Shadows Falling: The Lost #2 Read Online Free Page B

skull.”
    Snooping in other people ’s business should probably go against the grain of a lady, but I can’t say I was brought up to be a lady anyhow, and Rose said it herself: boredom makes you do strange things. As interesting as I hope my medical career will be someday, at the moment it’s as dull as watching paint peel, and any divertissements are welcome. Besides, I justify to any objecting thoughts I may have, it’s part of my medical research.
    I find myself nearly merry as I greet Miss Helmes. I ask her cagily enough if she has anything in particular for me to do, or shall I start to begin work in the former doctor ’s office room? Since the former doctor was a bit of a messy hoarder, no one has been especially anxious to begin clearing out his spaces and nooks and crannies, and as I knew she would, she only hesitates a moment before giving me her permission.
    “ There is nothing in there of any interest, Lizzie,” she warns. “You’ll find it dull. Are you sure you won’t stay out here with me and help polish these spoons? The time would be better spent.”
    “ A tantalizing offer, thank you, ma’am, but no. I must be of service to the hospital, and I’m sure some of those papers will be invaluable.” I keep my voice breezy.
    “ I doubt it,” she snaps. Oops, too much breeziness annoys her. “Run along then.” She goes back to her spoon with a vigorous attention to detail.
    “ Oh,” I say as though I had just remembered something. In truth, my pause is rehearsed. I place my hand on the doorframe and do my best to look casual, not that she looking my way anyway. She is peering intently into her spoon. I expect it to spontaneously explode any second now. “Did Mr. Connelly find his missing person?”
    Miss Helmes turns her intense stare towards me now . “I expect he did. Why do you care? Run along.”
    Run I do —partly because of my renewed energy at the prospect of finding out more about Rose, and partly because I have to pass a wing of the hospital that I have always been frightened of. It’s a deserted place now; even when the rooms were all full of patients and they were all free to run about the place, no one ventured this way, so I’m told. They have a haunted feel, a neglected, whispering mood that murmurs of the not so distant past. Tiny medical examining rooms that once were pristine and sterile (well, perhaps not so sterile), the occasional one with just a lone operating table or an overturned chair. A tattered white jacket lies forgotten in a doorway. The air teems with other’s memories that are just beyond my mind’s reach. I know they’re there though, these reminiscences of tragic illness, and they float, unbidden through the tainted, stuffy air. It’s always hotter, darker, and stuffier here; it feels as though there are too many people in one place, in spite of it being only me. The air has weight to it. Weight that could bury you alive if you let it. I cannot imagine being held a prisoner in this place. It makes my skin crawl.
    I am through the hated wing soon enough, and when I enter the old doctor ’s room, I let out the breath I had been holding. His old office is not nearly so bad, though it’s already full of cobwebs and dust. There is nothing left really, besides stacks of papers and an ancient, heavy desk that I don’t blame them for not moving. It must way a ton, even when emptied. Bookshelves are here too, though at least half the shelves are empty. The other half is full of dusty books that are too outdated for anyone to want, and stacks of papers. Though there is a chill in the air in this room, I opt to crack open a window for the cooling breeze and the tie it gives me to the outside world. Though I’d like to hang my head out the window for a bit and gulp in some freshness and admire the view, this isn’t a room I’d fancy turning my back on.
    I begin my search and very quickly find my enthusiasm dwindling. The doctor needed a secretary and badly. His