Read Online Fallen Beauty by Erika Robuck - Free Book Online

the curtain closed as if I thought I could keep the tragedy away, as if I could end the act in the terrible play we were living.
    Daniel called to us through the door. “Laura, Marie, please, let me in.”
    Marie and I embraced each other and she buried her head in my shoulder. I used my free hand to let Daniel in.
    “He’s gone,” I said, inspiring even greater sobs in Marie, but somehow in control of my own emotions.
    Daniel nodded, his face dark and pained.
    Nausea roared up so quickly, I barely had time to push Marie off my chest, and run to the bathroom. Daniel followed and placed his hand on my back. When I stood, I rinsed out my mouth in the sink and turned to face him. He looked terrible.
    “When did he go?” I asked.
    “I found him this morning during my rounds.”
    “So he died . . .”
    “In his sleep,” said Daniel. “Peacefully, by the look of him.”
    I could hear the blood pumping in my ears and felt so overcome by fatigue that I nearly collapsed. Daniel held me up and led me to the couch, where he helped me to recline. Marie stood, then paced around the room.
    “What will we do?” she whispered. “Whatever will we do?”
    “He was just saying he wished he’d died,” I said, more to myself than anyone.
    Marie gasped. “He wanted this.”
    Daniel couldn’t seem to find any words.
    “But I don’t see how he died so quickly,” I said. “Was it his lungs? Were they infected?”
    “It is likely,” said Daniel. “Once you’ve dressed and had some time to yourselves, I’ll need at least one of you to come to the hospital for paperwork and to see him, if you’d like.”
    I nodded, but I could not meet anyone’s eyes.
    “I can’t,” said Marie. “I never want to go to that place again.” She broke into fresh sobs and came to me. My sister’s grief compounded my own, and I cried with her, pulling her into my shoulder and rubbing her hair. She clung to me the way she had after our mother had died. It was the closest I’d felt to her in weeks.
    “I’m so sorry for you both. If there’s anything . . .” His voice trailed off. I looked at him and thought he might break down himself, but he cleared his throat and stood taller.
    “Thank you,” said Marie, lifting her face, and wiping her tears with the back of her arm. “Thank you for coming. That was very kind of you.”
    He nodded and started out the door. As he passed us, he laid his hands on our shoulders, and then left.
    Marie and I held each other for a long while. Our breakfast grew cold, and the shadows on the floor moved with the passing time. My parents’ wedding picture stared stiffly out at us, offering no solace. People walked by, glancing in our dark shop with the sign showing we were closed long into business hours, and they must have known through whispers and deduction.
    I was seized with an urge to lay eyes on my father, and helped Marie up to bed so I could go. I brushed her hair off her forehead as if she were my daughter. She pulled the covers up to her chin, and shivered.
    “What will we do?” she said. “The books, the deliveries, the orders. Who will take care of us?”
    “We will take care of us, each other.”
    I left it unsaid that Everette would take care of her, and I would be alone, but not alone.
    Marie had doubt all over her face, but she nodded, and turned on her side. I waited until she fell asleep before summoning the strength to go to the hospital.
    My walk through town under the pitying glances of the people I’d always known, with the secret I now carried, followed by seeing my father’s lifeless body, was a miserable affair. Nurse Miller gave me a hug on her way out of the room. I clung to her a little longer than she must have expected, but I felt so alone that I needed to. She finally pulled away and turned from me, no doubt so I wouldn’t see her cry.
    On the way home, I sought comfort in the familiar streets and faces of my youth, but the wind had picked up, and the sky