The Night Children

Chapter 43

I watched as the street lights of the narrow roads of Brookefield whizzed by me, each one a flicker of hope before it streaked past my window. My thoughts were like those streetlights, one minute there and the next they were gone. I couldn't quite illuminate each one individually but I knew each one held a purpose.

I couldn't believe Isaac had thrown himself under the bus for me. He must have had a desperate reason to accuse himself of something so controversial. He had thought of his plan because his confessions exactly matched the evidence Pincel had so far, so much to the point where his lie could easily be believable. I knew he was protecting me but to what extent? What must he protect me from that was bad enough to get himself arrested? We both knew Pincel was an enemy and sought to kill me, but I couldn't help but think that Isaac knew something about Pincel that I did not.

And then there was Miss Anderson. Her accusations of me being a werewolf led up to her reasoning to try and kill me, but she could have easily have done that over the last couple of days. Why did she wait to set me up? And what did she mean by she wants everyone to see what I am? I am nothing but a tunid. A tunid who was caught up in the shadows of the supernatural.

Lastly there was Aaron. He had played along with Isaac's lie like it meant nothing to him. Why would he deliberately make sure Isaac was locked up and questioned? I knew they had history together, but that wasn't enough to accuse each other of murder. Was it because Aaron still believed that Isaac could be the murderer? Was it because Aaron wanted to get him out of the picture? Either way, I was not impressed by Aarons lie. He hadn't done it to protect me, he had done it for the satisfaction of seeing Isaac thrown into the deep end of the community.

I blinked to rid of my thoughts, peering through the bars to stare at the Deputy. Harry was driving with his hand gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension. He was staring at the winding road ahead of us, as if pretending I was nothing but a shadow in the back seat. Metal bars separated us, each one like a column separating me from the truth. Occasionally his eyes flickered to his rear-view mirror, but every time I caught him watching me, he would quickly glance back at the road. I knew what he thought of me. I knew what his mind was telling him.

I was the girl who tore Amber apart. I was the girl who twisted a dagger into Coltons heart. I was the girl who slit Francesca's throat. I was the girl who dragged bodies into the woods. And yet I was the girl who had shown his son kindness.

"Fin likes you."

I looked up ereputedly to see him watching me again. His voice was stern with little emotion but I could tell it was only because he was restraining himself to. I only nodded, examining the little features I could see in the gathering darkness of the mid-day shadows. In the reflection of the mirror, I could see a pale faced girl staring back at me. She had rounded brown eyes, curly brown hair and a freckled heart shaped face. I barely recognised the dark rings, bruised cheek and swollen lips as myself before Harry spoke again.

"He never stopped talking about you."

I only nodded again, too afraid to speak. I was worried that if I opened my mouth, everything would come pouring out. The truth would bounce off my tongue. Everything about Isaac being a Parade member to Miss Andersons mission to kill me would all tumble out and I would be deemed a psycho.

Harry slowed to a halt at the traffic light, and took the opportunity to turn around in his seat. His orange hair seemed to blaze in the dimmed car and I wondered how Fins hair had managed to be such a fiery blonde colour.

"My son doesn't just like anyone." He said, his face all angles of seriousness. "You make him happy, and no one else has managed to do that except one other person."