Jean-Claude had crawled up on the bed, near the pillows. I expected to see the basement door open, but it wasn't. Richard had taken me at my word. I was ready to offer to open a vein myself, when I felt hands on my hips.
You are not well. I touched Damian's bowed head. I had a moment to realize that he'd slammed a door between not just himself and me, but between Richard and me, as well. Blood was trickling down my hand to drop, drop onto the white floor.
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