Silent Scream

Sixty-Six

I knew I'd been right when I first saw her. Her diligence and tenacity had served her well. Perhaps too well.

Because it had brought her back to me.

I had initially thought that we would not meet but that was no longer the case.

My insurance, my clever misdirection, had not been enough. For some it would have been. But not for her.

Here she was, alone, late at night, gaining entry to an abandoned building, searching for answers. She would not rest until she had uncovered the secrets.

All of them.

It was only a matter of time before her methodical reasoning brought her to me. I couldn't take that chance.

Had she not been so clever I would have allowed her to live. People have to take responsibility for their own actions.

I remember when I was twelve in the lunch hall. Robbie had a chicken salad sandwich. It looked so much tastier than my ham and cheese. I asked him to trade and he laughed in my face.

A broken rib, a black eye and two fractured fingers later, I had the sandwich and it tasted good.

See, it needn't have happened. If he'd just traded, he would have been fine. I tried to explain this to the teachers but they couldn't understand. They all made excuses for my lack of remorse.

I wasn't troubled. I wasn't seeking attention. I was not acting up because my grandma had died.

I just wanted the sandwich.

It was a shame that the detective had to die. The presence of her keen mind and unerring drive would be missed but she had brought it on herself.

It wasn't my fault.

My only fault lay in the mistake I made some years before, but it was one that I hadn't made since.

But then, even the greatest minds occasionally made errors.

And as I watched her climb in through the fence, I realised that the detective had just made her last.