Kellen
The apartment complex is a rundown building on the south side of the city. It’s brown, with various shades of brown highlights, and the paint is chipping from the walls. Finn whistles as we approach and I stop before we go in through the main entrance.
“I don’t want to hear a word,” I say, staring at him hard.
He grins. “About what?”
“We’re just making sure. You keep saying you want proof, so let’s get proof. That’s all we’re here for.”
“If you’re right, I’ll apologize and never whistle in your presence again. But if I’m right, I’m whistling all the way home.”
“I swear I’m going to cut your tongue out.”
“I’ll invent a new way to whistle then. You can’t stop the joy, Kellen.”
“Watch me.” I shove in through the front and stomp up the sticky staircase with Finn on my back. The sounds of crying babies and overloud televisions and shouting from somewhere further along the hallway reminds me of how many people live packed into a place like this. I wonder what Eunika’s life was like outside of the Hayle manor—and consider that maybe she had a good reason to help someone poison my mother.
Assuming she was a part of the plot.
We reach her apartment and knock. I wait a moment, knock again, and finally the door opens a crack. Eunika’s eye peers out at me, and the door slams shut, but I manage to ram it open before she can slam a bolt down.
“Bad start,” I say as she stumbles back and runs into the living room. I draw my gun and follow. I find her standing in a tiny kitchen with a big chef’s knife clutched in both hands, the tip wobbling from side to side as her hands shake, her jaw clenched with stress.
“I don’t want trouble,” she says.
Finn comes in behind me, also armed. He looks around and goes through the place, clearing the rooms. I stand still, gun aimed at Eunika, and she stares back at me.
She’s wearing civilian clothes, which is strange. Gray pants and a long-sleeve white blouse. She looks younger, healthier almost, like being in the Hayle house stole some of her youth.
“Empty,” Finn says.
“I live alone. Nobody is here.” Eunika glares from me to Finn. “What do you want with me?”
“You’re not curious how my mother’s doing? The patient you’ve watched over for years and years?”
She grimaces and the knife slowly sinks. “I hope she’s okay.”
“No, you don’t.” I dart forward, grab her wrist, and twist. She gasps in shock as the knife falls to the floor. I twist again, harder this time, and she groans as I shove her onto a bare simple couch. She sits there, rubbing the joint, glaring.
I sink into a chair. Finn remains standing. I keep my gun trained on her.
“Why are you here? Did you come to beat up on a defenseless woman? I knew what they said about you was true but I didn’t know how far it went.”
“Enough. I have one question and the way you answer will determine whether you live or die. Do you understand?”
She stares at me and I can see the fear in her eyes. I’m used to that look. I’ve seen it dozens of times.
I feel no pity for her.
“Ask,” she says.
“Who paid you to poison my mother?”
She doesn’t speak. Not at first. She looks at her lap then back to me and down again like she can’t decide where to train her gaze. The seconds tick past, and I’m tempted to speak, but I can feel her slowly starting to crack. Her knees bounce and she huddles up tighter into a ball until finally she grunts and glares at me.
“I didn’t give her anything, okay? I want to be clear about that.”
“Eunika.” I raise the pistol.