Innocent Murderers

Twenty Two - The One Where We Hit Jackpot

Aaron's PoV
When I return home after my trip to the bridge, I feel motivated despite the fact that I still have zero idea where to even start looking for Kennedy. I immediately take my stale, cheap coffee to my section of the run-down dining table, and open my laptop. What I don't expect to find in my emails is an email from someone called 'Joe' stating that he knows where Kennedy is. My heart folds itself into a paper plane, and I click on it faster than my brain can process.

The email simply states to meet him at the Brooklyn Library, political section, at eleven a.m. I hurriedly pick up my phone, ten fifty two. I find myself on my feet quickly, and I don't even bother to tell anyone where I am going as I leave, shoes slipped blindly on and hair still in its messy state from weeks before. The air is still raw from the morning, but the difference now is that the entire city is bathed in light from the now high in the sky sun. My feet are carrying me quickly, almost at a jog as I make my way to the main road, the Brooklyn LIbrary is two blocks away and I don't have time for a cab so I make the five minute walk to the street in which the large building is situated. I am running by the time I reach the entrance, and smile uncertainly at two cops eyeing me suspiciously. I flash the lady at reception a charming smile and jog up the stairs. I eventually find the area labelled 'political writings', and, as suspected, looking closely at the 'origins of British government' books, is a young man, perhaps sixteen. He looks intimidating, with his leather jacket and black jeans. His hair is flopped to the side, not a lot different to how Jackson wears his. However, when he turns to me my breath catches in my throat.

Running down his face, is a long, jagged scar. His green eyes shine from underneath glasses, and yet the scar still takes over his face. Despite the level of distracting the scar offers, I still notice the way his cheeks have been hollowed out and bleached to an unnatural white. 

"Aaron, right?" He asks, whispering.
I nod, checking behind me for eavesdroppers.

"Where is she?" I ask, and the boy stumbles over his next words.
"I'm not allowed to tell you, but I can show you." He explains, and then walks further down the narrow aisle. His eyes are calculating as he scans the shelves. When he finds what he's looking for, he pulls it off the shelf and hands it to me. It is a book called, 'Government City Maps from the 19th Century'. I open the cover, and there, pencilled clearly against the worn pages, is a note.

'Page 345.'

I look up to say thank you, but when I do I find the boy has disappeared. Confusion clouds my thoughts, but I managed to break free of my awe, and flip to page 345.

It's a map of Roosevelt Island. And highlighted clearly is the Renwicks Smallpox Hospital. I pull my phone from my pocket and bring up Google. Doing a quick search, I find myself faced with a completely stereotypical abandoned building. I almost laugh, there's no way this can be real. But there's no harm in trying. 

The apartment is silent when I get back. It's usual, overwhelming smell of coffee and paper blurs my senses as I take in the messy room.
The kitchen/living room area is small and cramped up. The table is stuffed of laptops and papers, and the kitchen is littered with coffee cups.

I make my way across into the living room, where Penny and Jackson are sprawled on the floor, both with wide eyes and staring at computer screens.
They don't acknowledge my arrival. I'm not even sure they realised I'd left.
I make my way down the narrow corridor, the first door is open and reveals to me a sleeping Lucy and Derek. Rose is curled up in the room next door, the smallest one.

I knock on the door gently. She looks up and I see she's been crying.
"What's up?" I ask. She shakes her head.
"Oh, you know. Kennedy and Adam and everything." I squeeze her hand and give her an encouraging smile.
"It's okay. We're going to find her," I say.
She looks up at me, and I'm caught like a deer in headlights at the distraught shadows dancing across her dark eyes.
"You don't know that." She whispers, voice hoarse.
"Look, I got an email today from someone claiming to know where she is. I went, and he gave me this." I show her the page I ripped from the book, the map of Roosevelt with Renwicks circled boldly.
She sniffs, and laughs.
"This is amazing." She says, and hugs me.
I ignore her unwashed scent, identical to the rest of ours because our shower doesn't work and none of us can be bothered. Gross, I know.

Rose rests her head on my shoulder, and I can't help but grin into her braided hair.

I'm so close to finding her.

I just hope she's alive when I do.

-
Ahaha. This book is coming to a close :(. But a sequel is in order of yall would like to see one.

Love you beautiful people x