One of the other witnesses, the very one I’d argued with not long ago, now lay crumpled like a broken doll. At first, it looked like he was wearing a strangely bright red shirt, but I quickly realized I was wrong.
The shirt had been white at one point but was now dyed crimson with blood.
I screamed as I jumped out of the bed, nearly hitting my head on the nightstand when my feet tangled in the sheets.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You, uh, you need to put pressure on the wound. That’s what you do when someone is injured, right? You do that, and I’ll go get help.”
I ran for the door but barely made it two steps before Kitt grabbed my arm and stopped me.
“No, stay here,” Kitt ordered as he dragged me deeper inside the cottage.
I clawed at his hand but couldn’t dislodge it. “What are you doing? We need to help him.”
“There’s no point.” Kitt’s voice was sharp and cold as he pulled me into the side room he was using as an office.
Just before he shut the door, I got another look at Thomas lying on the floor. The man’s eyes were open, staring blankly off to the side, while his chest showed no signs of breathing. My arguments died on my tongue, and the door swung shut, blocking Thomas’s image from my sight.
Kitt was right. There was no point helping him now.
Clasping my hands in front of me, I sat on the edge of Kitt’s office chair, as small and quiet as I could make myself.
“Now what?”
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen death. I’d watched other kids like me lose their lives before. Sometimes it was at the hands of the bell ringers, and sometimes it was by their own hands. One would think I’d be used to the idea of death by now, but my earswere ringing, and I could feel the threat of a panic attack clawing at the back of my throat.
To keep myself calm, I started counting my breaths as I watched Kitt pulling out files from his desk.
“Thomas’s injuries were no accident,” he said as he sorted through the files, throwing some aside and placing others in a sturdy metal briefcase. “We need to be careful. I’m not sure what’s happened, but this safe house has clearly been compromised.”
His voice was calm, but his hands shook as he finished packing the briefcase. Gripping the top of the case until his knuckles turned white, he paused for a moment to get himself under control.
At first, it seemed to work. The shaking of his hands stopped, but then he slammed the lid of the briefcase closed with a shout.
“Damn it! I should have known it was too easy.”
With rough motions, he locked the briefcase closed, knocking it against the top of the desk hard enough to dent the wood.
I carefully kept myself contained in my chair and out of the line of fire of his anger.
“What was too easy?”
“A new witness popping up, just like that, after months of investigation? And right as we’re in the final stages of getting our case together? I should have known it was a trap.”
He looked like he was about to slam the briefcase again, but before he could move, I reached out and grabbed his hand.
“We don’t know that’s what happened, and even if it is, are you seriously telling me you would have turned the new witness away?”
I watched the thoughts turning over in his mind, like a computer evaluating every possible probability. It took him a few moments to reach the answer that I already knew.
No, he wouldn’t have turned the new witness away. If there was a chance of helping a victim and bringing criminals to justice, he would take it, no matter the risk. There was nothing wrong with that. Compassion, and the desire to help people, was a human instinct. The fact that the bell ringers were willing to exploit that desire just proved how monstrous they really were.
Kitt stepped away from the desk, turning his back to me. After sucking in a deep breath, he finally managed to calm down. His hands no longer shook as he ran them through his hair, pushing it out of his face. We didn’t have the time or supplies for him to put his hair entirely back into its usual perfect style, but at least he looked neater and a little more himself when he finally turned back to face me.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he refastened the open buttons on his shirt. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just... angry. But we need to focus on keeping you safe first. Come on. We can’t stay here, but we don’t know what’s out there. So, stick with me.”
He pressed the briefcase into my hands, carefully wrapping my fingers around the handle. “This briefcase holds everything we need to keep the bell ringers’ case alive. Hold onto it, whatever you do. And if I tell you to run, you run. Understand?”
I nodded at him mutely, clutching the cold metal case to my chest.
