Chapter 4Morning found Oliver nauseated. The medicine cabinet mirror threw back a wild-eyed ashen wraith.
Oliver gripped the sink, cool porcelain scant comfort to his racing heart and the blood pounding in his ears. Close to the spigot, he splashed cold water on his face, over and over until it ran in rivers down his body, puddling on the floor.
Then he collapsed in the cold water and wept. Bitter salt tears reddened his eyes, made him gasp. He trembled, clutching himself.
Between his thighs and lower he discovered reddened, chapped skin that looked frozen and charred.
Later, in the late afternoon sun, dying rays of wan light cast slants of gray on the hardwood. Outside a purple sky filtered down to pink tinged with gold on the horizon. Budding trees blackened in silhouette.
Oliver pi
