She drew the food into her lap. Chicken breast and vegetables, smothered in gravy. She scooped some into her mouth. It was cold, but she was so ravenous that it still tasted like the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten.

“What time is it?” she asked between mouthfuls.

“Near four in the afternoon.”

Her heart dropped. Margot lowered the fork, her palms turning clammy. “That’s late.”

Kant ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He seemed unfazed by the hour. “The more sleep you get, the better you’ll do tonight.” He paused, then added, “If we are lucky, the curse might have already waned.”

That was a thin hope, and they both knew it. Margot understood, with complete certainty, that Gallows Hill wasn’t done with her.

She looked down at the plate of food. Her stomach had revolted, turning into a nest of knots, but Margot still forced herself to eat what was there. She remembered how her energy had drained from her the night before, leaving her limbs weak and her mind scattered. Kant was right. She needed to shore up her strength while she had the chance.

“Fetched some things from the house for you,” Kant said, drawing them out from beneath the bench. “Your room’s light was out, so I changed that too.”

He placed her shoes—the ones she’d last seen the previous night—on the floor beside her, and her phone and jacket on the end of the bench. Margot picked up her phone. The screen was shattered into a spiderweb of white lines. To her surprise, it still lit up at her touch.

“We’ll get you another of those,” Kant said. “Andrew will put it as a business expense.”

She managed to smile. Even just a month ago, the cost of a broken phone would have felt like a hurdle to overcome. Now, it barely registered.

Death can put anything into perspective.

She pulled the coat on to cover the blouse’s torn sleeve and the smatters of dried blood. The coat’s arm was wide, but the cast still barely fit.

Finally, Kant held up a large white square of fabric. It could have been a handkerchief, except it was wildly oversized. Margot frowned slightly. “What…”

“For the cast,” he said, and she felt a rush of gratitude.

Margot stood while he helped her tie the sling around her shoulder. It immobilized her arm further, but at least it took the weight off. Kant stepped back, checking the knot wasn’t biting into her, then nodded. “When you’re ready,” he said.

She glanced about the small room. There wasn’t much for her there—but it had given her a chance to sleep without fear of being disturbed. That was a luxury on Gallows Hill. She took up the bottle of pain tablets and slipped it and her phone into her jacket pocket, then turned back to Kant. “Ready.”