The Sanatorium by Sarah Pearse EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Sarah Pearse
- Genre: Psychological Thrillers, Women’s Fiction, Suspense
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 3 MB
The funicular from the valley town of Sierre to Crans-Montana
scores a near-perfect vertical line up the mountainside.
Slicing through snow-covered vineyards and the small towns
of Venthone, Chermignon, Mollens, Randogne, and Bluche, the route,
almost three miles long, takes passengers up the mountain in just
In off-peak season, the funicular is usually half empty. Most people
drive up the mountain or take the bus. But today, with the roads
almost stationary thanks to heavy traffic, it’s full.
Elin Warner stands on the left in the packed carriage, absorbing it
all: the fat flakes of snow collecting on the windows, the slush-covered
floor piled high with bags, the lanky teenagers shoving through the
Her shoulders tense. She’s forgotten how kids that age can be:
selfish, unaware of anyone but themselves.
A sodden sleeve brushes her cheek. She smells damp, cigarettes,
fried food, the musky-citrus tang of cheap aftershave. Then comes a
throaty cough. Laughter.
A group of men are jostling through the doorway, talking loudly,
bulging North Face sports bags on their backs. They are squeezing the
family next to her farther into the carriage. Into her. An arm rubs hers,
beer breath hot against her neck.
Panic pushes through her. Her heart is racing.
Will it ever stop?
It’s been a year since the Hayler case and she’s still thinking about
it, dreaming about it. Waking up in the night, sheets damp with sweat,
the dream vivid in her head: the hand around her throat, damp walls
contracting, closing in on her.
Then salt water; frothing, sloshing over her mouth, her nose . . .
Control it, she tells herself, forcing herself to read the graffiti on the
wall of the funicular.
Don’t let it control you.
Her eyes dance over the scrawled letters weaving up the metal:
Ines & RIC 2016
Following the words up to the window, she startles. Her
reflection . . . it pains her to look at it. She’s thin. Too thin.
It’s as if someone’s hollowed her out, carved the very core of her
away. Her cheekbones are knife sharp, her slanted blue-gray eyes
wider, more pronounced. Even the choppy mess of pale blond hair, the
blur of the scar on her upper lip, doesn’t soften her appearance.
She’s been training nonstop since her mother’s death. Ten-K runs.
Pilates. Weights. Cycling on the coast road between Torquay and
Exeter in the blistering wind and rain.
It’s too much, but she doesn’t know how to stop, even if she should.
It’s all she’s got; the only tactic to chase away what’s inside her head.
Elin turns away. Sweat pricks the back of her neck. Looking at Will,
she tries to concentrate on his face, the familiar shadow of stubble
grazing his chin, the untamable dark blond tufts of his hair. “Will, I’m
His features contract. She can see the blueprint of future wrinkles
in his anxious face; a starburst of lines around his eyes, light creases
running across his forehead.
Elin shakes her head, tears stinging her eyes. “I don’t feel right.”
Will lowers his voice. “About this, or . . .”
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