Unfashionably Dead

Chapter Forty-six

A light penetrates the veil and, unable to tolerate its brightness, I squint. With a quick lift of my arm, the ray is blocked and comfort is within my reach.

"I know you're there," a voice says from the other side of the yellow. I try to place the high pitch. When she adds, "About damn time," I know without a doubt that it is Margaret. "Come on! It's been three months."

That jolts me awake. I tear the layers of veil off one by one and see that I'm right outside John's door.

"What's the date?" I ask.

But Margaret does not answer. Her chin is practically on the floor and her eyes nearly pop from their sockets as she takes in my presence.

Apparently the damage was even worse than I thought. I suck in a deep breath then ask, "Is it that bad?"

A confused look crosses her face and she corrects with a shake of her head and an "Oh, no, not at all."

I don't believe her, but at least I'm moving...and I feel halfway decent. I ask her for the date again.

"It's my birthday, March 30." She smiles and flips her hair. A brown spiral falls in front of her eyes and she smooths it behind her ear. "Jose's throwing me a party later. That man....Just wow."

I smile back at her. "So the two of you are together?"

"Since Valentine's Day, and it's been absolutely wonderful." Her attention nervously flicks away. "I thought for the longest time, though, that he was smitten with you."

Why would she think that? I say as much.

She takes a deep breath. "He kept asking about you, wondering if I'd seen you. I mean, it's not like I had a reason to be jealous, or at least I didn't, but every day, it was, "Have you heard from Cheline? Do you know anything else? Blah, blah, blah.' I guess a friend told him that you disappeared right around here and that it might be awhile before you came back. So why did you leave?"

I lift my arms in a stretch. "I fought some reapers and nearly lost. The cocoon probably saved me."

Alejandro and his flavor of the week walk through us. Margaret harrumphs. "Let's chat in my apartment."

I follow her inside, but clearly the apartment is no longer hers. The plants are gone, as is all her furniture. The apartment is bare. She sits in the living room, exactly where her couch was.

"So what's happened in these three months?"

She motions for me to take a seat. "Oliver's wife got arrested for involvement in his murder."

"Wow! That's good news. Where are the kids?"

"Jose says they went to live with Oliver's sister."

I give a satisfied smile. Good for John on keeping that promise. "Anything else?"

She takes a deep breath. "Tony's still in jail, awaiting his trial. It begins in July. He's pleading guilty to my murder, but I guess he's fighting tooth and nail against the charge for your murder."

How could he possibly fight that? "Omigosh. We both heard him confess to it, but I suppose my murder is easier to fight." And it doesn't matter as much to the people in charge. It saddens me that her life is deemed more valuable purely for her family's wealth. It doesn't seem fair that some lives matter more than others, but it isn't Margaret's fault that our society works this way. I sigh.

"Daddy's trying to keep your murder tacked on, but there doesn't seem to be enough evidence to support the charge. If anyone can find it, Daddy will."