them, opening a dozen wounds in my palms.
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