Chapter 6
Mrs. McTavet's sobs were the only sound echoing through the hallway for what felt like an agonizing eternity. I couldn't take my eyes off that outstretched hand.
It wasn't like she was reaching towards me for help. It was like, even broken and bloody; she wanted me to admire her rock.
Sometimes I hate the thoughts that run through my own head.
Then I heard a stomping noise and looked up to see Mr. McTavet racing down the stairs at what seemed an unwise speed, reeling and stumbling and barely catching himself on the banister.
"John!" he cried. "John, help me!"
I looked around to see who John was. The butler, perhaps? But the butler was leaning against the doorway that led to the foyer, a shaking hand pressed over his eyes, not reacting to Mr. McTavet's cries.
"Let me throug
