Shadows Falling: The Lost #2 by Melyssa Williams

takes to not reach out and throttle me. “Everybody else does.”
    “ Mr. Connelly says she’s here, or that she’ll be back, or something along those lines! He’s rather cryptic.” I frown, trying to remember just what he had said.
    “ Mr. Connelly says a lot of things,” she retorts, sharply.  “Now, are we done here? I’ve patients who actually want my help in their wretched little lives.” She crosses her arms with such fervency that I’m surprised I don’t hear her elbows snap. Of course, she has the cushioning of her colossal chest to soften the blow.
    “ Yes, ma’am.”
    It ’s only later that I realize I didn’t mention my worry that Rose could be holing up in the old hospital, and she never really told me anything about Rose being released. She didn’t really tell me anything at all.
    ********************
    “And so you want to go to the library? On a harebrained scheme? To find Rose? What is she to you?” Mr. Connelly speaks out of the side of his mouth, through his cigarette. He removes it lazily and blows smoke in my direction, in more ways than one, it seems sometimes.
    I wave my hand in front of my face and cough , annoyed. “I thought you said that stuff would kill you.”
    “ We’ll all die of something, my little one. Didn’t you know?”
    “ Don’t call me that.” I feel insulted, or patronized. I’m not sure which is worse. “Aren’t you concerned for her?”
    “ My questions first.”
    I sigh and try to remember them. “Yes, it isn’t harebrained. Yes, I don’t know. But if she’s wandering around, that might be somewhere she’d like to go in her freedom.” I’m still loath to admit our other option is the original Bedlam. I’m in no hurry to go back there, and besides, if she isn’t locked in, why in the world would she stay? I certainly wouldn’t.
    “ Fair enough.” The corners of his lips turn up around the cigarette. “And you expect help, is that it?”
    “ I expect a ride. I can’t exactly walk to Oxford, and I hate trains. I don’t know why you aren’t more anxious to find her.”
    “ And I don’t know why you are.”
    “ Fair enough,” I echo. “We’ll agree to be mystified by one another. I’ll have to ask Miss Helmes for some time away.”
    “ Leave Miss Helmes to me. Shall we leave now?” He removes his hat long enough to run his fingers through his light colored hair, then puts it back on, a bit crooked. I fight the impulse to straighten it and cross my arms in a hurry.
    “ Now? Right this moment now?” I am taken aback.
    “ Why not? I am a wealthy, idle, young man. I have nothing else to do besides play bridge, woo women, drink gin, and gamble.”
    I ignore that. “You don’t think we’ll find her there, do you?” I ask, curiously.
    “ No.” There is something like sadness in his eyes as he answers. “But I suppose I would like to walk in the steps she did, so long ago. It’d be nice to have something to do until she comes back.”
    “ How long ago? Her steps, I mean.” I falter a bit, but I don’t know why. Something about my question unsettles me, and I am almost afraid to hear the answer.
    “ Lifetimes, little one. Lifetimes ago.”
    I ’m getting a bit weary of the cryptic comments.
    ********************
    Mr. Connelly’s car’s passenger seat is the most luxurious thing I’ve ever sat upon, and that includes Mina’s grandmother’s embroidered Windsor chair.
    “ It purrs like a kitten, but is sleek like a lion!” I exclaim, without even thinking.
    Mr. Connelly throws back his head and laughs. “Oh, you do remind me of someone I used to know!” He tosses the butt of his cigarette out the window of the car. “Girls and cars,” he chuckles. “Some things never change.”
    I ignore him and indulge myself with a daydream of being a fine lady, and him my muscular, eager to please chauffeur.
    “ What’s it called?” I ask, dreamily.
    “ A Rolls-Royce Phantom.”
    “ It must be the most lovely car in the