And then Jack is running out the door. Moving so fast he stumbles, almost falls, but rights himself and keeps on, laughing. Holly gasps. He’s racing to her—he’s flying—and he’s doing it all on his own.
Chapter Nine
Ma’am? Dr. Darling?”
Holly blinks, realizes her forehead is still resting against the tree, and judging by the crick in her neck, she’s been there for some time. She straightens. It’s Maria.
“Are you all right?” Maria asks. “May I get you tea?”
“I’m fine,” Holly says. “There’s no need. I was . . . thinking.” Remembering. How Jack’s crisscross of scars faded from his body. How she’d finally realized what caused this miracle. The beginning of it all—the research, the experiments, even Darling Skin Care.
She looks at her watch. It’s well past dinnertime. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Please ask the other nurses to think of anything that happened that day that seemed out of the ordinary, all right? And search the house and grounds one last time. Check every corner, behind every tree and shrub. I don’t care how small.”
Maria nods. “We will do that.”
Holly knows it’s futile. There’s no sign of Eden anywhere in the house, no clue to her disappearance. Eventually she’s going to have to call the police. She shudders. No one will believe that she’s done everything she can to keep Eden safe. And Jack. That her life revolves around them both, a wobbling ellipse, always tilting back and forth, never quite in balance. But it’s the best that she could do, for both of them.
* * *
Back at the hotel, she unlocks the door to the suite. A soccer match is blaring on the television, but Jack is asleep. An empty plate rests on the table between the beds. Holly picks it up, and as she does, her foot strikes something. She leans down and discovers an empty pint glass under the bed. She sniffs it. Beer. Relatively fresh too, although she suspects her son will try to pass it off as belonging to the room’s previous tenant.
“Jack?” She shakes him, but he groans and curls up tighter. She sighs. She doesn’t have the energy to have this out with him right now. She puts the plate and glass into the hallway, locks the door, and falls into bed and a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
She awakens to a knock on the door. Weak morning light is streaming through the windows—she never drew the curtains last night. “One moment,” she calls. She pulls a jumper over her nightshirt, then struggles to the door. When she looks out the peephole, no one is there, but there’s a breakfast hamper and a tea tray on the ground.
She opens the door and brings the food inside, placing it on the table in the suite’s dining area. Then she goes to check on Jack. He’s still sleeping.
Not for long. She shakes him awake.
“What?” he mutters, digging his head deeper into the pillow.
“Hey. Wake up. We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Jack!” Reluctantly he turns over to face her.
“Where did you get the beer?”
“What beer?”
“Come off it, Jack. I found it when I came back last night.” It’s clear from the expression on his face that he’d hoped she might not notice.
“So I had one beer, what’s the big deal? It’s England, I told you—everyone drinks over here.”
“Given that I actually grew up here, I beg to differ,” she says. “But the point is that I told you not to, and you deliberately disobeyed.”
“You didn’t tell me not to—you told me you wouldn’t buy me a drink at the pub yesterday,” he says innocently.
“Fine. Let me make it clear. No drinking while you are here. Period. Or at any other time, since you are underage. Do you understand?”
He nods sullenly.
“Good.” What she doesn’t say is she has no idea how alcohol or drugs might affect the injections and how long they last. Given how little they have left, she doesn’t want to chance it. But she can’t tell Jack that. He’ll freak out and ask questions she won’t be able to answer. Or, rather, doesn’t want to. “And to make sure, I’ll be having a word with the inn too.”
He glowers. “Is that all?”
“No. There’s breakfast on the table. Get up and get dressed. Study while I’m gone.”
She leaves to take a shower before he can mouth off to her. When she comes out, dressed in jeans, trainers, and a jumper, he’s at the table, wolfing down the baked goods. She takes a scone, kisses him on the head, and tells him she’ll check in with him at lunchtime. She’s happy to see he has a chem book out.