The Killer Queen by Noella Briony

Chapter 93

These comics were Marcel’s pride and joy! He had to twist Major Garnett’s arm to finally snag them, and now he was hooked right in the thick of the juicy bits!

Marcel had spent a lifetime in uniform, always the picture of stone–faced seriousness, but for these comics, he was practically on his knees, clinging to his granddaughter’s arm, begging.

The moment Calvin heard that Noella was the one dishing out the prescriptions, he zipped his lip, grabbed the meds his granddaughter handed him, and was out like a light all afternoon.

Now, he just swung by to scribble a signature on the prescriptions that Noella whipped up, just going through the motions.

Officially, Calvin was still the head honcho doc, but let’s be real, the power to spring Marcel from the hospital lay in the hands of his darling granddaughter!

“Noella, can’t you leave just one for Grandpa? I’m at the good part, about to hit the motherlode of the plot!”

Seeing Marcel get the same treatment, Sexton was having a field day, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s so great about those ratty comics anyway? You’ve been through a stack of them and still no clue who’s kiddo that is.”

Sexton had flipped through some of Marcel’s comics himself.

“But the next issue is gonna spill the beans, right? Just leave me one!”

Noella picked up a comic, thumbing through it nonchalantly.

“Why’s it in Gerastor?”

Marcel chuckled. “The comic’s called Tandy, a Gerastor artist. I learned Gerastor just for this! Memorizing words at my age, talk about a slog!”

His nightstand was still piled high with dictionaries!

Tandy?

Never heard of this comic artist.

bold colors, a style one wouldn’t see much from local

panel. It showed a heart–shaped orphanage

Tandy Hospital!

was Marcel’s comic

puppy–dog eyes. “Grandpa, I’ll hold

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Chapter 93

He flopped back onto the bed,

this the end for me? Noella, if I kick the bucket, promise you’ll spill the beans on the

a loss for words. Where was that dignified,

jaws would

one issue. “If I find out you’ve been up all night reading. I’m

life, clutching the comic from Noella’s hand, darting

and snapped a bunch of selfies with his precious granddaughter.

show off now. Who’s got no photo

socials, Marcel trotted off,

a mix of exasperation and amusement. Guess the old man still had some pep in his step.

got a screw loose. After you tie the knot

Great–grandkid…

was already counting chickens. Seeing the old man’s bubble

Sexton, I’ll drop by

from under the bed, and slipped it into her hand while Palmer

Palmer looked over, Sexton was back to whispering sweet nothings, playing

I’ve lived a good long life. A pill more or less won’t kill me. Don’t overdo it, promise me.”

nudged the little box