People say so much.
I watched the purple haze retreat across the ceiling, a quiet reminder that our fragile bliss couldn't last. We were both in danger. Sooner or later, Santana and her accomplices would discover the truth about Gabrielle. Yet of all the grim scenarios I had imagined, none came close to what awaited us.
Sleep evaded me, even with Gabrielle's warm, naked body pressed against mine and her soft purring in my ear. At the first hint of dawn, I slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen.
I was preparing breakfast when a soft tap sounded at the window. I drew back the curtain and saw Tom, the local police officer. I motioned for him to come in.
Tom was a good man — one of the few. He took his duties seriously and treated everyone with respect, even oddities like me. If I had any friend in this town, it was him.
He stepped inside, hat in hand. "Good morning, Nicolas. You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep. What brings you here, Tom?"
He looked uncomfortable. "This is rather ridiculous, and I apologise in advance. You know that feeling when someone else embarrasses you by association? That's me right now. Santana — the lawyer's wife who recently lost her stepdaughter — is spreading some vile rumours about you. She's clearly unhinged, but you know how quickly gossip spreads around here. Just be careful. If anyone threatens you, come to me straight away."
"I will. What exactly is she saying?"
Tom sighed. "It's deranged. She claims she saw you dig up Gabrielle's body and that you're keeping it in your house… doing things to it." He shook his head in disgust. "She's psychotic."
I forced a weary smile, pretending the accusation barely touched me. In truth, I had no idea how far Santana was willing to go, but I knew it would be ugly.
The moment Tom left, I woke Gabrielle and told her we needed to hide in my apartment in the city. She resisted at first, but when I explained the rumours Santana was spreading, she agreed. We ate a quick breakfast and left at once.
The streets were still empty, the town half-asleep — the perfect time to slip away unnoticed. We moved quickly, darting between trees and parked cars, clinging to shadows. Every silent doorway, every corner, felt like a threat. By the time we reached my building, my nerves were frayed. Even inside those walls we wouldn't be truly safe, but at least we had four walls and a locked door between us and the world.
I closed the door with a heavy sigh and sank to the floor. Gabrielle sat beside me, resting her head on my shoulder and clutching my arm.
She was terrified Santana would learn she was alive, yet she knew she couldn't hide forever. I promised her she would be safe here while I took care of things outside.
My first task was to speak to Tom. I regretted not confiding in him earlier, but events had spiralled too quickly. I told Gabrielle to wait for me, but when I tried to leave, she blocked the door, eyes brimming with tears. No amount of gentle words would move her.
So, I lifted her into my arms, carried her to the bedroom, and covered her face with kisses, tasting the salt of her tears. Our lips were still tender and swollen from the night before. I pleasured her slowly, massaging her neck and back until her body tensed and shuddered beneath my hands. When she finally begged me to stop, I lay beside her, whispering softly until she drifted into sleep. Only then did I slip away.
I returned first to the sexton's house. In our haste we had left the door unlocked. My suspicion was confirmed the moment I arrived — someone was inside. I hoped it was Tom.
It wasn't.
Santana was rifling through my office like she owned the place. She didn't even flinch when I walked in.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.
"Look who's back," she sneered. "I'm reclaiming what you stole from me. I spoke to Mario. He's a thug, but more trustworthy than a pervert like you. Now tell me — where is it?"
"Where is what? Get out before I call the police."
"Big words for an impotent," she laughed coldly. "Where are you hiding it?"
"What are you talking about?" My patience was wearing dangerously thin.
"Do I need to spell it out, you idiot? The necklace and ring!"
"You think I stole from her grave? You've confused my profession with your own lack of dignity. I dig graves — I don't rob them."
Her face twisted with rage. "I don't care what you do with her body. Fuck it, eat it, burn it — it makes no difference to me. Just give me the necklace!"
For a second I forgot my urge to strangle her and burst out laughing.
"So that's why you tried to seduce me? All of this — the failed grave robbery, tearing my office apart — was for a piece of jewellery?"
Santana glared at me with pure hatred. "You underestimate me, sexton. I promise you'll regret this by the end of the day."
She slipped on dark sunglasses to hide her furious eyes and left without another word.
I cleaned up the mess she had made, then contacted Tom. We arranged to meet later at the sexton's house. Now I had to find the right way to tell my only friend that the dead girl had come back to life.