A Five-Minute Life - Emma Scott Page 0,41

stole glances at Thea, hoping to see her with a pen in her hand and that smile on her lips.

But she sat with her hands folded in her lap, staring at nothing.

Rita met my gaze and shook her head, saddened and helpless too.

I hurried in my tasks to avoid Delia, but she showed up early and strode directly to me.

“Why are you in here?”

“Just cleaning up,” I said. “I haven’t spoken to her, Ms. Hughes. I promise.”

“I would goddamn well hope not. You need to leave. Now. I don’t want you anywhere near my sister. In fact, the next time I see you will be at the meeting I’ve arranged with Drs. Poole and Stevens.”

I nodded. I hurt Thea and would probably lose my job over it. A small price to pay.

“Delia,” Thea called weakly from her table behind us. No energy. Hardly a smile. “You’re here. How long has it been?”

Before Delia could reply, the skin-shivering sound of a rattle filled the rec room. My stomach clenched and my palms went sweaty at the sight of a snake, striated silver with dark gray diamonds, gliding out of the supply closet and across the rec room floor, silent but for its tail.

For a split second, everyone stared, no one moved. Time stopped.

“You gotta watch for pit vipers, Jim,” Grandpa Jack said from the recesses of my memory—a fishing trip to Lake Murray. “’Round here, the Massasauga rattler is the deadliest. Black and silver beauties, they are, but bad news.”

Bad news.

Someone screamed, and time lurched forward. Residents scrambled out of their chairs and backed away. Delia stumbled in her hurry to reach Thea and fell against the table.

And Thea…

My stomach recoiled in horror as Thea calmly watched the snake make its way toward her. With perfect calm, she kneeled on the floor. Her expression blank but almost peaceful. Serene. Resigned. She held out her hand.

The snake’s tongue was a flicking black fork in a mouth that opened to hiss and show its elongated fangs, less than a foot from Thea’s fingers.

I gripped the broom in both hands like a baseball bat, and in three longs strides, I was there. Thea snatched her hand back as I brought the broom handle down on the snake’s head. It made a sickening splat as it connected. Blood and brain matter spurted across the linoleum in a halo beneath its crushed head, but its body still writhed.

Again and again, I brought the broom down, hating the destruction of the animal, hating what Thea had been doing more.

The Massasauga was dead, and I stood, panting, adrenaline coursing through me instead of blood. Rita and the other residents stared. Delia crouched beside her sister, staring up at me with a mixture of fear and shock.

Thea trembled in her arms, locked in a seizure.

Chapter 13

Jim

“Well, Rita?” Delia demanded as the nurse came down the hallway toward the rec room.

“I gave her a mild sedative,” Rita said. “She’s calm and resting.”

Delia sniffed, checked her watch and continued her pacing.

Now Anna Sutton, the head nurse, joined the gathering. It was her only day off, but when Rita couldn’t get Dr. Poole to answer his phone, she begged Anna to come in. She smoothed her skirt and blouse, clearly wishing she were in her uniform.

“Where is Dr. Poole?” Delia asked, arms crossed tight and fingers gripping the sleeves of her blazer. “Or Dr. Stevens? I told you, I want a meeting with both, Monday morning.”

“Dr. Stevens is at a conference in Miami until tomorrow,” Anna said. “Dr. Poole is unavailable. But we’ll arrange—”

“Unreachable, you mean,” Delia said. “Disgraceful.”

“Rita, I want a nurse stationed in Miss Hughes’ room for the next twenty-four hours,” Anna said. “Alonzo, what’s the situation in the rec room?”

“Joaquin’s cleaning up. All other residents are safe.”

The rec room door opened, and Joaquin came out with the mop bucket and a plastic bag, heavy with the bloody coils of the dead snake. I’d offered to do the cleaning, but Delia didn’t want me out of her sight.

“All good, boss,” he said. He gave me a sympathetic glance and rolled the mop bucket down the hall.

“How on earth did a snake make its way into our walls in the first place, Mr. Waters?” Anna asked.

“A hole in the exterior wall that should have been fixed days ago,” Alonzo said. “I take full responsibility.”

I whipped my head toward him. Alonzo had called maintenance a dozen times to fix the hole in the supply closet, and no one showed up. I opened

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