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“Intimidating how?” I sign, tilting my head. That isn’t the first word that would come to mind when I think of Sullivan. I’ve seen Holland Alistair on a telephone conference once.Thatman is grumpy personified.
Richard Sullivan is definitely more ‘carefree, easy-going heir’ than ‘terrifying billionaire dictator’.
She blushes again. “He’s a little too handsome.”
I snicker. Hands moving more delicately now, I sign, “Thank you. That cheered me up.”
Movement in a window on the fourth floor grabs my attention. Henry must be freaking out after seeing me climb out of a limo. Or more likely he’s been freaking out all day. I’ve kept him in the dark about the entire Richard Sullivan situation.
“See you later,” I sign to Jenny.
“Remember to inform Mr. Sullivan of the change of plans.”
I don’t want to report my every move to him, but I also don’t want to get Jenny in trouble. She’s a sweet person and I enjoyed having her as one of my interpreters today.
Henry’s waiting at the door before I’ve fully entered the hallway. His eyes look bloodshot, his hair is a mess and his skin is almost translucent.
“Dude, your eyes. Did someone punch you?”
“Are you being sued?”
“Answer the question.”
“You first.”
“No, I wasn’t sued.” I grab his head to pull him closer. Upon inspection, I realize the ‘bruises’ are dark circles. Has he even slept?
Henry pushes me away. “What happened last night? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? What did the cops say?” His body language is janky, urgent. His eyes dart from side to side.
“Let’s talk inside.”
He inhales a big breath, blows it out between lips that look like they’ve been in a freezer and shuffles behind me into the dingy apartment.
It’s only a few steps to the living room. I can see the kitchen from here. The counter is stacked with medication. There’s a giant calendar on the fridge, marking all the pills his grandmother needs to take.
To my right is a short hallway.
I keep my eyes there when I sign, “How is she?”
“The same.”
I walk past him and peek into the first bedroom. Henry’s grandmother is lying in a cot, her hands folded and her body still. The peaceful motion of her chest is the only indication that she’s alive. There’s a home IV drip standing next to her bed and a makeshift heart monitor that Henry bought from a shady dealer he met under a bridge. I’m pretty sure that device was stolen.
Beside her hand is a giant button that she can press to vibrate Henry’s smartwatch. It’s how they communicate.
“She looks good,” I sign with an encouraging smile.
His Adam’s apple bobs.
I gesture for us to leave and he follows me to the living room. Since I know my way around his apartment, I head to the fridge and pour myself a glass of water. Even though I didn’t use my voice today, my throat is still itchy.
Henry stops in front of me. He looks at the ground.
I wave so he’s looking at me before signing, “You okay?”
“I feel so stupid. How could I have gotten the wrong car?” His eyes flash angrily. “There was only one type of car like that in the parking lot. Lexi’s ex bought that keychain just to show off and I fell for it.”
I’m not going to argue with him there.