All Gloria wanted was a quick shush or a whistle or anything at all from Lisette.  She wanted to make sure her friend was alright, to make sure that the plan was still going according to the way that they had planned it.  But there wasn’t a whisper from Lisette.  Not one little peep or shuffle.  Instead, Gloria suddenly found herself confronted with the last face she wanted to see that night.  He stood stammering like he’d just been caught with his paw in the cookie jar.  

Gloria stepped back several steps, putting more space between them as she frantically glanced around for her friend, or any other witness that might be happening by.  But there was no one.  When Connor reached for some hidden thing he had, Gloria thought for a wild moment that he was going for his wand, and she stepped back again, her body filling with tension until she saw what it was.  Flowers.  Beaten up, half crushed little flowers.  She coughed out a weak, nervous laugh.  

“What . . . “ But she paused, glancing around them again.  “What did you do to Lisette?” she demanded.  The fact was that her friend was gone and he was the only one there and if Lisette was right about the letter being from a murderer, then it must be Connor who had done something to her.  Gloria felt her stomach flipping wildly.  “If you hurt her I swear you’ll pay for it.”



Gloria Watkins