74: Remnants

“Of course she’s been seen by a doctor,” Andrew snapped. “I told you what he said.”

Evelyn could hear the tension in his voice even before she woke fully. She ought to get up and check on him, before his temper escalated to something they’d both regret. The instant she tried to move, however, her body objected.

Vehemently.

She lay in bed, her eyes still closed to block the light, and took stock of her physical state.

Dear God, I hurt.

Not just a little either.

Every single muscle from her head to her feet throbbed with exhausted pain, as if she was a new recruit after her first day of military basic training. Oh, how she longed for that magical vial of aspirin Madame Moreau had included in her toiletry bag and the relief it promised.

Even the muscles in her hands felt as though she’d abused them. If she considered how that was remotely possible, it seemed a truly singular feat indeed.

“I beg your pardon?” Andrew’s words