His Silence - Chapter 67

‘Oliver please, I’m sorry.’

Abraham grapples for the side of my bed. Oliver breathes heavily; his fists are still raised in the air. Abraham flicks his gaze to me, before flicking his gaze back to Oliver towering over him. Blood is spurting from Abraham’s nose and onto the carpet now. I feel the urge to go to the bathroom and get him some tissue, but stop myself. He was going to kill me.

‘What the fuck did you think you were doing?’ Oliver shouts at him, fists clenched.

I flinch. Since I’ve been here, I’ve never heard Oliver swear. It doesn’t sound natural; it’s like hearing your parents swear for the first time.

‘I just . . . I just lost control,’ Abraham says, tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘I was so upset, I couldn’t help myself. This whole business with Noah and the police, it’s all because of her. She’s going to spoil everything, can’t you see?’ 

‘You were going to kill her,’ Oliver says, spittle flying out of his mouth, landing on Abraham’s cheek

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .’

‘You knew what you were doing,’ Oliver says, a growl in his voice. No, he’s going to hit him again. He turns to me, placing both of his hands on my shoulders. I want to move back, leave the room. Run as far as I can. Across the marsh if I have to. Oliver stares at me with kind eyes. ‘Grace, I know this won’t be easy, but please go back to the house, I’ll deal with him, don’t worry.’ He’s trying his best to keep his voice soft. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Abraham eyeing the door. He’ll be weighing up his options, wondering if he can take this opportunity and run, but I’m sure if he tries to, Oliver will pounce on him within seconds. He won’t make it to the door.

I don’t say anything. Gasping for breath, I dart out of my room and into the hallway. Abraham wanted to kill me. He wanted to kill me. I knew he didn’t like me, that had been obvious since day one, but I never thought he would try anything this drastic. Had someone else here convinced him to take this course of action? Does someone else want me dead? I think of Mary, Eve, Abigail, they always seem so nice. What are they hiding?

I pelt to the house, kicking at the gravel, furiously wiping my tears. People are going to asks questions. They’re going to want to know what’s happened.

I burst into the kitchen. Callum’s at the sink. He stares at me with wild, confused eyes. Without giving him a chance to speak, I fling my arms around him and sob into his shoulders.