Whispering Hearts (House of Secrets #3) - V.C. Andrews Page 0,104

that world of baubles, bangles, and beads. Living and working beside death for most of his day, it was surely an escape to come through the magnificent, castle-like entrance of Wyndemere and find his princess waiting to wash away any remnants of the darkness he had traveled in outside.

Now it had come in, and he had only the darkness now, and I think I went to bed crying over that as much as the loss of Samantha herself.

A baby monitor was beside Samantha’s bed. It was what woke me early in the morning the first night I slept in her room. I went to Ryder immediately, and then, like she often did, I brought him back to her bedroom. When I was nursing him regularly, she’d call me to her room and lie beside me while I nursed him. Now he was on his bottle, and again, as she always did, I watched him feed, his eyes on me as if he was looking for approval, as if he knew he had gone elsewhere for his nourishment and wanted to be sure I wasn’t upset.

Afterward, we both fell back to sleep. I wasn’t sure if I had dreamed it or not, but I thought Dr. Davenport had opened the bedroom door and stood at the foot of the bed for a while. When I did wake up, he wasn’t there, of course. Ryder was still sleeping. I washed up, dressed for breakfast, and carried him down with me.

“He was up before I arrived this morning,” Mrs. Marlene said. “Parker was taking him off when I pulled in. George told me he had insisted on going to his office.”

“Maybe that is best,” I said.

“How long do you think you will stay?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t given that much thought. Every time I start to, I feel terribly selfish.”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “You’ve got to think of your future, too, not that I don’t dread the day you walk out of here.”

Ryder looked at both of us, suspicion in his eyes.

Mrs. Marlene laughed first, and then I did.

It sounded like the crack in a sheet of ice.

Just a little bit of light came pouring through.

As long as I had Ryder to occupy me, I would be able to hold together, I thought. It was those quiet moments alone that would be devastating.

How could I live through those?

EPILOGUE

The first time it happened, at the start, I thought I was having a dream. I would never deny to myself that I had fantasized it more than once. Franklin had told me that Harrison was at the hospital, but confining himself to administrative work, and he had not agreed to take on any new patients or surgeries. He came home at dinner to spend time with Ryder and then retreated almost immediately afterward to his office.

One night, when he came into the dining room, I decided to take the seat Samantha always took. Samantha and I used to sit on both sides of Ryder in his high chair, she always on his right, which was on Dr. Davenport’s left. It felt right to me, right for Ryder, and right for Dr. Davenport. He smiled, but neither of us said anything about it.

Mrs. Marlene paused at the kitchen door. I glanced at her. She looked a little frightened but nodded. I liked that she approved.

I thought about the questions Samantha would ask Dr. Davenport at dinner and toyed with them in my mind. He hadn’t been very talkative during the week, but I didn’t expect he would be.

“Are you very busy?” I asked.

The way he looked at me suggested he wasn’t going to answer, but he did. “I’ve put most everything on hold for a while. I’m catching up on reports, new research, and the like.”

I nodded and continued to feed Ryder. Later that night, he looked in on me in the library. I could see that he had been drinking again or, actually, still. It was the way he was putting himself to sleep these nights.

“I should talk to you about your future,” he said. “Please forgive me.”

“I’m fine. Let’s give it a while,” I said, which obviously pleased him.

“Are you rereading that or reading it for the first time?” he asked, nodding at the copy of Rebecca in my hands. Samantha hadn’t quite finished it. I had the feeling I was finishing it for her.

“Rereading. I’ve forgotten so much.”

“When something is good, it shouldn’t be forgotten.” He stood there. I

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