Eight weeks had come and gone faster than I could've anticipated. Pretty soon, Salem, my brand new private physician, gave me the go ahead to get to work as all my stitches had completely healed and things were looking normal again.
I was still about fifteen pounds underweight, bearing splotchy skin and a resemblance that was eerily close to that of a scarecrow, but at least I was slowly getting to where I needed to be, one bite at a time.
It was a huge adjustment that took several hearty attempts from my part, considering Zhian had done everything in his power to keep me from chewing anything tangible.
Finally, though, it was time to get into the action of things once again, and after my recovery for the last two months where I had nothing to do but think things through and analyse my trauma, I knew exactly where to start.
"I need a dead body."
Dominico blinked at me with his brows pinched together at the centre. "What?"
"I need a corpse."
