Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune
Author’s NoteThis story explores life and love as well as loss and grief.There are discussions of death in different forms—quiet, unexpected, and death bysuicide.Please read with care.
CHAPTER1Patricia was crying.Wallace Price hated it when people cried.Little tears, big tears, full-on body-wracking sobs, it didn’t matter. Tearswere pointless, and she was only delaying the inevitable.“How did you know?” she said, her cheeks wet as she reached for theKleenex box on his desk. She didn’t see him grimacing. It was probably forthe best.“How could I not?” he said. He folded his hands on his oak desk, hisArper Aston chair squeaking as he settled in for what he was sure was goingto be a case of unfortunate histrionics, all while trying to keep fromgrimacing at the stench of bleach and Windex. One of the night staff musthave spilled something in his office, the scent thick and cloying. He made amental note to send out a memo to remind everyone that he had a sensitivenose, and that he shouldn’t be expected to work in such conditions. It waspositively barbaric.The shades on the windows to his office were pulled shut against theafternoon sun, the air-conditioning blasting harshly, keeping him alert. Threeyears ago, someone had asked if they could move the dial up to seventydegrees. He’d laughed. Warmth led to laziness. When one was cold, one keptmoving.Outside his office, the firm moved like a well-oiled machine, busy andself-sufficient without the need for significant input, exactly as Wallace liked.He wouldn’t have made it as far as he had if he’d had to micromanage everyemployee. Of course, he still kept a watchful eye, those in his employknowing they needed to be working as if their lives depended on it. Theirclients were the most important people on earth. When he said jump, he
- Page 3 and 4: Begin ReadingTable of ContentsAbout
- Page 5: For Eric.I hope you woke up in a st
- Page 9 and 10: “Kyle was laid off two months ago
- Page 11 and 12: “Kyle won’t touch me,” she wh
- Page 13 and 14: dollars, and that doesn’t even be
- Page 15 and 16: He never got the chance.Instead, tw
- Page 17 and 18: Mostly.She wasn’t crying. He was
- Page 19 and 20: you died, you continued to wear the
- Page 21 and 22: Persian rug he’d spent an exorbit
- Page 23 and 24: to show some kind of emotion. He wo
- Page 25 and 26: He burst out laughing. Yes, he coul
- Page 27 and 28: She grinned. “Oh, man. Just you w
- Page 29 and 30: made it feel like so much more. It
- Page 31 and 32: He said, “I…” He didn’t kno
- Page 33 and 34: She wiped her eyes, still chuckling
- Page 35 and 36: “Oh. Yeah, no. I get it. Yes, thi
- Page 37 and 38: He blinked slowly, becoming aware o
- Page 39 and 40: They rounded a corner, and he could
- Page 41 and 42: He stared at her. “We’re seeing
- Page 43 and 44: CHAPTER4He expected the inside of t
- Page 45 and 46: The second time you share tea, you
- Page 47 and 48: was … calming? Or so close to it
- Page 49 and 50: know I don’t have time for this.
- Page 51 and 52: “And there’s … what?”Hugo d
- Page 53 and 54: questions. I’ll do my best to ans
- Page 55 and 56: “I’m dead,” Wallace said.Hugo
Author’s Note
This story explores life and love as well as loss and grief.
There are discussions of death in different forms—quiet, unexpected, and death by
suicide.
Please read with care.
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