Chapter 6
Jessica returned to the holding cell, heart pounding to the rhythm of her aching head. She needed her vial, and she needed it soon. That stupid detective kept her too long.
The female guard holding her arms in cuffs behind her back muttered, “Can’t believe you killed a fine poet like Professor Trevellian. I hope you rot in hell.” She released Jessica to her cell and slammed the barred door behind her.
Jessica didn’t even try to explain her side of the story. She needed to get to that vial before she passed out.
She dropped to the floor by her cot and shoved her hand into a slit in the mattress. Tiny gray dots filled her vision. “Please, no,” she whispered. Bile coated the back of her throat.
Her fingers brushed cool glass. She almost wept from relief.
She pulled out the vial, cautious not to break it in her desperation to remove it.
Her vision was going in and out now, and sweat dribbled down her temples. She uncapped the vial and slugged its contents. An icy chill swept down her throat. She slid to the floor, waiting for the potion to work its magic, praying she’d taken it in time.
Within moments, her vision cleared. She no longer felt she might throw up. And her head stopped its incessant pounding.
She sat up, squeezed her eyes shut, and recited Robert Burns’ poem, “A Fond Kiss.”
When she opened her eyes again, Roger stood before her, smiling.
“Good job, my “wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,’” he said.
Meet the author of this chapter:
Kimberly Gore Wehner writes middle grade and young adult novels, perhaps because she’s never truly grown up and always has visions of characters running around loose in her head. Like naughty children, they won’t settle down or do what they’re told. You can find her children’s book, The Miss-Adventures of Amy & Tracy: Dr. Von Thistle’s Curious Concoction, on-line, and follow her personal ventures into the past on: www.klgore.com.
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