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Below her window, angry working men shouted at a police constable, demanding better patrols through the area, and frightened women huddled in doorways, clutching shawls about their shoulders and crying while they talked endlessly of the madman stalking these streets. Je
And she couldn't go home to deliver her baby, either, might never be able to go home. That was something else she'd been ru
None of them might ever be able to go home again, not Je
Je
Je
Noah set the lunch tray on the table at Je
"Hey," Noah hunkered down beside her, grey eyes revealing a surprising depth of concern, "what's this? I won't let anyone hurt you, kid. Surely you know that?"
Je
"Sure you are, kid," Noah said quietly. "And you've got every right to be. But look at this another way, Je
Je
"And we will."
"Noah..." She bit her lip, half afraid to broach the subject they'd all been avoiding.
"What?" the detective asked gently.
"When you go back up time with that evidence? I want you to do me a favor, will you?" The bitterness in her voice would have shocked her, once, long ago, at least a week previously, before her father had destroyed her entire world. "Don't put a bullet between my father's eyes for me."
Noah's grey eyes showed surprise.
She grated out harshly, "I want to do it, myself."
The lunch Noah had brought, forgotten on the table at her elbow, slowly cooled while Noah gathered her in and let her cry. One day, she didn't yet know how, she would make her father pay. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.
to be continued in:
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT