Evette struggled against Lohr when he told her it was time to go. He leveled his gun at her head, but that didn’t make her behave because he was going to kill her anyway. A quick death was better than what he had in store, but she suspected he wanted a body that wasn’t marred by a bullet. He had other plans for its defacement.
Her struggle didn’t gain her much time. Perhaps an extra five minutes of life. Lohr added more ropes around her already-bound body, pulled the gag tighter, and threw her over his shoulder. Sometimes she hated being so small.
The ride in a horse-drawn carriage—the same carriage she’d taken with Claire to restaurants and plays—felt long. And it felt like riding in a hearse. Terror and resignation competed inside her. She was going to die just when it seemed like everything in her life was finally perfect. She had a good friend in Claire, a good man in Julian, and peace—finally, peace. Or so she had thought.
When they arrived, Lohr picked her up again. He grunted under her weight after a few meters, which made her wish she weighed three times as much. Mr. Donovan went ahead of them, probably to ensure they were alone. He carried with him a bucket, a paintbrush, a knife, and a hatchet.
Mr. Donovan’s voice came back in a whisper. “Here’s a good spot. Close but hidden until we’re ready.”
A few seconds later, Lohr dumped her on the ground among some bushes. She didn’t think the drop broke any bones, but it was the kind of fall that left bruises. Lohr pulled her left arm from the tangle of ropes. She did her best to pull it back toward her body, but he quickly overpowered her.
“I’m sorry, Mademoiselle Touny,” Mr. Donovan said. “I always liked you. And Claire—poor Claire will lose her best friend and her intended all in the same night.” Her gag prevented her from asking what he meant, but he continued as if sensing her question. “Major Flynn will provide tomorrow night’s body.” He nodded at Lohr. “I’ll keep lookout.”
What wicked men, she thought as Lohr forced her to her knees and held her wrist over the pail. With no hesitation, he sliced his knife into her skin. The pain was sharp, and her body immediately reacted. The panic was enough for her to free her arm from Lohr’s grip, but he caught it again within seconds.
As the blood drained from her wrist, she began to lose her peripheral vision. It was dark anyway, but now all was gray, and then black. Evette collapsed to the hard ground, thinking at least she wouldn’t be aware of whatever came next.