Suddenly nervous, I pushed myself up to a sitting position so that I could see the boy better. He stared at me, and then stepped into the room slowly, taking care not to brush against anything. Owen and the woman stayed in the hall, and Dr. Tierney stepped into it, closing the door behind her.
I stared at the boy I was certain was Timothy Bates, unsure of what to say.
“Hello,” he murmured.
“Hello,” I replied. “You… you must be Tim.”
Tim nodded and took a step toward me. “Sick,” he said, nodding toward the machine.
It was my turn to nod. “Yes, but getting better.”
“Lucky,” he replied, tilting his gaze around the room.
I frowned and leaned forward. His head snapped back to me, eyes studying me intently. “Why?” he asked finally, and my frown intensified in confusion.
“Why what?”
He gave me an irritated look. “Violet—why?”
Comprehension dawned on me and I blew out.
This was… not going to be easy.
“Tim, it’s… complicated,” I hedged.
Tim frowned and then shook his head. “Love?”
I stalled, clueless as to how to answer the question. The feelings I felt for Violet were deep… and complicated. I didn’t know where we’d stood before my little tantrum, and I was even more uncertain now.
“I… uh.” I gulped. “I care a lot for your sister,” I managed, and he nodded.
“Good,” he replied. “Tell her.”
I let out a breath and shook my head. “It’s not so… simple,” I replied and he shook his head.
“No. Tell her. Say sorry. It’s enough.”
“That’s what I’m planning to do,” I protested. “I’m just trying to get my feet under me so I can do it.”
Tim frowned, then shook his head again, more vigorously this time. “No. Now. She’s… sad.”
“But I—”
“Violet talks about you,” Tim said, interrupting me. “Told me stories. ‘Viggo is brave, Tim. He’s so good, so kind, so caring. Treats me like a person.’” Tim’s eyes met mine, and I could see tears in them. “Not a person,” he whispered, touching his chest with his fingers. “Monster. But you… you’re… a person. She’s a person. She needs you. You need her. So, now!”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the words stuck in my throat as he abruptly turned and walked out of the room. I watched as he stopped in front of the older woman. She asked him something and he nodded, holding his head high. Then the older woman flashed a glance at me, and I gaped at her… This was Desmond. The resemblance between her and Lee was too clear to me as I caught sight of her eyes.
She said something to Owen, who then left with Tim. Desmond let herself in and I settled back into my pillows, studying her.
“Mr. Croft, we haven’t met yet, but I’m—”
“Desmond Bertrand,” I announced for her, and she smiled, the lines beside her eyes crinkling.
“Indeed. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, considering I’m being taken care of by a woman whose son tried to set me up for a bombing I had no knowledge of.”
Desmond frowned. “Mr. Croft, please, I’ve explained to Violet…”
I waved my hand. “Whatever. Regardless, you offered haven to Violet, myself, her brother, and… no, probably not Ms. Dale, and we’re all awesome friends now, right?”
Desmond smirked, her eyes glistening with laughter. “I knew I’d like you,” she remarked.
“Interesting thing, hindsight, huh?”
There was a flash of something behind her eyes and her face tightened. “Mr. Croft, I had no idea you and Ms. Bates were malcontents. You were just pieces to me—and unfortunately for you, you were expendable. However, given the situation, I have done my best to make amends. I hope you’ll consider that the next time your patronizing streak manifests.”
I narrowed my gaze at her. “You have this blunt thing down, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“The act, right? It’s bold, but then again, you’ve got a lot of guts.”
Desmond looked unfazed under my scrutiny, and that in itself was telling. Most people who were bad liars would start to protest. But she was schooled, careful and precise. She could slip in and out of the role, but only when it suited her. It took a keen eye to pick up on the signs, but they were there.
In the way that she opened her mouth to retort before slowly closing it and forming a tight smile. In the calculating gaze that she leveled at me as she ran through the options that would be most effective on me. She was so smooth, so collected about it, it was a wonder that I had even picked up on it. But I had, although I wasn’t sure what it meant yet.