Annabelle stood frozen for a long after ending the call, her fingers still clenched around the phone like it might bite her. The knot in her chest tightened until she thought she’d choke on it. Alan. Hospital. Blood transfusion. The words wouldn’t stop hammering in her head.
She dragged in a deep breath, then another, forcing the tremor from her hands. She couldn’t lose her head—not now, not with Richard watching her like a hawk.
When she turned, her face was calm again, though the effort left her jaw aching.
“I’m going to see Hazel,” she said evenly, reaching for her coat.
Richard’s eyes narrowed, measuring her. “Marc will take you.”
Inside, her frustration flared. Of course. The almighty jailer never lets the prisoner fetch her own water. But outwardly, she just dipped her head in a
