Read Savannah Past Midnight for Free Online Page B

base of your
jaw and then very slowly work them down. I would like you to tell
me at what point you stop feeling my touch.”
    “I will.”
    I focus and feel his cool fingers along my skin as
they ever so slowly shift down my neck.
    “There. Right there.”
    I dip my chin and see his fingers resting about two
inches above my collarbone. My eyes fly to his. Immediately I see
that whatever he’s thinking isn’t good. Since his first step into
the room, the man has been smiling—his lips soft, friendly. Now
they are turned down into a frown.
    “W-what is it? You can fix me, can’t you?” I’m unable
to stop my voice from rising to a near shriek.
    “What’s wrong with me? Tell me this is temporary,
please!”
    His dark blue eyes behind his small spectacles
express profound sorrow.
    He breathes deeply before saying, “Cosette, it would
be cruel to be less than honest with you. It is my opinion that due
to your fall, you have sustained a severe injury to your neck that
has most likely severed your spinal cord. It pains me greatly to
tell you this, but there is nothing that can be done to repair the
damage. I am so very sorry. Something like this should never happen
to a smart, beautiful young woman such as yourself.”
    He and his consoling words fade away as my eyes fill
with tears that begins to stream down my face.
    “Ah, there, there.” He uses his handkerchief to
gently wipe the tears away.
    “I will give my recommendations to your grandfather
for your care. Cosette, try to be strong. I know that this is a lot
for you to comprehend at the moment.”
    Awash in a sea of self loathing and despair, I am
barely aware of him packing up his bag. My choked sobs grow louder
as he walks toward the door.
    With one hand on the knob, he turns to face me.
“Cosette, may I please ask what were you counting when I
arrived?”
    I stare at him and struggle to reply, “The
fleurs-de-lis on the wallpaper.”
    His wise eyes scan each wall of the large bedroom for
a long moment, his face registering disbelief as I continue, “There
are fourteen thousand eight hundred and sixty-one. I’ve counted
them all. Eleven times now.”
    His cheeks turn ashen as his gaze drops down to his
shoes. Without another word he pulls the door open and
disappears.
    I want to die.
     
    That night would be the longest of my life.
    After listening to Dr. Harden deliver the news to my
grandfather, I hear him weep, brokenhearted, until I am certain
that I will go mad from the misfortune that I have brought upon our
small family. Hours tick by until the house grows silent. A light
breeze wafting in through my open balcony is the only relief from
the stifling humidity that seems to hang ever-present, both day and
night, from April well into October in the Deep South.
    My thoughts finally slow down after the whirlwind of
emotions that the final diagnosis set in motion. Heaven only knows
what expense my grandfather went to in order to bring the doctor
here from the north. As one of the only back specialists in the
entire United States, he must charge a small fortune. A new wave of
guilt begins to engulf me as I speculate what my care will cost him
over the course of my useless life.
    “Cosette.”
    I gasp with astonishment at the arrival of a towering
man and a petite woman who seem to have appeared from out of
nowhere. They begin to move toward me with fluid grace from the
dense shadows of my bedroom.
    “Cosette, don’t be frightened, and for God’s sake,
don’t scream.”
    His low, crisp voice is terrifying in its eerie
calmness as the duo makes their way around the side of my bed. I
want to shout at them to get away but my terror has me utterly
frozen. As they come closer I blink in shock as the single gas lamp
reveals the identity of the male intruder.
    Stunned, I whisper, “Impossible.”
    Without hesitation and as if he expected my comment,
the striking man says, “Very possible.”
    “A-are you who I think you are? My … my