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Of all of us, he confided most in me. We’d always been close, but since my return to the company five months earlier, we’d become closer still. We spent more time with each other than ever before. We worked together, we laughed a lot. I felt comfortable in his presence, and he in mine; it was clear to both of us, I think, that we found greater peace and pleasure in each other than in anyone else. That was the good news.
The skull rolled its eyes at us. “Thank goodness you’re here. He’s been like a plump whirlwind. And there was a most distressing glimpse of pink flesh when he bent down to pick up a paper clip. I’d have feared for my life if I wasn’t already dead.”
She preferred living under stars and bridges, with water lapping at her Wellingtons, in an isolated and amphibious life. None of that applied now. She was here in our moment of crisis.
This was how you looked death in the eye and defied it. Lockwood had fought his way up here to save me, past all the ghosts downstairs, and he had arrived at the perfect moment. I understood all that as I sat against the wall, bloodied and defenseless, and I loved him for it. My heart sang.
