Chapter 3 - THE MAN INSIDE THE DARKNESS
Willa moved beside the bed.
“Everett, if you can hear me, move your finger again.”
Nothing happened.
She waited.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Then his finger twitched.
Willa covered her mouth.
“Oh my God.”
Inside his mind, Everett was fighting through mud.
Move.
Come on.
Move.
His muscles felt disconnected from him.
But he had heard her.
He understood her.
Willa leaned close.
“One movement for yes. Two for no.”
She swallowed.
“Do you hear me?”
One twitch.
Tears filled her eyes.
“You’re conscious.”
One twitch.
Willa stepped back.
For eight months, people had talked around Everett as if he were furniture.
Now she understood the horror.
He had been trapped inside his body.
Listening.
Remembering.
Unable to stop any of it.
“Did Sterling know?”
Everett’s finger moved once.
Willa felt sick.
“Is Whitfield drugging you?”
Once.
She closed her eyes.
“How long?”
Everett couldn’t answer.
Willa pressed her palms against her face.
She needed evidence.
Not accusations.
The last time she accused Whitfield of wrongdoing, she had lost her career.
This time she would be smarter.
“I’m going to help you.”
Everett’s finger moved.
Willa’s voice dropped.
“But I need you to trust me.”
One twitch.
The next morning, Whitfield replaced Everett’s medication.
Willa watched from across the room.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m learning.”
Whitfield laughed.
“You already had your chance at medicine.”
Willa smiled.
“You seem nervous for a man who thinks I’m stupid.”
His expression changed.
That night, Willa studied every medication she could identify.
She did not remove anything suddenly.
A body sedated for months could seize, crash, or go into dangerous withdrawal.
Instead, she made tiny changes.
A little less.
Then waited.
Measured Everett’s response.
Recorded everything.
Each night, she talked to him.
She told him about nursing school.
About Ruth forgetting Willa’s name.
About living in her Honda.
One night, Everett moved two fingers.
Willa leaned closer.
“What?”
His hand shifted toward the water glass.
“You’re thirsty?”
One twitch.
She used a sponge to wet his mouth.
“Better?”
One twitch.
Willa smiled.
“You’re demanding for a man who hasn’t said a word to me.”
Everett’s finger moved twice.
She laughed softly.
The sound surprised both of them.
Days passed.
Then one evening, Everett’s lips moved.
Willa nearly dropped the cloth in her hand.
“Again.”
His mouth opened.
A dry sound escaped.
“St…”
Willa bent down.
“What?”
Everett forced air through his throat.
“Ster…”
Her heart pounded.
“Sterling?”
One twitch.
“What about him?”
Everett’s eyes remained shut.
His mouth moved again.
“Desk.”
“His desk?”
Two twitches.
“Your desk?”
One.
Willa thought.
Everett’s private office was forbidden.
Locked.
Guarded.
“What’s in your desk?”
Everett struggled.
A single word came out.
“Red.”
Then the door handle turned.
Willa straightened.
Sterling walked in.
He looked from Willa to Everett.
Then smiled.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Willa forced a laugh.
“I was talking to myself.”
Sterling stepped closer to the bed.
His gaze landed on Everett’s hand.
Then on Willa.
“You know, cousin,” Sterling said, “your new wife is becoming very attached.”
Willa felt Everett’s finger move beneath the blanket.
Sterling leaned closer.
“Almost like she thinks you can hear her.”
May you like
Willa’s blood ran cold.
Cliffhanger: Everett had given Willa one clue—“red”—and Sterling was beginning to realize the sleeping king might not be sleeping at all.
