Miss Angelina [✔]

[15] Erstwhile

My instincts were to push myself into action as the quicker these bodies were moved, the quicker the entire situation could be manipulated towards our favour - with any luck we can lie our way out of it. I would put Florence before almost everyone, and if that meant The Greenery coming after me, I would deal with that. Besides in all likelihood, all of my anger would be stamped out if I had an entire group of men to slice through.

"You'll have to help me get rid of these bodies Florence," I say to her and begin to lift Jonathan out of the bathtub, as I do so she moves to my aid, and we haul him over our shoulders - he was far heavier than I imagined. We barely get to the bed before we need to drop him onto the sheets.

"Are they really going to kill me?" She whispers to me as we turn to get the other body in front of the bathroom door. I'm unsure how to respond at first; the possibility of it happening was very high given the scenario - but as I look upon her face, I can't bring myself to tell her that she had made the worst mistake possible.

"Sweetheart this really isn't the time." I attempt to divert the attention as I kneel next to the other body and hoist his upper body up. She grabs the legs but does not hoist him up just yet. She keeps her eyes on me.

"Answer me." She demands, holding her hands against the man's legs, making the task far more difficult for me. I stay kneeled and remove my hands from the body. I try to think of what she'd want to hear, or at least the nicest way of saying the penalty to her actions. As I looked at her, I saw the Florence that I once knew; innocent, scared, confused. Her eyes were wide and brimmed with tears.

"Most likely," I say simply. I cast my mind back to the party; she had talked to an array of men that I could recall; it was entirely possible people overlooked her talking to these men in particular - but the fact there were three of them if she had stopped at one it was far easier to say it was a coincidence that she'd talked with him, or even danced with him. I looked upon the man we were kneeling over. "Did anyone see you talking with these men? Or at least took great interest in you?" I ask, and her eyes drop away from mine.

"I don't believe so; I talked to a lot of men tonight." She replies.

"If that is the case you're less of a suspect; but there's still a large possibility they will find out about this Florence - he could have told anyone he was coming here." It was Jonathan we were talking about; he was smart, always had been. He left clues to everything and had a knack for getting information to people regardless of the time involved. I was struggling to stay optimistic; there was little hope left for her. The only thing we could do is remove all of the evidence and hope with everything we had that Florence wouldn't even come up when news broke that Jonathan was missing.

"I'm sorry." She says after we sit silently for a few minutes. It seemed genuine but still lacked the emotion she once had. So little time had changed her so dramatically. She hadn't even reached the grieving period yet - perhaps she had skipped right over it, perhaps she was insane - that would hardly surprise me considering where and how I'd raised her. I hoist the man's body up once again, and this time she aids me by lifting the other side. We dump him on top of Jonathan and then move to the hallway to collect the third.

"That's not enough this time darling," I admit; sorry wouldn't cover this mistake. She could not go to Alexander or Anthony and pour her heart out - she couldn't pretend to be an innocent young girl who just happened to be holding a knife that Jonathan 'fell' into. She had to be the grown-up she decided to be when eager to join - she had to either stand straight in front of a bullet or hide the gun.

"I can't take it back, what am I meant to do?" She scowls, staring down at the third body. As we move it back down the hallway to her room I notice her staring blankly towards his face - she seemed so angry, after everything tonight I couldn't imagine she felt any better than I did - in fact, I would say she felt worse - the reaction she received for these acts had only forced her to realise she had made several mistakes that she would pay for. If The Greenery found out all they'd do to me is force me to kill her, and I'd say living is far more satisfying than dying - but I'd have to take a rain check on that one.