Kyle’s fingers ghosted over my skin as he exerted pressure near the bridge of my nose. When the bleeding began to subside, he scrutinized my face with clinical intensity as he slowly drew the handkerchief back. His hand shifted to examine my arms, lifting and bending them gently as he checked for hidden fractures.
I sighed, unable to convey that the detective should be more concerned about my mental state than my physical one. An overwhelming sense of lethargy was weighing down my muscles in a wave of exhaustion that I had not felt since the early days of my possession of Eleanora. I could already imagine Kyle’s reaction if I told him what I was feeling. The words, “Have you not always been this lethargic?” echoed in my mind as clearly as if he had really said them.
Rather than waste energy conveying my thoughts, I spread my arms out wide as Kyle finished his examination. Instead of the reaction that I had been hoping for, however, he merely stared at me in surprise.
