Read Fledgling: Book 1 (Afterlife) for Free Online

fly. I cannot resist the urge even though it is slower than teleporting. I love feeling the wind beneath my wings.  
    As it is still daylight, I remain invisible and fly toward the Royal London Hospital. It is the closest to Brick Lane, so I assume he is there.  
    Once there, I make myself visible and search the newly admitted patients from the emergency ward. Looking for the familiar face I study each patient. My shoes click softly on the polished floor, mixed with the noises from the health staff and patients. It is a depressing place, looking at all the sickness and injury. Thankfully for most of the people here, they are only in for a temporary visit. I continue to travel between the rooms.  
    I’ve checked every room, and I am certain that I must look lost or suspicious.  
    A nurse in her blue uniform stops and asks, “Are you looking for anyone in particular?”
    I look at her face. She is slightly plump; her skin is fair and her eyes hazel and kind, but they also threatened consequences if someone aggravated her, or her patients.  
    Her unspoken threat didn’t bother me, but I wasn’t here to cause trouble. So I answer, “Yes. Actually I am looking for someone who was admitted this morning — a man with a broken knee.”
    Her eyes cloud. “Oh.”
    “Did he not get admitted here?” I ask, wondering why her expression became sombre.
    She sighs. “If it is the man I think you are talking about, then follow me.”
    She leads me past a few more rooms and stops in front of a closed door. She turns to me and says, “We had a no name admitted today with a broken knee. I hope he is not the one you are looking for.” She places her hand on the door handle and balks. “Prepare yourself.”
    I frown, wondering why I am preparing myself. Curious, I stand in front of the door as it swings back revealing a room with only one bed. Lying on the bed is a figure underneath a sheet. I stare, wondering why a sheet covers a man with a broken leg. I look at the nurse. Her face is sympathetic.  
    “Why is he covered?” I ask. “Didn’t he just have a broken knee?”
    She nods her head and looks me straight in the eyes. “That was his only major physical injury, but there was something wrong with his mental health when the ambulance picked him up.” She sighs and places her hands over her stomach.  
    “What do you mean?” I ask. I can feel the fear rising within me.
    “He seemed spooked or something — like he had witnessed a real life horror.” She steps toward the bed. “Before I tell you anymore, come and take a look to see if he is the man you are looking for.”
    I step closer to the bed, crossing my fingers behind my back and hoping it is not the man I saw this morning. I watch as she grabs the top edge of the white sheet and folds it down over his face. With each bit revealed, I find it harder to breathe. Finally, it is lowered to show the whole face. I can’t breathe. It is him. He looks ghostly white. I stare at the lifeless form in front of me while lost in dark thoughts, trying to understand how he has died. He was so full of life this morning.  
    I hear a faint voice beside me, but I do not truly hear it. I think I hear it again, but I am not sure. I continue staring. A hand lands on my arm and I jump from the contact.
    Looking to the owner of the touch, I find myself looking at the nurse’s sympathetic side. “Is he the one?” she asks.
    I nod.  
    “I’m sorry, dear. He must have been close to you. You look horrible.”  
    I shake my head. “No, not close, but I knew him.” I choke remembering the evil and remaining good that was within him. “What happened?”
    “He committed suicide. We think it was because of the mental problem he had I told you about.”
    “What? How?” I stammer.
    Her eyes divert to the floor. “He had a mobile phone on him. He smashed it and slashed his wrists with the glass from the screen. I’m so sorry . . . we couldn’t save him.”
    I feel my face drop. I