Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said. Her voice was weak and flat. ” “Delusion!” he muttered, glaring at her. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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