The drive home passed in a blur. Howard pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor and didn't ease off until he saw the gates of his mansion. All the way, Isabel slumped unconscious in the passenger seat. Her face was pale and her eyes remained shut. Every once in a while she murmured something under her breath. Each time her voice sounded, his heart thudded with terrifying hope.
Be rational, he thought. If she's drugged, she'll be fine. She just needs to sleep it off.
But another part of his mind was filled with dark, wordless worries. Images of her pale corpse flashed in his imagination. He thought of her cold, waxy skin and a horrible fear overtook him. What if she isn't just drugged? What if the dosage was too high? What if? The possible answers were too horrible to imag
