Blood Atonement by S.M. Freedman

Author:S.M. Freedman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn Press

* * *

Grace stood in front of the hall mirror, her hands cupped over her breasts. Her face looked odd, older and broader than she remembered. Her breasts felt soft beneath the stiff fabric of her shirt. She let her hands drop, and continued to stare at herself in the mirror, trying to find herself in the reflection. Her eyes were the feature that usually brought her home. One blue, one brown. A duality that seemed fitting.

The doorbell rang. The receiver was on the wall in the hallway directly above her, and the chiming hurt her ear and made her jump. She pulled away from the mirror, smoothed her hair, and moved toward the front door.

A uniformed RCMP officer stood on the stoop. Alarms went off in her head, and the voices started screaming.

Police!

We’re in danger!

“Grace DeRoche?”

“No.”

“Is Grace home?” the officer asked.

“What? No, we’re Grace.”

He blinked. His eyes were so dark she couldn’t tell pupil from iris. “You’re Grace DeRoche?”

“What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

“I’m Officer James Fellner with the Nakusp RCMP. Ma’am, a protection detail has been ordered for you, just as a precaution.”

Grace’s hands went to her chest, as though trying to stop her heart from breaking free of her rib cage. “Protection detail?”

He pulled a notepad from his pocket. “It was ordered by RCMP Headquarters in Vancouver.”

“Why?”

“Weren’t you informed? I was told to head on up here, introduce myself, and set up a perimeter surveillance.”

“No.”

“Ma’am?”

“No. We can’t have you here.”

When the police come, we must run for the forest.

She shook from head to toe, her ear buzzed, and the familiar fog settled over her mind.

We must hide.

“Shut up!”

The officer stepped back, his expression hardening. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Sorry,” she said.

Just get him away from us.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t need you here. I’m fine, okay?”

“Are you refusing protection?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t need it.”

He backed away from her, one hand on his gun belt. She could feel her eyeballs skittering from side to side. She knew how crazy it made her look.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes! But thank you.” She closed the door and listened to the sound of gravel crunching under tires as the officer left. Once he was gone, she ran to the phone, intent on calling Shelby, but saw from the call display that her therapist had already called.

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