The Half-Class by Kayvion Lewis

Chapter Twenty-Two

We had to tell Saddy everything.

Brison didn’t want to, and I didn’t either, but we were in too much of a hurry to dump the horses in the stable and hustle into the apartment to avoid raising suspicion. As soon as we burst through the back door, Richal collapsed to the ground, and Brison pressed his hands to his forehead. I leaned back against the closed door, my whole body shaking. Saddy had seen us come in, and she knew something was very wrong.

So, we told her everything.

Her gaze stayed far away from me as I finished recounting everything that had happened. She wrapped her arms around Richal and whispered to him.

“You’re fine.” She ran a hand over his curly head. “Everything’s fine.” Still not looking at me.

Saddy helped her son up, more pulling than guiding. The sheer emptiness in his face nearly shattered me.

“Stay here until it’s safe,” Saddy said, but I knew she was talking to me this time. “I don’t know how long that will be, but after that, don’t come back.”

She led Richal out of the tiny kitchen, leaving Brison and me alone. Saddy thought this was my fault. Wasn’t it? I could have told them to run instead of stop. We probably could have made it. I could have taken the officer up on his offer. I could have let them stay at the manor like they had wanted to. I grasped at my heart through my chemise, feeling like I could pry it out. Why did I have to make them come back with me?

Brison’s fists balled at his sides. “Was he dead?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“But he had to be, right?” His voice pleaded for an answer I couldn’t give. “He’s gotta be dead.”

I shook my head. Richal was never going to forget about that. Even if he could, it was only a matter of time before someone found the man’s body. Word was going to get back to the king about it--another life to add to the number we’d taken already. Another dead soldier was only going to make things even worse.

Brison was right. He needed to be dead. If he wasn’t, if he lived and he remembered our faces, we were done.

“He’s dead.” I swallowed. “I think he was.”

I said it for Brison, but I needed to believe it too. He had to be dead. He had to be.

Brison’s chin quivered, and a sob escaped him. “Are—are they gonna come for Richal?” He broke down completely. Tears streamed down his face as he coughed up sobs. I rushed up to him and squeezed him into me. He grabbed my chemise and wept into my chest.

“No, he’s going to be fine. I swear it on my life.” We slumped to the ground as I let him cry. My own eyes started to well.

“Nothing’s going to happen. I won’t let it.” I did my best to muffle my own sob, realizing I had no guaranteed means of keeping this promise.

Brison stayed in my arms until he ran out of tears. Then we only rocked there in silence, each completely numb. I waited for Saddy to come back and tell me Richal was asleep or that he was alright, or even just to take Brison away. But she remained gone. Eventually, Brison picked himself up and left too, presumably to check on his brother. Part of me wanted to follow him, but I knew I couldn’t. Saddy didn’t want me up there and, truthfully, didn’t want to see Richal as I’d left him. In the safety of downstairs, I could imagine him sound asleep up above.

I sat alone in Saddy’s kitchen. Saddy eventually came back to prepare mid-meal. Or perhaps it was breakfast. Perhaps it was neither. We said nothing to each other, though my mouth fell open with intentions to more than once. Each time I stopped myself. She was kind enough to feed me but did so without making eye contact. I had a feeling she would never look at me again.

A couple hours passed. The sun rose higher in the sky. I should have left as soon as we returned—when the street was clearer. Time only added to its population, and from Saddy’s tiny kitchen window, I couldn’t tell if the riders further down the way were simply townsfolk upon black horses or soldiers scouting for half-classes.

With no intention of taking any chances, I curled beside Saddy’s oven fire and waited, hoping time and perhaps nightfall would provide an escape for me.