2. Clearing the Fog

The room was filled with an unfamiliar scent, the bed was too soft, and it was generally too loud. Not loud loud, but people were moving about outside the room.

Before Thomas could jump with alarm, he remembered. The depot. He was in the depot, he was here with Edith, his lovely, beautiful, brilliant wife, a stolen night before the horrors would go on. He kept his eyes closed and smiled, remembering … everything. Her scent, her touch, her whispers to him. So different.

No. He'd have to try to save her. He had to be careful about this, if he acted abruptly, he would fail. Lucille's poison was slow, so he had time. But if Edith died, he wasn't certain that he wanted to live. Alone. With Lucille. The prospect of upholding that fateful oath at such a cost seemed more terrifying than anything else he could conceive.

Filled with longing, Thomas reached out to his side. His hand met only an empty bed, but a jolt of pain shot through his chest and he sat up abruptly.

He took in the room, the bed, noted a figure hurrying off. Hospital. He was in a hospital. And it all came back to him. Before he could make up his mind to get out of bed, Doctor Pilgrim entered and closed the door. 'So you're awake.' He gestured behind himself. 'I posted a nurse in your room, in case you're wondering.'

'Edith.' His throat hurt, but he managed to get her name out. 'She's …'

'She was here, she will be fine now. She'll use crutches for another week or two, but with any luck, she'll recover fully without so much as a limp.'

Thomas tried to stand and succeeded in falling out of the bed. He struggled to his feet, using the bedframe as support. 'No. She's sick, too. She's been poisoned, we …'

'Sir Thomas. I am aware of what Lucille has done to your wife. Both Mr McMichael and she have told us of the events that led to the tragedy in your house. Please, get back into bed, you are far from healthy.'

'But …'

'Listen. I need you to stay here for a little while. Rest assured that Mrs Sharpe is safe. She has left the hospital already.'

'Do you know where she went?'

'Home, she said.'

Thomas nodded slowly. Buffalo, then. 'The other man. Alan McMichael. Is he all right?'

'Ah. Yes. Much like you, he lost a lot of blood, but he will be fine. He has left already. You, however, developed an infection and slipped in and out of consciousness for a couple of weeks. You had me very worried, Sir Thomas. This is the first lucid conversation you're having.'

'What did I say before I was lucid?'

'Sadly, the nurse I placed here does not understand enough English to follow the muttering of a man that is only partly conscious.'

'Why are you protecting me?'

'I left your fate in your wife's hands. It was her call to end you or … not. She decided not to, and I did not mean to sabotage her fervent attempts to keep you whole and free.'

Thomas finally returned himself to the bed. He was tired, infinitely tired. 'I'm sure they'll be happy together.' He frowned slightly. 'Did Edith ask at all …'

'Every single day at least once until she left. And if it's any consolation, I did not observe that she was interested in her friend. From the way it looked, they might have been siblings.' Thomas cringed inwardly, but Pilgrim, standing next to him, made no further comment that hinted he knew. 'I have no idea what she's going to do with you, but I can tell you one thing: She's saved your neck. I think you were much more involved in Lucille's crimes than she made it sound. If we take her word for it, you were little more than a prisoner yourself. And her word is the only word we have, so you are a free man.'

'I was weak and stupid,' Thomas said. 'Pathetic. I've always been pathetic. I'm just … glad that she's alive.'

'There's a chance she's in your house, you know. She really did just say she went home without being any more specific.'

'It was never a home to her.' How could it have been? Again, he thought of the depot. They should have vanished. They could have been happy and he could have taken his secrets to the grave. 'How long do I need to stay?'

'Until you can stand for longer than half a minute, for starters.' Pilgrim sighed. 'Rest, young man. Look at yourself. You've got so much time ahead of you. I suggest you take the fact that you still live as an incentive to do better. I shall return tomorrow.'