Touching Eternity (Touch Series 1.5) by Airicka Phoenix Page A

shortly as if the very idea was ludicrous. “I assured them her case was nothing more than a small child acting out for attention. But then she threw the family cat out of the third story window I suggested they bring her in for examination.”
     
    “What does she say happened?”
     
    Garrison chuckled, smacked Isaiah on the shoulder. “She’s a liar, son. You can’t believe what she says. Now come along. There is still much to see.”
     
    Isaiah lingered a moment longer and watched as a tear slipped from those blue eyes and struck the cold metal.
     
    ***
    He’d been warned not to disturb her after her treatment. It was the one big rule. He’d been there six months and he never really knew what kind of treatments Amalie was given, only that Garrison would take her into the white room and close the door. Sometimes, there would be others in the room, men with somber faces and white jackets. But usually it was just Garrison. No one would go in or come out for an hour. Sometimes, he would press his ear to the door, but there was always silence. Sometimes, the door would open and Garrison would come out, Amalie an unconscious heap on the cart. Other times, she would be held up by the arms, her head lolling, her legs bands of rubber, tripping over themselves.
     
    She never came out the way she went in.
     
    At first, he thought Garrison was hurting her the way some of the father’s back home hurt their daughters. No one ever talked about it, but everyone knew what was happening. Several times, his anger made him want to punch Garrison in the face, grab Amalie and run. But Garrison promised him he wasn’t hurting her. He promised that he was a doctor and doctors helped people. He promised that everything he did was helping Amalie get better, albeit, Isaiah was never told what was wrong with her, only that she was sick.
     
    But this time was different. This time, Amalie’s normally pale face was caked with blood. The front of her gown was splattered with the stuff. There was blood oozing from her ears, her nose, her mouth and she was pale, so much pallor than she ever was and she was jerking, twitching even though her eyes were closed.
     
    “ She’ll be fine,” Garrison promised as he rolled Amalie away to her room.
     
    Isaiah didn’t believe him. People didn’t bleed unless they were hurt by someone. He didn’t trust Garrison. People with money were always bad. They looked down on people like him. They lied.
     
    The door slipped open without a sound. Darkness clung heavy to everything, except the tiny figure on the bed.
     
    Quietly, he crept into the room, shut the door behind him. He padded to her bedside, peered into her face.
     
    Someone had changed her, washed away the blood. She was still pale, but she wasn’t twitching.
     
    Tentatively, he brushed the tips of his fingers over her cheek, wincing when her cold flesh touched his. “Girl?”
     
    She didn’t stir, not even the flutter of an eyelash.
     
    “ Hey! Girl!” He poked her shoulder.
     
    She moaned. Her body jerked. “No, Daddy!”
     
    The small, scared voice was nearly enough to convince him Garrison was evil. It was nearly enough to make him want to kill the man in his sleep. Then Amalie opened her eyes.
     
    “ What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, keeping his voice a low hiss.
     
    Even in the dark, there was no mistaking the tears shining bright in her eyes. “Daddy says I’m crazy.”
     
    He wasn’t a stranger to crazy, not even at eight years old. He’d seen plenty of it rotting away in the back alleys of Vancouver.
     
    “ You don’t look crazy.” And she didn’t. She looked…broken. He’d seen plenty of that, too.
     
    “ Daddy says I am.” She looked down. “Like my mom.”
     
    “ Is he fixing you?”
     
    A small shoulder jerked. “I don’t think he can.” She raised her eyes to his, tears now trickling down her temples to soak into the pillow. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
     
    His head rolled to the