A Daughter's Duty

Chapter 13

Again, I turned defensive. "No, you idiot. I tried to get her out because she was my responsibility - didn't you hear Mr. I? If I let her die, I would be ousted from Ministerio Iustitia! I wasn't trying to be a hero, or showing everyone how good I am at saving lives! I'm not mad!"

Michael didn't back down. "That was still ridiculously risky, Eve. Given your condition, I doubt the organization would hold anything against you, and -"

"Get out." The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them.

He looked taken aback, dropping his stance. "What?"

"Get out of my room, Mike. Move!"

"But listen to -"

"Go, will you?!"

He jumped up at the volume of my voice. He sighed, nodded and left, closing the door.

I sighed and sat up straighter, feeling incredibly guilty. My legs felt fine, but I still used the four-poster bed to get up. I walked slowly to my mirror, and gasped at the yellow bag of bones staring at me, her jaw dropped, her hair now messier than Consuela Horton's, her knuckles and knees knobbly and her eyes weak and colourless. She seemed exhausted, even though she didn't feel any exhaustion. She looked like she had lost at least fifteen kilos, and it would be surprising if she didn't collapse right that very second.

I turned away from the mirror, really hoping that the others wouldn't think of me as the zombie that I thought I looked like.

I climbed the stairs carefully - and even that height made me dizzy. So I had to grab the railing with both my hands and walk down slower than a snail. When I reached downstairs (thankfully), I heard voices from the living room.

"Michael," said my Gran's worried voice. "How is she? Is she awake? Did you talk to her?"

"She's fine," said Michael, dully. "At least, fine enough to shoo me out of her room."

"She asked you to get out?" Asked my aunt, surprised.

"Yelled." Corrected Michael. "It was my fault, anyway."

"Did you tell her about what happened?" asked Mr. I.

"We didn't get there," he said.

"Oh," said my grandmother's panicked voice. "Oh, she's going to be so devastated. She risked her life - her precious life. Oh..."

"Now, now, Ruth," said Mr. I placatingly. "If anyone is strong enough to handle it, it is her. You should know that. You haven't seen that side of her. The fierceness that she has - she could stare down a lion. But we need to tell her that Dunaway escaped."

"What?!" I yelled and rushed into the room, for once ignoring the pain in my chest. "Dunaway's escaped?! What? How? When?"

Michael was the first to calm down after the interuption that had caught them all off guard. He raised his hands pacifyingly. "I know - I'm shocked too. Arthur Dunaway escaped while we were coming back. He shot two guards and knocked out the inspector, who is now in the hospital because of the serious concussion. We have submitted the evidence, and now, the police are looking for him. There's nothing we can do, Evangeline."

Tears came to my eyes. "So he's gone? We did everything in vain?"

"Oh, darling," said my Gran. "Please don't say that. You did so much! Now we can get him arrested as soon as he is caught. Please calm down."

"Calm down?!" I yelled. "You're asking me to calm down?!"

"Easy, Evangeline," said Delilah firmly. "Dunaway will be caught. You need to rest - you're crying."