Chapter Twenty-FiveShe took a couple of long, slow breaths to steady herself before entering the room. The corpse lay there, twisted and empty.
Clare stared for a moment. “Not that empty,” she observed, speaking to poor Clifford. Fluid wept from the patches on his upper arms. “He didn't finish his meal.”
Taking the blood glucose meter Ellen Covlioni had pressed upon her, Clare inserted a testing strip from a small pot in the pack and dipped it into the fluid that oozed from the wound. There was a strong smell of acetone in the room, particularly around the corpse. Clare tried to avoid looking at the face while she worked on the wound but she could feel sunken eyes staring at her as they would have been staring at the creature as it drained the poor boy's life away.
The meter bleeped, a
