“It’d be better to kill her quickly before she can cause any trouble.”
“Smart boy.”
The witch’s laugh and Kegan’s footsteps faded down the hall, and Sarah was left in the closet alone. She waited until they ascended the stairs before she stepped out of the closet, still dumbstruck over her encounter.
Kegan had just let her go. And what was more, he covered for her when the witch pressed him for questions. She finally lowered the weapon and leaned against one of the posts for support. It didn’t make any sense, but as Sarah listened to their ascent to the other floor, she realized that whatever window that Kegan had given her to break free was rapidly closing.
If the orb was anywhere in the house, it was in one of two places: Iris’s room or Allister’s room. Since Iris’s room was closest, Sarah sprinted up the stairs to the fourth floor, being mindful of the witch and Kegan, who were just one floor above, and kept the pistol in her hand.
Questions raced through Sarah’s mind on her way to Iris’s room. What would she do if Iris was inside? How would she react to the woman who had orchestrated her near-death experience?
Sarah swallowed, then paused outside of Iris’s room before she slowly opened the door. The hinges gave a light groan, and when the crack in the door widened, Sarah found Iris on the bed, asleep. She entered and left the door cracked open, cautious on her approach.
Iris lay in her nightgown on top of the sheets, her frail body fully exposed. The fire in the fireplace heated the room nicely and also illuminated the age and wrinkles along her exposed arms and legs. Her white hair flowed freely over her pillow, and while she resembled more of a skeleton than anything else, Sarah, for the first time since she’d met the old hag, found her gentle.
The harsh tongue had been silenced, and the scowl had been wiped from her face, though a few of the wrinkles remained in a permanently angered position. But with no make-up, Sarah was finally able to see the face underneath. If they had met under different circumstances, if things had changed…
With Iris asleep, Sarah searched the room, carefully opening drawers and checking beneath the bed and in the closet. But after searching the room as thoroughly as she could, she found nothing save for old clothes and jewelry and cash hidden beneath her socks.
“Sarah.”
She spun at the sound of her name, Iris’s voice so frail it reminded Sarah of the ghosts she’d heard when she first moved in the house. Iris had her eyes cracked open, but she hadn’t moved a muscle beyond her eyelids. Sarah aimed the pistol at Iris. “Scream and I’ll kill you.”
Iris attempted to lift a finger to coax the girl forward, but struggled. “Come here.”
Eventually, Sarah placed one foot in front of the other, moving all the way toward Iris until she was right next to her bed. She kept the pistol aimed right between the old woman’s eyes, who resembled a dying animal on the side of the road. Disgust and sympathy fought for control over her current emotional state.
“The orb,” Iris said, her voice so haggard that it sounded like it hurt to even speak. “You need the orb to stop this.”
“I know,” Sarah said, confused by the sudden change of heart by both Kegan and his grandmother. “Where is it?”
“Fifth floor,” Iris said. “Allister—” She coughed, and it grew into a hacking spat that curled her body forward and then buckled her chest as she tried to regain control.
Iris took a few deep breaths, her lungs rattling with every inhale. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, and her mouth downturned in grief. “I made the wrong choice a long time ago, and I don’t—” She winced as she swallowed, the grimace akin to someone with a sore throat. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
Sarah wanted to tell her that it was okay. She wanted to tell Iris that she would have done anything to have an opportunity to see her parents again when she was a kid. To have them here, and to grow up knowing their love and learning from their wisdom. But she couldn’t even lower the pistol.
“I’ve known people like you my whole life.” The pistol in Sarah’s hand started to shake. “You think that you can do whatever you want because you’re in a position of power. You think that taking advantage of people like me is okay, because there isn’t anything I can do about it.” Sarah hovered closer, her shadow engulfing Iris as she sank deeper into her pillow, and pressed the end of the barrel’s pistol against Iris’s forehead. “But you push someone far enough, you force them to show their hand.” With her free hand, Sarah reached for Iris’s throat, and she applied pressure, which caused Iris to bring her weathered and frail hands up to meet Sarah’s. But the old woman was too weak and fragile to fight back. “You want a second chance, but you don’t deserve one. You want to live a life that you think you’re entitled to, but you’re not. How much pain have you caused? How many lives have you ruined?” She squeezed tighter and Iris started to squirm. “You really want to atone? Then why don’t you go and meet your maker.”
Sarah clamped down tighter, and Iris thrashed wildly, her liver-spotted hands clawing at Sarah’s chest and neck. Tears filled Sarah’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. But while the rage boiled in her heart, Sarah finally released Iris, who coughed and hacked and sucked down air greedily.
Sarah stumbled backward and landed in a chair where she examined her hands. Hands that couldn’t kill no matter how much she wanted them too.
“I know what I did,” Iris said, her voice still a horse whisper. “I know what I am.” She cleared her throat.
