All the World (9 page)

              Lexie hesitated for a moment. Truthfully, she was exhausted and needed more rest. “I’m ready to leave.”

              The doctor approached the bed, pulling off his stethoscope. “Let’s see what your body thinks.”

              Lexie allowed herself to be poked, prodded, and examined for ten minutes before the doctor announced that she was fit to go. He instructed her to get rest and take it easy for a couple of days. Before he left, the doctor wrote Lexie a prescription for a painkiller.

              “Well, I bet you’re ready to get out of here!” Nurse Mandy said brightly as she entered the room. “The man who visited you said you wanted your clothes, so here you go.”

              The nurse held out Lexie’s shirt and jeans. The shirt wasn’t the soft shade of yellow it had once been. The mixture of blood and mud had changed it to a nasty puke color. Smears of muck covered her jeans, making them look like they belonged to a farmer.

              The nurse helped Lexie get dressed.

              “Thank you,” murmured Lexie as she adjusted her shirt. It was damp and uncomfortable. 

              “Oh, no problem! Here’s your purse. The EMTs got it from your car. The police just finished checking it over, so it’s all yours,” answered the nurse. “You take it easy. I’ll go get your friend.”

              Pierre entered moments later. He carefully gripped Lexie’s arm, helping her through the door, down the hall, and into an elevator. Lexie read the hospital floor directory posted in the elevator. The psych ward was on the fifth floor, and Lexie hit the button before Pierre could even lift his hand to do so. A wave of dizziness washed over her when the elevator started moving. She grabbed the handrail and held on as tightly as she could. Nothing pleased Lexie more than when the elevator finally opened, admitting them to the psych ward.

              “She’s on the adjacent hall,” Pierre whispered gloomily. “The poor girl was in a frightful condition when I last saw her.”

              “Oh, woe is me, to have seen what I have seen, see what I see!” Flora’s voice screeched through the ward.

              Lexie glanced once at a pale Pierre before taking off in the direction of the shout. Lexie found her friend just as a nurse was giving Flora an injection. Tears and sweat streaked Flora’s pallid face, and the dark circles beneath her eyes gave her a hollow and haunted appearance. Red marks and purple bruises covered her neck like cheap necklaces.

              “What are you doing?” demanded Lexie in a trembling voice as she watched the nurse adjust the soft straps binding Flora’s wrists to the bed.

              The nurse looked up with a grim expression. “I just gave her a sedative, and I need to fix her bindings.”

              “Why does she need a sedative and bindings?” When the nurse didn’t answer, Lexie continued, “I brought her to the hospital myself. She’s my best friend! The last time I saw her she was singing about flowers. Tell me what happened!”

              “Did you hear her last scream?” asked the nurse sharply. “A visit from a young man upset her, and she has been shouting like that ever since he left. Clearly, there was a confrontation that left Flora in a dangerous state of mind. She was thrashing around, trying to choke herself with IVs, and hitting her head against the bed.”

              Lexie pursed her lips. “When did this young man leave?”

              “About fifteen minutes ago,” replied the nurse. “He said something about going to the chapel. I certainly hope he doesn’t return and set her off again. It took three of us to bind her wrists. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to check on the patient in the next room.”

              Lexie tried to smile with gratitude, but she was certain her features were marred with disgust. Nickolas had stooped to the deepest depth of low.

              Pierre saw Lexie’s expression as she marched from the room. He reached to touch her arm, but Lexie pulled away.

              “Nickolas was here! This is his fault!” snarled Lexie, her eyes glassed over with tears.

              Pierre’s mournful face was stricken, and he blocked Lexie’s path. “Lexie, Nickolas isn’t in his right mind.”

              “Is he ever!”

              Lexie pushed by Pierre, yanking the sling off her left arm. She was going to find Nickolas Lindegaard. Her last nerve had been as taut as a rope, and it had finally snapped, leaving its edges frayed with fury. Nothing Pierre said could stop her.

              “I’ve been considering Nickolas’s behavior, and he is Hamlet,” Pierre tried to explain as he followed Lexie. “Hamlet is a capricious character. He—”

              “Nickolas has been like this for ages! His behavior has nothing to do with your missing key!”

              Pierre’s sputtering was silenced.

              The hospital chapel was on the first floor, tucked away between the lobby and grief rooms. Lexie pushed through the chapel door.

She scanned the dim room until her eyes found Nickolas standing before a table at the front of the chapel. His focus seemed to be on the cross sitting on the table.

              “To be or not to be, that is the question,” Nickolas’s voice was weary and lost. “Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles.”

              Lexie hesitated for a mere second before striding up to Nickolas. Her hands collided with Nickolas’s shoulders as she pushed him forward against the table. The ornate cross tumbled to the floor with a deafening crash. Nickolas struggled to turn around, and Lexie slapped him hard across the face.

              “What the hell is wrong with you?” Lexie screamed, ignoring the sharp pain in her left arm and shoulder.

              Nickolas’s eyes were wide. “I—”

              “Something tells me you aren’t praying for Flora’s recovery! What did you say to her? What did you do to make the nurse sedate her?”

              Nickolas gripped the table for support. “I must be cruel only to be kind.”

              “What nonsense is that!” shouted Lexie. “You did this to Flora! Don’t even bother denying it! You drove her mad! You’re the reason she’s drugged up on sedatives and completely oblivious to reality!”

              “Perhaps it is for the best, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s insult, the pangs of unrequited love, the law’s delay—”

              Lexie slapped him again. “You speak of love. Do
you
even love Flora? Have you ever loved her?”

              There was a transformation in Nickolas’s face. His skin flushed and his lips trembled. Tears collected in his eyes and clung to his blond lashes. When Nickolas spoke, Lexie was overwhelmed by the emotion in his voice.

              “My love for Flora burns greater than a hundred stars, a thousand comets, a million suns!” declared Nickolas, tears tracing down his cheeks. “No one can love Flora Brookes more than me!”

              Lexie, speechless, felt wetness on her face. She lifted a trembling hand and smeared away the salty tears. She swallowed as a sob escape from her throat.

              The chapel door swung open, and Braedon hurried to meet them. He halted beside his close friend, and his quiet gaze shifted between Nickolas and Lexie. A phone buzzed, and Nickolas pulled one out of his pocket with a shaking hand. Nickolas, tears and emotions still flowing on his face, frowned as he read a text.

              “It’s time. Come with me, Braedon,” Nickolas instructed before fleeing from the chapel.

              Realization donned on Pierre’s face, and he followed Nickolas without any explanation. Braedon turned to follow, but Lexie grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around and look at her. Flecks of gold and ochre glistened in his dark brown irises, and Lexie had never seen so much loyalty and humility in a person’s eyes and face before.

              “Please take care of Nickolas,” Lexie pleaded. Nickolas’s declaration of his love for Flora had softened Lexie’s temper.

              Braedon nodded, gently touched Lexie’s shoulder, and left the chapel.

              “All the world’s a stage,” whispered Lexie as she stared at the chapel door swinging shut. “More like, ‘all the town’s a stage.’”

Chapter Eight: The Star-Crossed Lovers

              Splintering pain shot through Lexie’s arm and shoulder as she leaned against the hospital elevator. Her fury and adrenaline had faded, leaving her exhausted and aching. Everything that Pierre had said seemed even more ridiculous without him there to stare at her with his gloomy eyes. Why was she going along with him? Did she really believe that Shakespeare had created a curse? What was happening to her? Maybe she belonged in the psych ward next to Flora.

              Since Lexie had no idea where Pierre, Nickolas, and Braedon had gone and the only way to get back to Vernon Hills was by taxi, she decided to pay Flora another visit. It was the least she could do after her confrontation with Nickolas. Maybe Flora’s madness would end once she realized Nickolas truly loved her. His profession had changed Lexie’s mind about him. Certainly, it could improve Flora’s condition. 

              The elevator halted on the third floor. Lexie inhaled deeply in an attempt to quell the queasiness the elevator’s sudden stop had produced. She closed her eyes, but frantic clambering caused her to open them.

Theodore Rose, doe-like eyes wide and fearful, was repeatedly hitting the first floor button.

              “Well, hello to you too,” Lexie said.

              Theodore nodded at her once as his fingers clawed through his hair. “Oh, I am fortune’s fool!”

              Lexie thought back to the car wreck. Mark Cue’s final words echoed in her mind like a twisted mantra. “I’m sorry about your friend.” Theodore didn’t respond, so Lexie continued, “You know, the nurses are gossiping that one of Mark’s friends put the sheriff in the hospital.”

              Theodore finally met her eyes. “I put him here, but I cannot bring myself to kill him. Cato is Giulia’s kin, and now mine as well.”

              “So you guys got married,” Lexie said, suppressing a smirk as she thought about the absurd scene that had taken place in her apartment. “Congratulations.”

              “Do you think I have ruined our new marriage by putting a relative in the hospital?” Theodore’s voice was quiet and stained with distress. “Does Giulia think me as deadly as the bullet that killed my friend?”

              “He’s in a coma, not dead,” replied Lexie. “You aren’t a murderer, and I’m sure Giulia still loves you. I think she loves you more than her cousin. She defied her family to be with you.”

              Theodore gave her a watery smile. “How well my comfort is revived by your words!”

              As Lexie watched Theodore, she realized the seriousness of the curse. Lexie wasn’t completely ignorant to William Shakespeare’s works. She had read some of the plays in school, and her best friend was obsessed with his work. Because of Flora, Lexie could actually quote some of Shakespeare’s lines. Lexie knew many of his plays ended in tragedy, and she was currently talking to a kid channeling the spirit of one of Shakespeare’s most famous tragic characters.

             
Theodore will die just like Romeo if this isn’t stopped
! Lexie shivered at the thought.
Maybe if Theodore and Giulia are reunited neither will commit suicide.

              “Listen, I need to get back to Vernon Hills and you need to see Giulia, but I don’t have a car. I’m guessing that you probably drove here, so could we ride back together?” asked Lexie. She wasn’t too fond of letting a lovesick teenager drive her around, but she didn’t have many options.

              “Benny, my cousin, dropped me off.”

              “Okay, we can share a taxi. It shouldn’t be too expensive if we split the cost. Come on,” Lexie ordered.

***

              Taxis weren’t cheap, and Lexie severely regretted locking her keys in her car as she handed the driver his payment. Theodore had remained silent the entire trip, tapping his foot and chewing at his fingernails. Lexie had periodically checked her phone for messages from Pierre, Nickolas, or Braedon.

              As soon as they got into the taxi, Theodore had requested that they be dropped off at Friar Court Church located at the junction of Friar Court and John Avenue. The small church looked like a miniature Gothic cathedral with its cross-topped steeple, lancet windows, and flying buttresses. A mausoleum with angel statues was attached to the back. However, the bright orange traffic cones with the word “funeral” written in black destroyed the church’s majestic air.

              “Do you live near here?” asked Lexie as she looked around the neighborhood. The angular bay-and-gable houses were bathed in red and vermillion from the sinking sun.

              “No,” Theodore answered, “but I have a good friend who is a priest. It’s probably best that I stay away from home. I’ll be arrested if the police find me.”

              Lexie crossed her arms and sighed. She felt bad for the scared kid. He was so confused and conflicted. “I really don’t think the charges against you will be too severe. You can plead self-defense, and the sheriff did kill Mark Cue. He’s more in the wrong than you. Though, I would suggest staying off the streets since the cops will be more supportive of Cato. Do you have any relatives or friends that don’t live in Vernon Hills? You could hang out with them for a bit.”

              “Leave Vernon Hills like a banished man?” Theodore asked in a pain-filled voice.

              “That’s rather dramatic. You’d just be laying low and riding out the storm until Vernon Hills returns to normal,” replied Lexie, “but called it banishment if that’s how you see it.”

              “Banishment,” Theodore gave a harsh, bitter laugh. “Be merciful and say ‘death,’ for separation from Giulia is a fate far worse than death.”

              Lexie covered her face and exhaled into her palm.
Romeo is friends with a priest in the play.
“Okay. Listen. Go see your friend. I’ll go get Giulia.”
              Lexie waited until Theodore trudged into the church before walking off. She was so lost in her thoughts that she walked right into Mrs. Terrace. The woman was dressed in black and her shaking hands clutched a bouquet of lilies. Mr. Terrace was a few steps behind her, his face streaked with tears. Lexie watched as the somber couple walked toward the church. She suddenly wondered if Cato had died. It wasn’t impossible. The sheriff had been in terrible condition when Lexie was discharged from the hospital.

              A melancholy hearse with dark windows and silver trim rolled to a halt before the church’s main entrance. Lexie chewed at her bottom lip. The last thing Theodore needed to see was a funeral. It might give him ideas. As Lexie watched the funeral procession enter the church, she was unexpectedly reminded of a dark line from Shakespeare’s
Romeo and Juliet.
She was surprised at how much theatre information she had picked up from Flora.

              Lexie whispered the words, “‘A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life—’”

              The rest of the words stuck to her throat. The Terraces weren’t crying for Cato. This was their daughter’s funeral. The hearse was waiting for Giulia’s coffin. She was dead! She had already committed suicide! Then Lexie remembered that Theodore was in the church.

             
If he sees her…
Lexie couldn’t even finish the thought. She joined the throng of mourners, her mind desperately searching for a way to remedy the situation with Theodore and Giulia.

But Juliet dies after Romeo in the play. She drinks a potion to make it look like she is dead. Romeo kills himself because he thinks she is dead, and then Juliet commits suicide.
The details were all coming back.

              “She’ll be buried alive if I don’t stop the funeral,” Lexie muttered to herself. “How am I supposed to do that? I’m really going to kill Pierre when this is over!”

              Lexie, doing her best to ignore the pain in her arm and shoulder, entered the church foyer with some of the stragglers. She couldn’t just run in and announce that Giulia wasn’t dead and that everything was happening because of a curse by William Shakespeare. No one would believe her. Lexie was positive everyone would think she was crazy. Though, Lexie was questioning her own sanity. There was also the problem of getting Giulia out of the church without being seen. The ideal situation would be to get Giulia to the apartment and have Theodore watch over her. They would be safe together.

             
I need everyone to leave the church.
The guests wouldn’t leave on their own. Lexie needed to force them out. What would cause an immediate evacuation of a building? What would give Lexie enough time to get Giulia out of the coffin?
Maybe Theodore’s friend can help.

              The foyer of Friar Court Church was plain compared to its Gothic exterior. The white tile floor was tinted blue, green, and red from the stained glass windows. Bulletins and pamphlets about the funeral service were neatly arranged on tables flanking the walls. A narrow staircase was located on the left side of the foyer. The whirl of several overhead fans reminded Lexie of the ebb and flow of the ocean, and the sound contrasted sharply with the sniffles and sobs of the guests. Lexie could see that nearly half of the sanctuary was full. Her eyes traveled up the aisle to the dais where a sleek coffin made from cherry wood rested. She was surprised that no clergymen were present.

              She glanced down at last Sunday’s bulletin, and the name Priest Lawrence Fryer immediately caught her attention. It was so familiar. Lexie stared at the cream-colored paper, willing it to give her answers. Where had she heard the priest’s name?

              “Oh, Giulia, my dear, sweet wife, death has not yet ruined your beauty.”

Lexie looked at the staircase when she heard Theodore’s broken, muffled voice. The teenager was sitting on one of the top steps, knees drawn against his chest and arms clamped tightly around his legs. His blond hair was disheveled, and Lexie suspected he had been trying to rip it out in grief. She made sure no one was watching her before walking up to Theodore.

“I am very sorry for what you have seen,” began Lexie, “but it’s all a trick. Giulia isn’t dead, and we need to get her out of here.”

Theodore glared through his tears. “Don’t mock me—”

“I’m not mocking you!” she snapped. “I don’t have time to explain everything to you now, but the point is Giulia is
not dead
! Where is your friend?”

“Lawrence was with the Terraces when we got here. One of the other priests, Father Jon, let me see my wife before everyone arrived in the sanctuary. Father Jon said he needed to tell me something, but one of the altar boys came in saying that the Terraces wanted to talk to him,” replied Theodore with confused brown eyes. “So, he told the boy to let me see Giulia.”

Lexie pulled Theodore to his feet. “Maybe your friend is in his office now. I didn’t see any priests in the sanctuary. Let’s go see him.”

“But Giulia—”

“We can’t help her unless your friend helps us.”

Theodore nodded and started climbing the stairs. “Lawrence’s office is on the second floor, but he won’t have much time to help since he’s presiding over the funeral.”

That’s where I heard the name!

“Is Lawrence the priest who married you and Giulia?”

“Yes, it was Lawrence Fryer.”

The office was located on the balcony. Lexie peered over the ledge as they walked and got her first look at Giulia. The girl was dressed in a simple wine-colored dress with capped sleeves and a black belt. Her hair fell in loose ringlets around her face, and a bouquet of purple irises were in her hands. She looked so calm and innocent, two traits that she lacked when awake.

The door to the priest’s office was closed, but Theodore had no problem throwing it open and startling the balding man. With deep-set hazel eyes and hollow cheeks, he looked to be in his early fifties.

“You shouldn’t be here, Theo,” warned Lawrence in a paternal voice as he straightened his white vestments. “The entire Terrace family is in the sanctuary. If they find you—”

“Father Jon said you needed to tell me something. What is it?” Theodore asked.

“Giulia isn’t dead, and we need to get her out of the church without being seen,” Lexie explained swiftly. “Then Theodore and Giulia can hide out in my apartment. The café will be empty because of the funeral.”

Lawrence raised his bushy eyebrows. “Where did you hear that?”

“It doesn’t matter, but I can promise you that no one else knows,” Lexie answered. “Can we get her out of the church?”

“Giulia is alive,” confirmed the priest.

Theodore dropped the candle stubs he was fiddling with. His eyes brightened, his face flooded with color, and the tension in his shoulders faded. He looked more like a lovesick boy than a mourning widower. Lexie couldn’t help but smile. So, the tragic story of
Romeo and Juliet
would have a brighter ending in Vernon Hills than on stage.

“Can you stall the funeral or move everyone out of the sanctuary?” Lexie asked Lawrence. “Theodore, I think you should wait outside where you won’t be seen. Maybe I can get her out of the coffin and to a back room.”

Lawrence pushed several bottles of liquid incense out of his way, leaned against a table, and shook his head. “It’s an open casket. People will notice if she is gone. I agree that Theodore needs to avoid being seen. Theo, go wait behind the church dumpsters.”