My Marionette Lover novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: The Shears Test

Augusta let us take her, because a girl with a broken wrist was no use at dinner.

Brad was waiting at the gate, and he carried Imogen across the bridge in his arms.

Birdie met us at the Annex door with a ruler, a roll of tape and a face I had never seen on her.

She splinted Imogen's wrist without speaking, binding the ruler to the bone with long strips of white tape.

Imogen woke halfway through and watched her do it.

"You're good at that," she said.

"I do lights. I've broken my own arm twice on ladders."

Arlen sat on the daybed holding Imogen's good hand.

He hadn't let go of it since the bridge.

"Cut it," Imogen said.

I was standing at the workbench with the shears in my palm.

They were so thin that the lamp shone straight through them.

"You just had your wrist broken," I said. "We could wait until you're stronger."

"If I wait, she'll do something worse to be sure of me."

"She'll feel it, Imogen."

"Yes."

"Nan wrote that the old woman feels every cut on her strings."

"I know."

Imogen turned her head and looked at the window.

"I've felt every one of hers for nine years."

"Let her feel one of mine."

I looked at Arlen.

He gave me a short nod.

I looked at the grey thread on Imogen's wrist.

It was the thinnest line I had ever seen, bright as a hair in the lamplight.

It ran from her pulse across the blanket and out under the door.

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