Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,91

information on to a staff member inside. He told me to wait a few minutes, and then I’d be allowed in when they were ready to show her. I thanked the man and lingered outside with Kale.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked me.

I was never surer of anything in my life.

“I have to see her,” I replied.

He was quiet for a minute or two, and just as he was about to speak, the double doors to the morgue opened, and I was told I could go see Lavender.

“Wait,” Kale said as I began to walk forward.

He grabbed hold of my hand and said, “You don’t want to see her like that, Lane. You think you do, but you don’t.”

I pulled my hand from his. “You don’t know a thing about what I want, Kale. You never have.”

I turned away from him and walked through the doors that led to the morgue. I nodded to the man who allowed me entry, and I followed a different man wearing a long white coat into a very cold room. I hesitated for a few seconds at the entryway of the room, but I walked through the doors. When the sight of my friend lying on a steel bed came into view, I placed my hand against my stomach in silent prayer for it not to spill.

I walked slowly over to Lavender, keeping my eyes on her beautiful face, and not on the white sheet covering her body. When I was next to her I reached out and placed the back of my fingers against her cheek, my heart squeezing with pain when I felt how cold she was. She had died only a few hours ago, but already her body was drained of heat, and it was hard to bear because I knew how much she hated being cold.

“How did you get here, Lav?” I whispered to her.

When she didn’t reply, my lower lip trembled.

I could see the point on her temple where she had been struck. It was discoloured and looked a little dented, like something had crushed into the side of her skull. It was comforting knowing she had felt no pain, and she looked like she was sleeping, but my heart knew otherwise. Her cold skin was paler than I had ever seen, and her lips weren’t pink anymore; they were a pasty white colour.

The bruising on her forehead and the rest of her face didn’t look that bad, but logically I knew it was because she was dead, and that meant her body wasn’t working anymore. Her heart wasn’t pumping blood to give a distinct colour to her skin any longer.

I didn’t know how long I stayed with her, but when I kissed her and left the room, I was shivering with the cold. Kale, who was sitting on the floor where I’d left him outside of the morgue, jumped to his feet when he saw me return.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I shook my head but said nothing.

“Darling,” he murmured.

“She’s really dead,” I whispered. “I touched her. She is really cold, her skin is sickly pale and she has no heartbeat. She’s not moving, she’s so still . . . just lying there with a little white sheet over her body.”

“Lane,” Kale sighed, and put his arms around my body, hugging me to him.

It was a weird thought, but I wondered what Drew would do if she knew Kale was with me. She’d probably lay me up in the morgue right next to Lavender.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “you’re scaring me. I’ve never seen you so withdrawn before.”

I blinked up at Kale and said, “I don’t feel anything. What’s wrong with me?”

He frowned. “It’s shock, that’s all.”

I felt numb, and I didn’t like not feeling anything. I looked up at Kale then and decided I needed to feel something. Without warning, I lifted my face to his and brushed my lips against his. For a moment he applied a sliver of pressure, but then he broke away.

“I can’t, Lane,” he whispered as he pulled back from me. “I’m with Drew.”

I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach, and my chest ached. I got what I wanted. I didn’t feel numb anymore.

“I know.” I looked down, realising it was a shitty thing I’d just tried to do knowing good and well that he was taken. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low. “Do you want to go home?”

I shook my head. “I want to go see