He appeared uncertain how to take my words. "That was our secret, cousin," he said with a look over his shoulder.
I really hate this guy. The images of the woman he killed, albeit accidentally, were forefront in his mind. What real-Josie was doing there, I didn't know, but she was young and too frightened of her older cousin to speak out. "And I will keep it for you, as I promised long ago."
Philip was looking at me anew.
"Let's not fight," I told him. "My father is ill, and I am not well myself, if you hadn't heard."
"I had," he confirmed. He regained his composure quickly. "I see evidence of your madness in your speech."
Dick. My gaze strayed towards the market at the edge of town.
"Not there," he said, following my look. He sneered. "Not with the savages." The memory in his head made me freeze in place: an Indian girl, little over ten, who worked in his household. The sight of her screaming and bloodied while he held her to the ground …
It was the worst of all the images in his head. Not that him raping his servants was acceptable, but the fact he relished hurting the little girl … I tried to push it away, to stop the images from coming.
A stab of pain went through my head once more in response, followed by tunnel vision and the sense of floating. It took a moment for me to ground myself and pull my mind out of the abyss to become aware of my physical body once more.
"My cousin has not yet recovered from her ordeal," I heard him saying. "Your concern is greatly appreciated."
I blinked away the sunspots to see him standing in front of me. I was slumped against Nell, seated on the raised sidewalk, surrounded by a crowd of anxious men kept at bay by Philip.
"Sorry," I managed. "Just … need a moment." And to ask how to turn the chip off. Knowing the dark secrets of everyone around me would quickly become a curse, especially since I wasn't here long enough to right the wrongs I uncovered.
Nell's memories were agitating me as I tried to recover. Philip and the others were too far away, but Nell was running through every time in real-Josie's life when she'd fallen, sprained something or otherwise gotten hurt. It was definitely not helpful to have the distressed images of a little girl crying in my mind right now.
"Give her some peace, gentlemen," the gruff, low voice of the sheriff directed those around me. I sensed him approach without looking up, not too excited to have drawn his attention. "Miss Josephine, you can rest in my office." It wasn't a request.