Victoria stood inside the narrow phone booth, her breath coming in uneven waves as her fingers trembled against the cold metal frame. The glass around her was smudged, scratched, barely shielding her from the dim street outside, and every passing shadow made her flinch as though someone might suddenly stop and stare, as though someone already knew.
Her chest rose and fell too fast. Her head felt light. She kept looking over her shoulder, again and again, her pulse refusing to settle, her mind refusing to slow.
The card.
Her hand tightened around it.
That same card.
The one the man from the bar had pressed into her palm, his voice calm, steady, almost out of place in the chaos her life had become.
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then she picked up the receiver.
Her fingers slipped slightly as she dialed, her breathing shallow, her throat tight. The ringing felt too loud, too long, stretching into something unbearable.
"Hello?" she whispered at first, then louder, "Hello?"
She paused.
Then his voice came through, low and certain.
"Victoria?"
Something inside her broke. "S-sir… sir, I—" Her voice shook violently, words tripping over each other as her breath refused to cooperate.
"Victoria! Calm down. Just breathe. What happened? What's wrong?"
Her eyes darted to the street again. Empty. Yet it didn't feel empty.
"Please…" Her voice cracked as tears gathered in her eyes. "Help me. Please, I need your help. I— I don't know what to do, I don't know what to—"
"Okay. Okay," he cut in, still calm, still controlled. "Tell me where you are. I'll come to you. Do I need to call the police? Have you called an ambulance?"
Her entire body tensed at the word.
"No! No police," she said quickly, almost panicked. "Please… no police."
There was a brief silence on the line, like he was thinking.
"Alright," he said finally. "Where are you?"
"Ravens street. Third block, apartment 5…"
"Okay! Stay where you are. I'm on my way."
The line went dead.
Victoria slowly lowered the receiver, her hands still shaking, her breath still uneven.
• • •
By the time she got back to the apartment, the air inside felt heavier than before, thick with fear.
She paced the living room, her steps uneven, restless, her hands running repeatedly through her black hair as though she could think clearer if she just kept moving. Her chest still hadn't settled, her heart still racing as if it refused to accept that the moment had already happened.
At the far side of the room, her mother sat in her wheelchair, shoulders shaking as quiet sobs escaped her, her hands trembling uncontrollably in her lap.
Mercy sat on the floor near the corner, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if she could make herself smaller, as if she could disappear. Her lips moved constantly, whispering the same words over and over.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
At the center of the room, the body lay beneath a sheet.
It was real.
Victoria's gaze kept drifting back to it no matter how much she tried not to look.
KNOCK KNOCK!
The sound was sharp and sudden.
All three of them froze.
Victoria's heart jumped violently as she turned toward the door, her steps hesitant at first, then faster. She reached it, paused just long enough to steady her breath, and peeked through.
Blonde hair.
Pale eyes.
It was him.
Relief hit her so hard it almost made her weak.
She yanked the door open.
"Sir— thank you, thank you so much for coming," she rushed out, her voice breaking as she grabbed onto the edge of the door. "Please… I need your help. I need your help. I didn't know who to call, I didn't know what to do…"
Her words dissolved into tears.
"Hey… slow down," he said, stepping closer, his voice low. "Just breathe. Tell me what—"
Then he saw it.
His gaze shifted past her and into the room.
The shape under the sheet.
He went still.
For a brief moment, his eyes widened, the calm cracking in his demeanor.
He stepped inside immediately and shut the door behind him.
"What happened?" he asked.
No one answered.
Mercy's whispering stopped, but she didn't lift her head. Their mother continued to shake silently, unable to form words.
Victoria wiped her face quickly, forcing herself to speak, forcing the words out past the tightness in her chest.
Mercy looked up. "I—"
Her voice failed her. Nothing came out of her mouth.
She swallowed, tried again, her body shaking harder. "I— I—"
"It was a mistake!" Victoria's voice cut through.
The man turned to her. "Who did it?" he asked directly.
Mercy's mouth opened again, that same fragile sound forming— "I—"
Victoria stepped forward quickly, placing herself between them.
"It was me," she said.
The words hung heavy in the room.
"I didn't mean to," Victoria continued, her voice breaking now, the tears returning faster. "It was an accident. He— he'd just came back, he was drunk, he was trying to hurt my mom and I… I just wanted to push him away and he reached for his toolbox and I— I grabbed the hammer and I…" Her breath hitched sharply. "I didn't mean to…"
Silence followed.
The man looked at her, then at the body, then at Mercy, then at their mother.
His expression shifted—into both shock, and reasoning.
"Okay," he said finally, lifting a hand slightly. "Okay. First… everyone needs to calm down. A lot is happening right now."
Victoria stared at him, her chest still rising and falling too fast, her hands clenched at her sides.
He exhaled slowly, then said it. "We have to hide the body."
The words landed like a metal bucket in an empty well.
"What?" Victoria whispered, barely audible.
"We can't call the police," he continued, his voice firmer now. "Victoria, listen to me carefully. You'll go to prison. No one is going to listen to you. All they'll see is that you killed a man. Your fingerprints are on the weapon. The scene is already compromised."
Her head spun. Her breathing grew uneven again.
The room felt smaller. Too little oxygen was reaching her brain.
She ran her hand through her hair, pacing once, twice, then stopping as she stared at the floor, trying to think while the tiles felt like they began to move.
"Okay… okay…" she muttered under her breath. "I… I understand…"
He nodded once.
"I'll get a pickup," he said. "We'll move him. Dispose of the body properly and quietly."
Victoria swallowed hard. "…Okay."
He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.
The silence he left behind was louder than anything before.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Mercy stood up suddenly.
"Wh-why?" she cried, her voice breaking as she stumbled forward. "Wh-why would you s-say that?" Tears streamed down her face as her words came out uneven, tangled. "Y-you weren't even h-home… you weren't here… h-how could you say—"
Victoria turned to her quickly, grabbing her shoulders.
"Listen to me, Mercy Solomon," she said, her voice low but urgent. "I need you to promise me something."
Mercy shook her head immediately, crying harder. "No… no, I d-don't want anything to happen to you. This is my fault… I did this, I—"
"LISTEN TO ME!"
Her voice cut through the room, commanding and leaving no space for argument.
Mercy froze.
Victoria's grip tightened slightly, her voice dropping. "Do not tell anyone what happened here today. Do you understand me?"
Mercy sniffed, her lips trembling as she nodded weakly. "O-okay… b-but what if he—"
"He won't," Victoria said quickly. "I'll handle it. He thinks it was me, and it's going to stay that way until we figure this out."
Mercy shook her head again, tears falling freely. "B-but— the hammer…"
Victoria's eyes flicked toward it.
For a brief moment, she hesitated.
Then she walked over, her steps slow before crouching slightly to pick it up.
The weight of it felt heavier than it should.
Her fingers tightened instinctively— then she dropped it immediately, as if it burned her.
Now her fingerprints stood as solid evidence not to dispute her claim.
She turned back to Mercy.
"Don't worry," she said quietly. "I'll handle it."
Behind them, their mother made a soft, broken sound, her hands shaking as she tried to reach out, her lips moving but no words forming.
Victoria's expression softened.
She walked over, kneeling beside her, gently taking her hands.
"It's okay, Mom," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "It's okay… everything is going to be okay."
Even as she said it, her chest tightened.
Because for the first time in taking care of her family … She wasn't sure if it was true.