Roxy was deathly ill. She knew her death was approaching fast. Roxy bent down over her mattress, coughing up chunks of blood into the tin pail that Lucas had provided her earlier. Come to think of it, she had not seen him in quite a while. He told her he was leaving to get the witch, but he still was not back yet. The last thing she wanted was to die alone.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Someone was coming, but she knew it was not Lucas. By now, she had learned the way his footsteps sounded as they neared. Nicholas stopped in front of the door, poking his head through the narrow opening.
“Good evening Roxy. You do not look so good.”
“No thanks to you.” She tried to move, but her body had become too weak.
“You should rest. If not, you will die much faster.”
“It is n
