Page 89 of A Poisonous Plot

“How long does he need to stay in hospital?”

“Just until tomorrow.” Lily rubbed at her forehead. “I can’t believe I’m opening the shop while he’s in hospital. He’s helped me so much with getting everything organised. It feels wrong that he’s not here.”

“It’ll be fine.” Seren gave her arm a rub. “I also have good news. Glynis is back home. Apparently it might take a while for her to recover completely, but she’s feeling much better. She said to tell you she’s sorry she can’t make it today.”

“It’s great that’s she’s back home,” Lily said.

Seren nodded. “Now get ready and let’s get the party started.”

Even after the nap, Lily really wasn’t in a party mood.

At least she was thankful to have her friends around her. Hopefully, once she was in the thick of things, she’d be able to relax and enjoy it.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Flynn sleptfor longer than he’d intended. His pounding head protested when he forced himself up in the middle of the afternoon. As he struggled to get dressed, his limbs felt as though they’d been filled with lead. Perching on the bed to catch his breath, he had the overwhelming urge to lie down again. If he did, he’d be asleep within moments and he couldn’t imagine he’d wake again until the following morning. Which meant he absolutely couldn’t lie down.

The door handle clicked and he snapped his gaze to the door. If it was Lily and she’d postponed the opening, he was going to be furious. Or at least mildly annoyed since he wasn’t sure he had the energy for more than that.

Sergeant Proctor looked slightly puzzled. “They said you weren’t up and about yet. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ll survive.”

“Glad to hear it. You gave us a bit of a scare.”

“I’m fine,” he said while his eyelids felt as though someone had tied weights to them.

“The doctor says you’ll need a week off work.”

“I’ll probably only need a couple of days.”

The sergeant stood up straighter. “You’ll take a week, and longer if you need it. No arguing.”

Flynn didn’t have it in him to argue – he barely managed a shrug. He needed to get up, but gravity seemed to be stronger than usual.

Sergeant Proctor cleared his throat. “I thought I should let you know I called your dad last night. Wanted to keep him abreast of the situation.”

“Right,” Flynn said. “Thanks.” If he had any energy he might be put out that he hadn’t had so much as a message from his dad. And he obviously hadn’t bothered to let his mum know he was in hospital or his phone wouldn’t have stopped.

“I don’t know what happened to get you transferred over here,” the sergeant said, making Flynn’s brow wrinkle at the change of subject.

“Really?” Maybe his brain wasn’t functioning properly because he’d have sworn the sergeant knew all about it.

“I heard a version of events,” he said, walking over to the window. “I realise now it might not have been the whole story.”

Flynn managed a quiet, humourless laugh. “Right. Okay.”

“I’d be interested to hear your side of things, if you want to tell it.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been here for almost three months, and now you’re asking me what happened?”

“When I spoke to your dad last night––”

Flynn cut him off. “You spoke to my dad and realised that a guy who doesn’t care that his son is lying in a hospital bed might not be the great guy that everyone thinks he is.” He sucked in a breath. “That’s about the size of it, isn’t it?”

The sergeant only looked at him sympathetically.

“My dad might not be drowning in paternal affection, but he’s also not a liar. Whatever he told you about me was probably the truth.”

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