“No,” I concur. “And they won’t ignore me, either.”
Ernst reaches out to touch me again, but my warning glare dissuades him.
“But next time,” I say, bending my knees, “I won’t be so easy to find.”
I spring up and kick Ernst squarely in the chest. He staggers back, falling on an adjacent grave. He’s awake – barely – but a clout to the head soon rectifies that.
I don’t stop to view the headstone behind him. To look at my parents’ names. To apologise for taking Irene to Germany instead of their funeral. History can’t be changed. I know that better than anyone.
I zigzag between the crosses, obelisks, and crypts, making for the gap in the fence I noticed when I scouted the churchyard. Returning to England to organise Irene’s memorial service was dangerous, but it was something I needed to do. With the past buried, I can move on. Hopefully there’ll be no more memories of what happened at Thera to distract me.
It’s time I stopped thinking about my sister. She’s gone. Plenty of people will want the machines in my blood, and it’s vital I conserve energy. When my enemies come looking for me - and one day they will - I need to be ready.
END OF BOOK TWO
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Edith Clayton and the Wisdom of Athena Page 27