Page 25 of On Edge

There. Much better.

There’s a knock on the door as soon as I’m done. I flinch and find myself holding my breath until I hear who it is.

“Miss Lovett?” It’s just Mrs. Oakley.

“Y-yes?” Tension seeps from my bones as I call out to her through the door.

“I know you’re meant to be leaving, but any travel is delayed now until tomorrow. There’s a storm brewing.” When I don’t answer, she adds, “And dinner is in ten minutes.”

She knocks again. “Miss Lovett?”

“Right. Okay, thank you for letting me know.”

I wait until I hear her footsteps fade.

Then I hurry to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, slapping my cheeks to make myself look presentable with no makeup. The makeup I did bring in my vanity was ruined by the rain.

One glance at the clock tells me almost five minutes have passed when I come out of the bathroom a second time, so I suck in a breath, pocket my phone, and leave my room to head to dinner.

One last night.

That’s all I have…one more night, if I don’t use father’s leverage. So, no more crying, then. Now that I’m sure that Severin killed my Nell, I could kill him tonight, and then, somehow, quickly leave.

But how would I do it?

Throw a toaster into his bathtub?

Stab him with a butter knife?

Make him laugh while he’s eating so that he chokes to death?

Oh god, all of those are terrible ways to finish someone off. And none are at all discreet. I’d get caught, for sure. They’d have the police waiting for me when I got off this island.

IfI got off the island, there’s a storm brewing, apparently.

All I can think as I take a seat at the empty table is that I’m the worst murderer in the world.

I eat alone, at first. Only the sound of cutlery scraping against china and rain lashing the windows breaks the silence as I push food around my plate, my appetite nonexistent since this afternoon’s incident in the library. While no one is around, I slip my dinner knife under the table and sit on it. As soon as Severin comes, the first chance I get, I’m going to stab him with it.

That quickly changes when Severin eventually decides to join me, and I grip the warm metal under my thigh and then start shaking.

You couldn’t stab him if your life depended on it,Nell titters.

I hate that she’s always right.

Thankfully, Severin hasn’t looked at me yet. He’s reading a bunch of papers that seem important as he walks in, wearing a pristine suit that looks as though it’s been poured on. His presence exudes power, and I’m aware of how tall he is. I didn’t notice before. The memory of him that first night, towering over me in his bed, comes flooding back.

He’s at least six foot four.

An unchewed portion of food lodges in my throat as I sit there, frozen in my seat, waiting for him to notice little old me.

My throat still aches where he keeps grabbing me, I’m sure of it. My cheeks still flush whenever I think of how he found me earlier, fast asleep, drooling inhissweater…

Even my mouth tingles.

But he doesn’t seem to care. He keeps on reading, like I’m not even there. He doesn’t bother to look over when he takes a seatat the other end of the table, as far away from me as possible. In fact, he doesn’t bother to look up from his work at all.

I may as well be a ghost.