Not About Angels (A Tom Riddle Story)

Chapter 92

Warning: Contains violence/blood/torture

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Everyone has a weakness. 

No matter how strong, how invincible, how cold they appeared, they all had a weak spot. 

Once you figure out that weakness, you have him completely in your hands...

That was the principle Arnold Benard had figured out through his years in the Ministry and as the minister's personal inquisitor. 

He pondered, walking back and forth outside of the cell room she was in. 

She was so thin and fragile, now sick with fear and morning sickness. How much longer can she hold up? 

He had already identified her weakness: it was the boy. The boy they were after. 

As a result, it was difficult to weasel any useful information out of her. But nevertheless, she was the most important link. Even if she didn't speak, someone will. 

Perhaps a certain someone will even make a visit, fingers crossed...

....................................... 

Cassie was called in again.  

"Give me the wand. Don't use it today." He requested. 

"Sir? Why?" She asked Benard. "She won't talk unless we make this difficult."

"Her body can't handle any more of that. She's pregnant and sick."

"But what does it matter..." She uttered.

"The baby is leverage. We can't risk it..."

"Then how will I get her to talk?" Cassie asked. 

"Figure it out. You're a smart girl, aren't you?" He said ominously. "The Minister is growing impatient, Cassandra. If you can't do it, someone else will..."

Cassie nodded, preparing herself. And then, she had a devilish idea in her mind and the very thought of it scared her, yet she was drawn to it completely. 

She laughed to herself a little, thinking of the cruel irony of this all.

"Give me a knife." She told Arnold Benard, her voice steady now.

He raised an eyebrow but instructed his associate to bring one up anyways.  

"What are you going to do?" He asked, looking at the girl, wondering what was racing in that brain of hers. For some reason, he couldn't read her. 

He could only see the hard hatred in her eyes. 

"You invited me here for a reason. I know her better than anyone...so trust me. I won't let you down, sir." She said, unlocking the door.  

Abigail sat in the corner, every part of her body aching. The bowl of food they had left by the door was left untouched, now buzzing with flies as the soup had gone stale. 

Her eyes were bloodshot, as she hasn't slept well in days...She sat there, edging on the brink of hopelessness and despair. 

She knew what she did. She knew of the crimes she committed...now, she alone had to pay the price...She could never confess. If she did, it would be a death sentence for all three of them. SHe could never do that. 

If she talked, they would kill her. And her daughter. And Tom Riddle. 

Cassie closed the door behind her. 

"I'm giving you one last chance." She said, crouching down next to Abigail. "I'm giving you one last chance. Tell me where he is. Tell me if he did it or not. That's all we need."