Page 29 of A Whisper of Cinders

A big one as well. Strange that I didn’t notice it before.

The weapon that…killed my sweet Ami. It looks like one of the knives the chefs use to chop up vegetables.

I carefully lower Ami to the ground. “I’ll be right back, okay? I will take care of you. I promise.”

I push myself up, my legs unstable, and walk towards the knife. It’s covered in blood. Ami’s blood. I pick it up and take a closer look. It looks brand new, the blade still sharp. Someone stole it from the kitchen, but…why? Why would anyone hurt, no, kill her?

I hunch down, staring at the knife in my hand, unable to control the tremble coursing through my body. It takes a couple of seconds for me to register that we’re not alone. Someone else has entered the cafeteria and now walks towards us. I eventually look up, seeing Mister Coldarion with a hard expression on his face. It takes a moment for him to absorb the scene played out in front of him.

“Mister Coldarion, someone murdered…” no, I will not cry again, not right now. “Amira, she…” Oh fuck this, I am not an emotionless monster. And although I am an expert in keeping my emotions locked up in the closet inside my head, this is too much to keep in. “She is dead.”

There.

I said it.

But that makes it even more real.

A single tear rolls down my cheek.

Mister Coldarion remains silent, but the expression resting on his face is one of pure shock, terror and…is that fear?

His hand fiddles with something behind his back, before he raises both of his hands as if to show he means me no harm. As if I’m a scared animal. “Lower the weapon, Maily.”

Wait, what?

“No, you don’t understand, sir, I didn’t —”

He retreats one step as I take one closer. “You must remain calm. Put the knife down and step away from it.”

This makes no sense at all, does he really think… It’s at that moment that I realise what he is seeing, what massacre happened here.

Me, holding a knife, clothes drenched in blood. The red handprint that covers my cheek. The normally white floor now stained, bloody footsteps leading towards the kitchen and a puddle of blood surrounding me and… Ami, on the right side of me, a stab wound her cause of death.

This doesn’t look good. But he must know what she means to me. I would never hurt her. Not in a million years.

But he doesn’t know, because the look he is giving me right now is one full of fear. Fear for me, that I might hurt him as well.

I slowly lower the knife to the ground and push it aside with my foot, letting it slide across the floor in the puddle of blood.

Other patients filter through the doors. It must be near dinner time. Whispers crawl over my skin, their hushed words reaching my ears either way.

“Did she go into a frenzy…”

“She murdered…”

“It…about time…”

“…only a matter…time…”

“Murderer.”

Murderer.

But I didn’t. Did I?

No.

“Mister Coldarion, listen to me. I found her like this, I tried to stop the bleeding. I called for help, or at least I tried, but the network was offline.”