Captive Songbird: Book 2 in the Songbird series. (A 1920s time travel romance series) by Ophelia Lockheart

Author:Ophelia Lockheart [Lockheart, Ophelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ophelia Lockheart
Published: 2022-05-30T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Roseanna

It Ain’t Over Till It’s Over

IN THE QUEUE AT SUPPER, Verity lets out a squeak of excitement when I am handed a big chunk of bread and something that strongly resembles meat and potatoes. She’s so thrilled at the gesture of acceptance that I tear away half the bread and spoon some of the heartier elements of the dish into hers so that we can better share the moment.

Then I seat myself in the available space opposite Bet.

Her cronies stop talking and stiffen in their seats while the atmosphere turns volatile.

Bet clutches her spoon as though one might a dagger. “You’ve got some front coming over here and sitting with me.”

“We need to talk.”

“Ain’t nothing I want to say to you unless it’s over your dead body.”

“I understand why you want me dead.” I nod slowly. “I wanted someone dead too once, but nowhere near as much as I wished that a boy lived....” I tear off a chunk of bread and put it beside Bet’s bowl.

She looks at me suspiciously.

“Benjamin Alderman was fifteen and tall and gangly for his years. He wouldn’t eat meat if he’d met the animal it came from and he never cussed, not even when he was in pain and his life was ebbing away.” I picture Benjamin in my arms during his final moments, staring up at me with a strength and dignity that was beyond his years, and remember how he stole my heart. “Benjamin had a family. A good one. A little brother, Henry, who races around like his pants are on fire and a younger sister with the same blonde hair who talks and talks about every detail of her life with a sense of wonder that makes your heart feel like it might burst with love.

“He didn’t invite pain into his young life, yet he was recruited by it nonetheless. A senseless, pointless death that rippled through the lives of others until it almost drowned them. Eventually you have to ask yourself, where does it stop? When is there enough death?”

I shrug and dip my bread into the gravy just so I have something to do with my hands.

“I didn’t wake that morning planning to shoot your son, just like I don’t think he left his house that day with the intention of murdering a child. Sometimes, events escalate beyond our control and we become mere vessels for our values.”

I let go of the bread and it sinks inside the bowl. Then I stand.

“Death cannot be honoured by more death.”

Bet’s gaze moves from mine to glance around her table of supporters who have been quietly listening—the same as the rest of the room, but I don’t dare turn my attention from her—not when she could turn on me in an instant. When Bet turns back to me, her expression is unreadable.

“I came over here to call a truce with you. Life thrives best through living it, and Benjamin wouldn’t want further bloodshed.”

And I refuse to die in honour of a man such as Eli Harris.

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