Miss Morgan and the Gypsy

Twelve: Monisha

There was heavy silence and still Nicu was patient, letting her progress in her own time and momentum. The game was helping in a way. For the most part, Harriet's hands moved mechanically and zoned in on her memory. But at moments where she felt like she was suffocating in the fire all over again her mind would register the game.

It's like he knew she would need that, and Harriet glanced up at him, eyes clashing. He was still in his lose shirt and fitting cravat that was now buttoned, but his sleeves were rolled up, which was unusual attire for dinner. He was so long and sleek, tenacious like a cat sitting in a dark corner waiting for a small movement in the darkness.

"The fire," she said shakily, "it wasn't like any I've ever seen. The flames were so alive and bright to the point it seared my eyes. It burned everything with such swiftness and hunger that I knew..." Harriet's voice became strained and angry as she recalled how it roared and spoke to her with its pops and sizzles. "There would be nothing left in its wake."

Nicu didn't miss any emotion that passed through the lovely creature's face. From what he could see in the small moments of actual humanness, she was truly upset. "These flames were not like those?" He asked pointing to the fire behind them.

Harriet shook her head. "No, Mr.... I mean, Detective Rowe." The game came to an end with Harriet as the victor, but her focus was only on the flames behind Nicu. "They were like a bright white, as white as the sun's rays during midday."

The room grew silent until St. George gave a quipped remark. "You lost Nicu."

Nicu paid no attention to his friend's try at making the atmosphere lighten. "What happened after the fire, Miss Morgan?"

Her dainty fingernails no longer held dirt in them, not even a speck as she pushed the cards away. The skin underneath was lined in a fierce red and raw looking. She had most likely dug into the crevices of her nails for hours to get rid of the remnants of having to bury that girl, Nicu noted.

She cleared her throat. "I got them out and we watched in the east woods as the school burned. Knowing the men would be after us, I started moving right away. After that, we survived in a cave for a little while. Gracie's fever had gotten so high that she was becoming delusional, and it wasn't safe. I also knew that the men could have easily caught us if we didn't find a place to hide."

"How'd you know about the cave?" Nicu asked.

A slight smile lifted at the corner of Harriet's mouth. "That was how I twisted my ankle."

"Which you seem to be walking on just fine." He noted, eyes flicking down at her skirts, making her flush.

Esma was quick to her defense. "It's heavily swollen, Phal, but she refuses to lie down and rest it."

Nicu's gaze locked with Harriet. "You will retire after this. For now," he stood swiftly grabbing a chest hauling it over to her, "rest it on here. You need to elevate it to reduce the swelling."

Harriet blushed as Nicu all to familiarly gently grabbed her foot and took off her shoe. Everything happened so fast as he pushed her skirts up revealing her swollen ankle. Horrified, she squeaked in protest, pushing them down. He gave her a disapproving expression as he pushed the skirts back up and examined her ankle. It had been in great pain and the blood pounded so harshly she thought it would combust.

"Continue, Miss Morgan."

Harriet swallowed and was now finding it hard to continue her story as the man touched her skin with his hot fingers. She swallowed down the rock lodged in her throat and fought with herself about fanning the heat starting to build up in her. She didn't want to give Detective Rowe any indication of what his touch did to her. She took a deep breath and pushed on.