From Fiona Ambrose’s memoirs: Daughters of All and Nothing.
I can admit without shame or guilt that the events at the Hell Scratch had shaken me. Badly. Even the beautiful morning following that hellish night couldn’t soften the anxiety coiled up inside my stomach. Half of the time I thought about checking myself back into the mental institution, once again doubting my own sanity. For all I know all of the events of the past few days were merely a fantasy of an ill mind.
The rest of the time I wanted to curl up in my bed and go to sleep forever.
I couldn’t do either. The world could be very cruel and indifferent to you no matter how traumatic an experience you were having. After we got the call that Faye had been murdered, I missed the next few days of school. During that week my parents received an email informing them of which classes I had missed. It was so horribly funny. One of the biggest pieces of my life had been stolen away and yet the world didn’t care. It didn’t even seem to mind. It just demanded that I either continue on or quit.
I was determined to continue on.
After seven hours of nothing but replaying last night’s events in my head, I called Mr. Broker. Five times. He didn’t answer his cell phone. At first I was worried…could he have ended up like Faye? Had I dragged him in so deep that whatever evil was at work had finally caught up with him? Was he out there, bleeding to death like my sister had been?! Each vile thought snowballed into a bigger and more graphic ending for my only lifeline in this nightmare. I think I had a mini-anxiety attack and began to cry as I felt completely and utterly alone. It was all my fault! I couldn’t live with the simple truth of my sister’s death so I had dragged a kind, caring and honest man to his death!
It took me another hour to pull myself together. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I went over to my dresser and retrieved the folder containing all of Faye’s research. If I was sane, the cause of her death could be found within these files...but what if I wasn’t?
Ignoring these frightening thoughts, I stuffed the files into my messenger bag. After phoning for a cab, I had the driver take me straight to the Booze Bin. I don’t know where Mr. Broker was but I might still find some allies in the Twins who apparently all but lived at the bar.
I vowed I’d hand my sister’s research over the very moment I saw Mr. Broker. It was unjust for me to keep this vital information to myself, even if it might make Faye seem less than the shining paragon I remembered her being. It was time for me to be honest. After all, Mr. Broker had been straightforward and honest with me so it was only fair…