I’m working hard on the new book–which may be titled GHOST or THE TWIN or something I haven’t even thought of yet–and thought that for today and tomorrow, I’ll give you a tiny sample.
First, the first chapter:
The night was made for murder.
She waits until his breaths come deeply and evenly; waits until he snores in a regular rhythm. Then she slips out of bed and moves to the window, raising the blind so a wave of silver moonlight floods the room.
She won’t risk waking him by turning on the lamp. Moonlight suits her purposes; it has always suited her nature.
She creeps into the bathroom and pulls the basket with his sharps and bottles from beneath the sink. These she transfers to the nightstand, then she lifts a syringe and presses the thin needle into the neck of a bottle.
He took his insulin before bedtime, a dose guaranteed to stabilize his variable blood chemistry throughout the night. This second injection will stabilize him forever.
She measures out fifty units of regular insulin and drops the bottle back into its basket. The gentle chink of glass against glass does not rouse him. The man sleeps like a log, particularly on nights when he is so full of himself that he can’t resist berating his wife.
Idiot. White trash. Slut.
Never again will those words pass his lips. Never again will she wear long sleeves on hot summer days.
Never again will his fist slam into her belly.
She lowers herself to the mattress, lifts the syringe in her left hand, and gently tugs on the covers with her right. His snoring halts, then erupts in an explosion of breath. His body has sensed the abrupt change in temperature and his hand fumbles at his pajama top, searching for the comforter.
When he stops moving, she slides the thin needle into the pale flesh of his abdomen and presses the plunger. The instrument of death makes no sound, nor does its bite make him flinch. The needle has nipped his skin many times.
Like a mother tucking in a beloved child, she covers him again and stands as he slumbers on, oblivious to his fate.
She returns the basket of supplies to the bathroom vanity and tosses the syringe into the trash. Then she crawls back into bed and closes her eyes, willing herself to sleep.
That’s it for today! 🙂