Livingston was asking the maid.“I don’t know,” the maid answered. “I thought I heard something.”There was a small glow in the room from the ...immed lights. The women were standing there by the bedroom door, looking in at Henrietta on her fourposter bed, covered in a sheer, lace canopy. The nineteen-year-old had her eyes closed, her quilt up to her neck.“Hen? Henrietta, dear, are you awake?” Mrs. Livingston asked. When she didn’t get an answer, “She’s asleep,” she decided.“The window?” Marta. I was ok ‘til she opened the window to the terrace. I remembered from before that we were at least two and a half stories up. Swallowing hard, I hung on as Sheila went off the terrace landing on the ground with hardly any shock or impact to me.[Are you injured Doctor Gance?] I heard her ask me in my head.[No, just surprised that you landed as lightly as you did.] I replied still a little stunned.[I calculated the best way to land that would put the least stress on you and your body. We have to. More

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