Free Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) by Krystal Wade Page A

change in his condition.
    “I will find you if I notice any improvement,” she says, getting up from her chair.
    “I-I—” I want to run to him, sit next to him, hold his hand and tell him everything’s going to be okay, but he’s not there.
    “Go.” She crosses the room, puts her hands on my shoulders, then guides me through the door. “There is nothing you can do.”
    The old Healer is right. There’s no sense in going in; it wouldn’t help me find a way to get him home, and it would only make me feel worse, watching him as he lies motionless on the bed.
    Shay eases the heavy door closed behind me.

    Dirty dishes litter the tables in the dining room, chairs are not in their proper places, and the buffet table is empty. I go into the kitchen, hoping to find someone soon because I’m beginning to feel alone, but there’s no one in here either. It appears everyone has already eaten and gone about their business for the day.
    Cleaning is the best idea I have for busying myself. I collect the plates from the dining room, take them to the sink—already full of water—and begin washing.
    Back home, in periods of stress, I’d clean. After mailing out college applications, I’d work on the house until it gleamed. Every day, I came home from school and vacuumed, did the dishes, dusted—anything to get my mind off the waiting game. The afternoon my first acceptance letter came, the cleaning sessions became more intense. The acceptance wasn’t from the school I wanted to attend; they were merely the first to write back. Twelve more acceptance letters graced our mailbox, but the one for Virginia Tech came last. During those few months, Mom never had to lift a finger. I inherited my habits from her, anyway. Mom did the same thing I did. When Gary had a heart attack and had to stay in the hospital for a week, Mom could barely find time to visit him with all the straightening up she was doing.
    After a few trips back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, I’ve managed to wash all the dishes. The tables also get a good wipe down, and I push the old chairs, similar to the wooden one in my room, back into their places. I look around the rooms, smiling, proud of my work.
    ”Well,” someone behind me says in a high-pitched voice.
    Sucking in a sharp breath, I turn around. The redheaded woman who prepared food for Brad yesterday enters the dining room from the hallway.
    “It appears as though you have finished up
my
job. Now what am I going to do with myself?” she says, her tone layered with irony. Laughing, she moves beside me. “We have not formally met; my name is Flanna.”
    “It’s nice to meet you, Flanna.” I’m able to see her face in full detail now. Flanna appears to be a year or two older than I am. She has crystal blue eyes, a short nose, and a pointed chin. She’s smiling and absolutely stunning.
    “Arland said you were beautiful, but with all that muck covering you, it was hard to tell for sure. I am glad you discovered the washroom this morning,” she says, winking.
    It’s a little embarrassing to hear that Arland spoke about me
and
that everyone noticed how disgusting I was, but Flanna doesn’t seem to understand this.
    “Did I frighten you when I brought in your towel and clothes? I did not want to see you running down the hall wearing nothing but your skin.”
    “No, you didn’t scare me. I never even knew you were there, but thank you. I appreciate your kindness.” I like Flanna. Her gentle humor reminds me a great deal of Brit’s sarcasm.
    Flanna wraps her arm around me. She drags me up the stairs and into the kitchen.
    “You washed all the dishes, too?” she asks, appraising the sink.
    “Yep.”
    She kisses me on the cheek. “You and I are going to be very good friends!”
    “I see you have met Flanna. Do not listen to anything my cousin says about me; she would only tell lies,” Arland says.
    I don’t notice him enter the room, but when I hear him speak in his