While Gerald waited for Sasha to make progress on his task, he felt as though he were sweating bullets, cold ones, icy as popsicles. His worry for Dave gnawed at him, and fear of how their Young Miss would react weighed heavily on him. This was the first time he had ever heard her so silent.
Even when she had been wheelchair-bound or cornered in Parish, she had always kept giving them instructions, relentless and commanding. But now… she was cold, distant, and unyielding, and even through the phone, Gerald felt her presence pressing down on him. It was as if he had been suddenly locked in a freezing cellar, slowly turning into a block of ice.
Although Gerald wanted to urge Sasha to hurry, he couldn't speak. First, he didn't want to disturb him. Second, it felt as if an invisible hand were pressing against his throat, silencing him completely. He could only remain still and quiet.
