Page 125 of Death is Familiar

I nudged the bucket through bars with my foot. “Not exactly a shower.”

“No, but the water’s warm and not exactly the worst either, love.” My eyes shot over to the sink. There was a singular ball valve, which meant there was only one temperature—cold. Warden White carried a bucket down the stairs for me so I could have access to warm water. Which meant he’d taken on the burden because he’d wanted to be kind….

Dipping a finger in to confirm the temperature, the heat snatched the chill from my bones. Turns out he wasn’t lying about that either. A good sign, but I had one more line of questioning. “If this is a ‘shower’, what does ‘outside’ mean, really?”

Warden White pulled up a chair while he caught his breath. “Just that, love.”

“And she’ll come back?”

White’s brows furrowed. “Of course, why wouldn’t she?”

“Twelve weeks is a bit of a milestone, isn’t it?” When he nodded, I continued, “Then you can understand my concern.”

The lack of response told me White hadn’t put two and two together. I’d need to spell it out.

“Given the situation, I was worried she’d be gone… you know, for good?”

The red drained from White’s face, and his breathing steadied. He shook his head. “I love that kid like she’s my own. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, so get that out of your head.”

I fought the smile that tugged at my lips, my system flooding with relief. Warden White was exactly the person I thought he’d be—he was my key, even if I was the Seal’s. “So, you know what happens to us then? Afterwards? After you have what you want?”

Eye darting back and forth, he opened his mouth, then clamped it shut so quickly I heard the clack of his teeth smacking together.

“Hmmm…I didn’t think so.”

Warden White pushed himself to his feet. “The water isn’t going to stay warm if you keep dawdling.”

“Changing the subject, great avoidance technique.”

“I’m not avoiding, love. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” I reached for the sponge through the bars, before brushing it over my arms. “It would be a lot easier if, you know, I could actually reach the water.”

In my peripheral vision, Imaginary Todd took on a more solid form, leaning against the far wall, as White rooted around some cupboards. “Not taking any chances, love. Stand over the drain if you’re worried about the mess.” Grabbing a fresh hospital gown, he crossed the room and handed it to me. “Here.”

Leaving the sponge afloat in the bucket, I took ahold of the gown, pinching it between my fingers to avoid soaking the fabric. The gown wasn’t exactly new, the material as flimsy as the garment I was wearing, but at least it was clean.

While I inspected, White backed away from my cage and began busying himself with some medical equipment—his back to me as a small form of privacy.

Imaginary Todd, however, was still present. And I was at the center of his attention.

“Don’t watch me,” I said as much to White as to Imaginary Todd.

“I’m not looking, and I have no intention of turning around.” From what I could make out over White’s shoulder was that he was taking the pieces of a machine apart and sanitizing them. “But I’m staying here in case you got any funny ideas about the water and that collar of yours.”

Imaginary Todd, however, crossed his arms then ankles, as he continued leaning against the wall. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

If he wasn’t part of my imagination, I’d have thrown the sopping wet sponge in his direction.

“I don’t advise that.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to.”

“Good.” White continued, “Now, I’d recommend getting a move on if you want to finish up before Madame returns.”

Placing the change of clothes aside, I reached for the ties that held my hospital gown up.

I paused. Imaginary Todd raised a thick brow. It really shouldn’t have bothered me that a portion of my imagination was being stubborn. That the fake person only I could see kept their eyes on me.