Twenty-fiveDelighted laughter came pealing down the hallway as Aristide stepped into Pike Consulting’s reception area. Sarah’s desk was unoccupied, but someone was here, and having a jolly time, by the sound of it. A wave of deep fatigue washed over him. Would he ever laugh like that again? Like he didn’t have a care in the world?
Every breath in his bruised ribs reminded him of Belle’s barrel. His left arm hung in a tidy sling, the shoulder hit by Belle’s bullet cleaned and bandaged and pronounced a mere flesh wound. But the desperate lethargy in his soul when he saw the bloody mess she’d made of her once-beautiful face? He didn’t think any medicine could fix that.
He banged the bell on the counter with his right hand and waited.
Will’s head peered around the doorframe down the open ha
