Chapter 9
The small group rode in silence. Arn was dead. Nicholle squeezed her eyes closed to shut out the doctor’s words, ‘I’m sorry, but there’s nothing more we can do.’ Still. In this day and age, there was still nothing more to be done. Death always reaped its harvest.
Guilt was a vulture resting on her shoulder, eyeing her with a familial gaze. Welcome home, she thought. It’s been a long time.
On the floor in Cor’s basement, she had woken up with a headache that could have felled Paul Bunyan. They had all been out for several minutes, but when they checked on Arn, it was too late. He laid there with vacant eyes, mouth agape. They held onto hope as they were all taken to the hospital. Nicholle had given a fake name, denied permission to access her node. She checked out fine. Arn had
