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Twice I stood, preparing to leave, to fly away. Something deep inside me stopped me. The crucial moment arrived and I stood, drawn to Greta, knowing that if I did not go into that dark night I would always wonder. I knocked on the door and, there being no command to enter, I hesitantly opened it and moved into the doorway. There was a single candle burning on the far side of the room. It cast little light but it caught Greta’s silk dress and I could vaguely see her eyes and the pale skin of her face and arms. She was sitting. ‘Come to me, Kitty. Close the door and come and kneel in front of me.’ I walked slowly towards her and when I got close I could see more clearly but only her. The halo of light from the candle beside her lit nothing of the rest of the room. Vague shapes, small reflections were all I could pick out. I knelt close to her and in front of her. “Give me your hands.’ I stretched them out towards her and she held them and just as she had on that first night in Lise’s. I yanked the woman away from his spurting prick, and she rolled across the floor with the back of her hand to her mouth, eyes wide. I pulled the man to his feet, a bit surprised at his weight, most of which seemed concentrated in his huge belly and stumpy legs. I bent one of his arms up in the middle of his back and marched him out the back door, kicked him a time or two, and tossed him into the dusty yard. He smelled like a rum barrel.He sputtered and growled, red-faced, climbed to his feet, put his limp member away and charged at me like a mad bull. I side-stepped, tripped him and he ran head first into the steps, windmilling his arms. One of the treads caught him on the forehead, and I heard his neck snap like a dry twig. He rolled over, flung his arms wide, kicked his feet and expired, head resting on the bottom step at a very odd angle and one leg bent under him."Damn," said the woman standing in the doorway. I heard feet behind me and the girl rushed past, leaping over the body.
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