All Chapters of Blood and Mercy: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

28 Chapters

The Test Result

CassieThe break room smells like burnt coffee and something else I can’t quite place. Maybe it’s the trash nobody’s taken out in three days, or maybe it’s just the weight of too many double shifts soaking into the walls. I don’t know anymore.It’s three in the morning. The fluorescent lights overhead are buzzing, that constant hum that gets under your skin after the first hour and doesn’t leave. I’ve been staring at my phone for the last ten minutes, watching the screen light up and go dark, light up and go dark.Seven missed calls and angry texts.All from Mara. I know what they say without even opening them. ‘Where the hell are you?’‘Jonah had another nightmare.’‘You promised you’d be home by midnight.’‘I can’t keep doing this alone.’My thumb hovers over the notifications, but I can’t make myself tap them. Not yet. Not when I already know I’ve failed her again.The coffee in front of me has gone cold. There’s a brown ring around the rim where I took one sip an hour ago and ga

They won’t Know

CassieI don’t know how long I sit there. Could be twenty minutes. Could be an hour. Time feels strange right now, like it’s moving too fast and too slow at the same time.Eventually I get up. My legs are stiff and my back aches from sitting on the hard floor, but I make it to the break room and pour myself another cup of coffee even though it tastes like dirt and I know it’s not going to help.The room’s fuller now. Day shift’s starting to trickle in, a few early arrivals getting their caffeine fix before rounds start. I take my usual spot in the corner, the chair by the window that nobody else likes because the air conditioner vent blows cold air directly on it.I’m halfway through my cup when Renee walks in. She spots me, raises an eyebrow. “You look like hell.”“Thanks.”She pours herself coffee. Leans against the counter. “Double?”“Triple.”“Jesus, Cass.”Two more nurses come in behind her. Shauna and Beth. They head straight for the coffee pot, already mid-conversation.“I’m ju

The Contract

CassieI’ve never been to a café like this before.White marble tables. Gold accents on everything. The kind of place where the lighting is soft enough to make everyone look expensive. There’s a glass case near the counter filled with pastries that probably cost more than my grocery budget for a week.I’m sitting by the window, both hands wrapped around a water glass because I need something to hold onto. The waitress brought it in a bottle. An actual glass bottle with a label I couldn’t pronounce and a slice of lemon balanced on the rim.My phone says 1:58 PM.She said two.My leg is bouncing under the table. I try pressing my palm against my knee to stop it but my whole body feels like it’s vibrating. Like I’m coming apart at the seams and the only thing holding me together is the fact that I’m sitting in public and can’t fall apart here.The door opens.A woman steps inside and I know before she even looks around. That’s her.Katrina Petrova.She’s wearing a long coat. Navy blue.

Monday, Four Days From Now

CassieKatrina goes still. Like she wasn’t expecting me to say yes so fast.Then she reaches into her bag. Pulls out a pen and slides it across the table.It’s heavy when I pick it up. The kind of pen that feels important just holding it.I flip to the last page.There’s a line at the bottom with the words Caregiver Signature printed underneath.I press the tip of the pen to the paper.My fingers tremble so badly the first letter comes out jagged. But I keep going. C-a-s-s-i-e. Then my last name. B-r-e-n-n-a-n.When I finish, I set the pen down.Katrina takes the contract. Looks at my signature for a long moment and then at me.“You start Monday,” she says. “A car will pick you up at eight in the morning. Pack for four days. Bring whatever you need to be comfortable. My housekeeper will show you to your room.”“Okay.”“And Miss Brennan?” She stands. Picks up her bag and pulls a few bills from her purse. Drop them on the table beside the untouched drink. “Thank you. Truly.”She leaves

Before Her

KaiI’m sitting in my studio with a blank canvas in front of me, the kind I used to fill without even thinking. Back when my hands knew what to do before my brain caught up, back when drawing was as natural as breathing.Now it’s sitting here, white and empty, like it’s mocking me for even trying.I press the charcoal to the surface anyway, try to make a line, any line at all. But my hand won’t move the way it used to and the stroke comes out shaky and uncertain, nothing like what I’m seeing in my head.I lift the charcoal away and stare at the mark I just made.It looks like nothing.I used to draw Lily every day. Different versions—laughing, concentrating, hair falling over her shoulder. I filled dozens of sketchbooks. But I can’t anymore. The lines don’t come. My hand forgets what she looked like halfway through and I’m left with something that’s almost her but not quite, something that makes my chest ache because it’s wrong and I can’t fix it no matter how many times I try.So I

First Day

CassieThe car is black and spotless, the kind where you’re afraid to breathe too hard in case you mess something up.I’m sitting in the back seat, watching the city fall away through the window. We’ve been driving for thirty minutes now, moving further and further from everything familiar until we’re surrounded by trees and open roads and houses that sit so far back from the street you can barely see them.The driver hasn’t said a word since he picked me up.I check my phone for the fifth time in ten minutes. No new messages. Mara didn’t text me back this morning when I told her I was leaving. Jonah sent a single thumbs up emoji that made my chest ache.I should call them.I will.Just not right now.The car slows and I look up.There’s a gate ahead, tall and iron and imposing, the kind that makes it very clear you’re not supposed to be here unless someone specifically invites you. Stone pillars on either side with the name ‘Petrova’ carved into them in elegant letters.The gate st

This was a Mistake

Cassie The first thing I think when Mrs Rosalind opens the door and steps aside to let me in, is the room is beautiful.It’s bigger than the living room in my apartment. There’s a queen-sized bed with a thick comforter that looks like it’s never been slept in, a dresser, a desk and chair by the window, a door that leads to a private bathroom. The walls are a soft cream color and there’s actual art hanging on them, not posters or prints but real paintings in real frames.“I’ll let you get settled,” Mrs Rosalind says from the doorway. “Take your time. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.”“Thank you.”She leaves, closing the door quietly behind her.I stand there in the middle of the room with my duffel bag at my feet, looking around at a space that’s nicer than anywhere I’ve ever lived.I feel like an imposter.Like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s life and any second now they’re going to figure it out and kick me out.I drop my bag on the bed and sit down next to it, the

Curtain Drama

KaiThe light wakes me up.That’s the first thing I register, before I’m even fully conscious, before I remember where I am or what day it is. Just light, bright and sharp, cutting through my eyelids and dragging me out of whatever half-sleep I managed to fall into sometime around four in the morning.I open my eyes and immediately want to close them again.The curtains are open.All of them.Sunlight is pouring into the room, hitting every surface, making everything too bright and too clear and too much.I reach for the remote on my nightstand, the one that controls the automatic curtains, and press the button harder than I need to. The curtains start to close, smooth and silent, blocking out the light inch by inch until the room is dim again.Better.I drop the remote back on the table and stare at the ceiling, trying to remember if I opened those curtains last night.I didn’t.I never do.Which means someone else did.Someone came into my room while I was sleeping and opened the c

His Rules

KaiI’m sitting by the window in my studio, staring out at nothing in particular, when I see her.She’s standing on the lawn near the driveway with her phone pressed to her ear, pacing back and forth in these small tight circles like she can’t stand still.I can’t hear what she’s saying from up here, can’t make out the words, but I can see her body language well enough to know it’s not a good conversation.She stops pacing and brings her free hand up to her face, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her palm.She’s crying.Or trying not to.Her shoulders curve inward and she turns away from the house like she doesn’t want anyone to see, like she’s trying to hold herself together and barely managing it.I watch for another few seconds, watch the way she keeps wiping at her face even though it’s clearly not helping.Then I turn away from the window.I don’t want to see this.Don’t want to know why she’s upset or who’s on the other end of that phone making her fall apart in the middle of

The Fight

CassieI wake up before sunrise, get dressed in the dark, and make my way downstairs to the kitchen where Mrs Rosalind has already left ingredients prepped for his breakfast. Eggs, toast, coffee. His morning medications lined up in the small organizer she showed me how to use.By seven, I’m standing outside his door with the tray balanced carefully in both hands.I knock twice, wait five seconds, then open the door without waiting for an answer.The room is dark, curtains pulled tight like he’s trying to keep the entire world out. I can barely make out his shape in the bed, just the outline of him under the covers, completely still.I set the tray down on the table by the window as quietly as I can, then walk over to the control panel on the wall and press the button.The curtains slide open with that smooth automated hum, letting pale gray morning light spill into the room.“Good morning, Mr Petrova,” I say without looking at him. “Breakfast is on the table. Your medications are next

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