Page 89 of Veil of Silence

He stopped halfway down.

Nora saw the hurt move across his face and hated herself for putting it there. “My wrist,” she added more gently. “Give me a second.”

Dad helped her sit with her back against the wall. The room tilted briefly before settling again.

“Dizzy?” he asked.

“Only for a second.”

“That’s it. We’re going.”

“I sat up too fast after falling down a flight of stairs. Anyone would be dizzy.”

“I’ve always heard nurses make the worst patients.”

“I’m not a patient.”

Dad gave her a look that would have made most people stop arguing. Nora checked her right wrist instead. It had already begun to swell, but she could move her fingers. Nothing looked displaced.

It was probably just a sprain.

Her ribs hurt when she inhaled deeply, but not enough to suggest anything serious. They were most likely bruised.

From the stairs, Christian asked, “What happened? Did you trip or something?”

He came down two more steps, though he still kept his distance. His eyes moved over her face as if searching for something.

“I’m not sure,” she finally told him.

Dad frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I was tired. It was dark.” Nora cradled her wrist against her chest. “I thought I heard something and leaned over the stairs to look. I must have lost my footing.”

She didn’t mention the creak behind her or the shove, not when she couldn’t be certain about either.

Christian came the rest of the way down. “I heard you fall.”

“Is that what woke you?”

His steps slowed. “Yeah.”

Nora studied his face, searching for some small change in his expression. A hesitation. A flicker of fear that didn’t belong.

All she saw was concern.

Dad rose and reached for the lamp beside the couch. More light filled the room, and Nora glanced at the ceiling.

Mom hadn’t come out of her bedroom. The medication she’d taken earlier had worked exactly as intended. For years, she hadn’t been able to sleep without it.

“I’m getting the car keys,” Dad said. “We’re having someone look at that wrist.”

“It’s two in the morning.” The last thing she wanted was for someone to make a fuss over her. She’d be fine.

“Emergency rooms stay open all night. It’s one of their defining features.” The dry tone Dad used to be known for returned to his voice.

“I’m not going to the ER for what’s probably a sprain and maybe bruised ribs.”

“You don’t know that’s all it is.”