The Waiting by Hunter Shea Read Free Book Online Page A

interloper by the collar and demand to know why he was in his house.  
    When he turned to see where the boy was running to, he was gone.  
    Brian felt his legs give way, and he slowly inched downward until he was sitting on the bedroom threshold.  
    What’s happening to me? He bit the soft flesh of his palm to keep from screaming.  
    Who the hell is that boy? Why do I keep seeing him?
    He stayed there the rest of the night, in the space between the hall and the bedroom, watching, waiting, worrying.  
    Real or imagined, he vowed to keep the two incidents to himself. No one could know.  
    No one.  

Chapter Thirteen
    Alice waited in her room until she heard Brian close the door and his car pull out of the driveway. His mood had taken an even darker, more secretive tone over the past few days. Her attempts at bringing him into a conversation were met with grunts or monosyllabic replies. Since moving the TV into the bedroom, he was rarely in any other part of the house, other than the kitchen to eat and the bathroom.  
    That he was playing all of Cassie’s favorite films each night helped relieve some of her worry. He doesn’t need to talk to me, or even be polite. He has to be with Cassie and help get her through this.  
    Despite their efforts and the attention of Louisa and the doctors, Cassandra was getting worse. Her waking moments were happening less and less. Alice’s dreams were plagued by thoughts of the morning when they had connected as Cassie’s way of saying goodbye.  
    Alice worried constantly about her daughter, but it wasn’t until recently that she considered there might come a day when she would lose her. When she had first arrived at the house, she could feel the hope that crackled in the air. Like all energy, it had come and gone, morphing into something new, in some place new.  
    Now the house felt cold and expectant. Her negative thoughts weren’t helping the situation. All of Cassie’s pain and their worry were building a cocoon of despair. Somehow, they had to find a way to break free of it.  
    Well, today she would try her best to dispel the negativity.  
    Cassie was going to come out of it. Things always get worse before they get better.  
    She knew Brian never left the house without making sure all of Cassie’s machines were pumping and draining away. That meant there was time for a shower before heading downstairs. Better to start clean and new.  
    When she was done, she wrapped a towel around her hair, put on a nice shirt and jeans and walked down the noisy stairs.  
    “Good boy,” she said when she saw the half-full coffee pot on the warmer. He made it a little weak for her taste, but beggars can’t be choosers.  
    Alice had bought a handful of gossip magazines at the bookstore. She wanted to make today a silly girl day, even if Cassandra couldn’t laugh or groan along with her. Then maybe she’d take a cue from Brian and pop in a movie and watch it with her.  
    As she walked out of the kitchen, she said, “Cassie, honey, you’re never going to believe who Brad Pitt is fooling around with.”
    The mug slipped from her hand, bathing the floor and her feet with piping hot coffee. If there was pain, her mind was too stunned to register it.  
    A small boy sat at the end of Cassandra’s bed. One knee was bent and most of that leg was on the comforter. The other was locked straight, his foot flat on the floor. He looked at Cassie with beautiful, shining eyes and a round face with skin as flawless and smooth as fresh cream.  
    He didn’t look away, despite the crashing of the coffee mug and her sharp gasp of surprise.  
    The sun filtered through the window. It bathed him in a diffusion of soft, yellow light.  
    Alice’s heart raced and her hands began to tremble. She found it hard to keep her grip on the tabloids.  
    The boy moved with surprising grace, shifting off the bed and seeming to glide to the head of Cassandra’s bed. He bent forward, and Alice lost sight of