The QuarrelMorton rose. “I’ll be back by nightfall.”
Talk of his death brought all my fears up again. But though my stomach churned and my hands shook, I kept my voice light. “Stay out of trouble, will you?”
He laughed. “I’ll try.”
Once he left, Mary said, “I put your mail on your desk.”
Should I involve myself with Katie’s business any further? What if it drew the attention of the Red Dog Gang? I pictured Maria Athena Spade lying dead, and as the face turned into Katie’s, tears came to my eyes.
“You worry yourself too much, mum,” Mary said. “It’ll only lead to melancholy.”
Since that terrible night in the Pot a year past, for a long time all I saw was the horrible empty look in Maria Athena’s eyes as I pulled that trigger.
I wept for days in my room, wracked with grief. My hands sh
