"Fitch-SarahAtTheTidePool" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fitch Marina)

Sarah shrugged helplessly. "He . . . loved to go for walks in the evening after
the UV levels dropped. He was careful about stuff like that, a health nut. And
he loved Waterford crystal."

Celeste nodded, resubmerging her right arm which had risen above the surface of
the fluid. "He liked Waterford crystal," she said.

"Yes, the way it sparkled. And he liked reading . . . . " Sarah stared into her
hands. But what had Richard read? Had she ever asked, ever bothered to find out?
Sarah sank to the floor next to Celeste's chair, her legs tucked under her. What
had Richard liked? Which sports, which foods? Well, broccoli, but when they went
to dinner what sort of dishes did he order? Sarah began to tremble. She knew
about his research, about his experiments in molecular assemblers, but what was
his favorite dessert? His favorite flower? She buried her face in her hands.
What was his favorite color?

Her hands filled with tears. "God, oh God."

Celeste's left arm wound awkwardly around her, pulled her close. "He really hurt
you, the bastard. And now he's trying to discredit your research by making it
obsolete. Fucking bastard."

Sarah tried to protest, but the words dissolved beneath the weight of her tears.
Celeste rocked her, stroking her hair. "Hey," Celeste crooned. "We'll fix him,
Sarah. We'll fix him."

Sarah screamed around her fist.

And thought about Richard, and who he was. Thought about those two things all
week long, wandering through the house late at night, touching the few books
Richard left behind, laying out the jewelry he'd bought her, the delicate wire
rings and earrings, the thin gold chain with the three diamonds and the gold
star. She played the albums he'd forgotten. And she waited for Sunday so that
she could tell Celeste about Richard.

"He likes Chopin and old nineties metal and --" The words died on Sarah's lips
as Jason walked through the lab door behind Celeste. Sarah's hands knotted, then
fell open in surprise. Celeste strode into the room, dressed in an old black
leotard and pink tights. Her hair, once so red, was a pale, sun-kissed blonde.
In the past month and a half, her hips and waist had thickened, her bottom
ballooned. She was Richard's dream woman come to life.

Sarah's shoulders folded inward. Her chest felt as though it would crack with
the pressure. Jealousy weighted the edge. As soon as Richard met Celeste, as
soon as -- The image of Celeste and Richard entwined, tangled in fresh white
sheets burned through her. Sarah's hands clenched and unclenched.

"What do you think?" Celeste said, spinning.

"Perfect, isn't she?" Jason said. "With bait like this, we should have no