Chapter Forty-Three
The shades were drawn. Except for the lone flickering candle stub on the nightstand, the room lay shrouded in darkness. The only sound was the soft spattering of raindrops on the stone windowsills. A damp breeze flowed into the room, waking Richie. When he opened his eyes, his head swam. He gulped, tried to move, and found he could not. His legs were held apart. He had no idea why. He was on his back tightly strapped to a bed that was not his own. Straining to lift his head, he looked toward his feet and realized he could no longer see them. The rise of the sheet below his chin blocked his view. When he twisted his head to see around the rise, he felt the motion and an unnatural strain and pain in his chest wall. He was actually heavier in his chest.
It began to come
