CHAPTER 35
LIKE LILITH ALWAYS did, I woke after a few hours of fitful sleep with a movie reel playing through my mind. Blood, death, Zacharov’s lifeless eyes staring up at me. And Sam. Sam lying still at my feet with crimson splashes on my shoes. Not what I needed when we were due to leave for Russia at nine the next morning. I tried to force the images from my head, but every time I closed my eyes, they came back.
The clock on the nightstand ticked around another ten minutes, the illuminated hand glowing in the darkness, and I rolled out of bed. Walking used to help me relax. A soft robe hung on the bathroom door, and I slipped it on before stepping out into the corridor. Emmy’s room was nearby, unlike in big Riverley where she slept in a different wing, and I paused to listen. Nothing.
