CHAPTER 18Ripples and Repercussions
“Garrick?” Monte leaned over his brother’s bed. He thought he had seen movement—a twitch, maybe. But Garrick just lay there, his body tranquil save for the gentle rising and falling of his chest, his mind seemingly vacant and unaware.
Monte sighed. Garrick had only resurfaced to consciousness a handful of times since the night of the Fairy Ball, and each instance had been brief, not to mention confusing. He would stare around the room with glassy eyes, as though he didn’t know where he was. Slurred, incomprehensible words sometimes dribbled from his lips before he would drift away again.
Monte slumped back into the chair. Grandmother Meriweather’s far from dulcet tones coasted up the stairs from below, followed by Kiernan Calder’s strong English accen
