All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(66)

Though we were panting and red-faced, we got home in less than ten minutes. The exertion had quelled my anxiety, too.

‘Take the stairs?’ Leo joked.

‘Good one, Leo,’ I said, pushing the elevator button.

In contrast to the mild day outside, it was unusually cold inside the apartment. A draught was coming from the living room, so I went to close the windows. In the living room, I found Imogen seated on the sofa and the disquiet I had felt earlier immediately returned.

‘Something’s wrong,’ I said.

Imogen shook her head. ‘Where are Natty and Leo?’

‘In their rooms,’ I told her.

‘Sit down,’ she said, and I knew this instruction could only mean one thing.

‘I’d rather stand,’ I insisted. ‘If you’re going to tell me Nana is dead, I’d rather stand.’

‘She died last night. There was a power failure, and the backup generator didn’t work for whatever reason. By the time the power came back on, it was too late. I’m sure she didn’t suffer much.’

‘How do you know?’ I asked.

‘How do I know what?’ Imogen replied.

‘That she didn’t suffer much! How can you possibly know?’

Imogen said nothing.

‘You don’t know! Maybe it was horrible! While you slept, maybe she choked and gasped and her skin felt like fire and she thought her eyes would pop out of her head and she prayed for it all to be over . . .’

Imogen reached out to put her hand on my arm. ‘Please, Annie, don’t do this.’

‘Don’t touch me!’ I pulled my arm away. I could feel my old rage returning. I slipped into it easily, like a tailored suit. ‘Your whole job was to make sure that those machines kept running! You’ve failed miserably! You’re a failure and an idiot and a murderer!’

‘No, Annie. Never,’ Imogen protested.

Leo came into the room. ‘Annie, why are you yelling at Imogen?’ he asked.

But I couldn’t be bothered to address my brother. I was in that angry fugue state. ‘Maybe someone paid you to unplug Nana’s machine?’

Imogen began to cry. ‘Annie, why would I ever do that?’

‘How should I know? People will do all sorts of things for money. And my family has many enemies.’

‘How can you say these things to me? I loved Galina just as I love you and your entire family. It was her time. She told me as much. I know she told you, too. Or at least, she tried to.’

‘Nana’s dead?’ Leo asked in a panicked voice. ‘Are you saying that Nana is dead?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She died last night. Imogen let her die.’

‘That isn’t true,’ Imogen replied.

‘Get out of our house,’ I ordered her. ‘And don’t ever come back.’

‘Please, Anya. Let me help. You have to make arrangements for the body. You shouldn’t have to do this alone,’ Imogen pleaded.

‘Just get out,’ I said.

She stood there, but didn’t move.

‘Leave already!’

Imogen nodded. ‘Her body is still in her bed,’ she said before she finally left.

Leo was sobbing quietly, and I went up to him. I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t cry, Leo.’

‘I’m crying because I’m sad. Not because I’m weak or stupid.’

‘Of course you are. I’m sorry.’

Leo continued to cry, and I said nothing. In point of fact, I felt nothing except the embers of my rage mixed with anxiety over what my next steps should be. At some point, Leo began speaking again but I was so distracted that I had to ask him to repeat what he’d said. He had wanted to know if I’d meant everything I’d said to Imogen.

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I meant. I’m going in to look at Nana. Do you want to come?’

Leo shook his head.

I opened the door to Nana’s room. Nana’s eyes were closed and her gnarled hands were laid peacefully across her chest. I assumed Imogen had done that.

‘Oh, Nana.’ I took a deep breath and kissed her wrinkled cheek.

I became aware of the sound of whispering. Nana and I weren’t alone. Natty was kneeling by the window at the side of the bed, her head bowed in prayer.

Natty raised her head. ‘I just came in to tell her about the wedding . . . And . . . She’s dead.’ Her voice was small and childish, still barely above a whisper.

‘I know.’

‘It’s like my dream,’ Natty said.

‘No one’s turned to sand that I can see,’ I said.

‘Don’t make fun,’ Natty admonished me. ‘I’m serious.’

‘I’m not making fun. We all died in your dream, didn’t we? And in reality, Nana is the only one who’s dead. You knew this would happen some day. I told you as much last night.’ And in that moment, I began to realize just how ridiculous and wrong the things I’d said to Imogen had been. I regretted my behaviour and I wondered why my first response to anything was rage. Sadness, worry, fear – all of those emotions came out as rage for me. Maybe if I’d been braver in that moment, I would have cried.

‘Yes, I knew she would die,’ Natty admitted, ‘but part of me never really believed it.’