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HONORA RUSHED THROUGH the hospital corridors with the bottom of her dress in her hands. Her heels clicked across the tiles as she swerved her way through the nurses sparing her concerned glances. She merely smiled at them before ducking into the morgue where Jack was waiting impatiently.
He looked up as she closed the door with her foot. He raised a brow, his lips slightly curving up in amusement. She looked at him, letting out a breath, before placing the bottle she'd told him to wait for beside the dead body.
Jack picked it up and examined it, his face falling. "You told me to wait here . . . for fifteen minutes. . . for a bottle? What even is this?"
Honora grinned as her fingers tapped along the side of the dirty wooden table, leaning closer. "Carbolic acid."
Jack sighed, lifting his sight from the bottle to the excited girl. "Carbolic acid, really? If you wanted me to go to the sewers with you, you should've just asked. But, as much as I like talking to you, the answer's no."
Honora closed her eyes, calming her racing mind. "Jack, no. That's not what I'm saying." She rounded the table, standing beside him. He was far too entranced by her presence to notice what she was uncovering beneath the sheet. "Look. Jack." She snapped in front of his face.
"Sorry," he murmured, blinking, before looking down. He furrowed his brows. Half the stitched wound - the stitched, infected wound - was clear of disease. He peered closer.
"See. That was where the cloth with carbolic acid was. This is . . . this is it."
Jack looked up, wiping his hands on the clean cloth beside the counter. She watched him, eyes wide with hope. His body drowned in sorrow.
"Rue." He placed his hands on her shoulders, ducking lower to meet her eye. She let herself relax beneath his touch. "You're talking about using the treatment for sewage waste as a cure. I'm sorry, love. I want to trust you, I do, but you've got to understand how absurd this sounds."
