Chapter 80 - Mr. Crowley

Morrigan sat alone in the stark, dimly lit room at the police station. The only furniture was a metal table and two uncomfortable chairs. The cuffs had been removed, but her wrists and shoulders still felt slightly sore. She rubbed her wrists absentmindedly, trying to calm the anxiety gnawing at her insides. The door was closed, and she knew it was locked from the outside.

At least they hadn’t taken the glamour charm from her, and it seemed to be holding up, at least so far. She knew there wouldn’t be much Hilda could do at this point, and until they returned the skeleton key to her, she was just as hopeless as any ordinary 16-year-old girl who found herself on the wrong side of the law.

This is so unfair! I didn’t even do anything!

Finally, the door opened, revealing Detective Grant with a bottle of water and a pack of crackers. “Here, got this for you just in case you’re hungry or thirsty.”

Morrigan sighed, looking at the water and crackers but not touching them. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said softly. “I just needed to see my mom.”

Grant nodded sympathetically. “I understand. But running away and avoiding contact for three months raises a lot of questions. Now, there’s a CPS agent on her way, and she’ll have some different questions for you. What I’m personally concerned about right now is who you’ve been with these last three months.”

Morrigan shook her head. “Somebody who I lied to about my age. They didn’t know how young I was or that I ran away, so now I don’t want them to get into any trouble.”

“If that’s true, then they have nothing to worry about, but we would still like to talk to them.”

“Why?”

Grant sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Because we need to understand the full picture, Morrigan. We need to make sure you’re telling the truth and that you were safe during those three months. As much as I want to take your word for it, we have a protocol we follow in these situations. What I’m worried about, beyond making sure nothing bad has happened to you, is another sixteen-year-old girl going missing some time in the future.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t like that.”

“And like I said, I can’t just take your word for that. So what do you say? Can you help me out here? I promise whoever it is you were staying with won't get into any trouble.”

Morrigan sat up a little straighter, completely irritated as this just felt like it was going around in circles. “I understand you think you’re helping, but you’re not! I’ve been just fine these last three months—I can take care of myself and don’t need CPS or a shelter or whatever. AND I don’t know of anyone who might be a danger to anyone else in the future, either. So this is pointless. You’re wasting my time and keeping me away from my mom for no reason!”

“And I can’t just take what you’re saying for granted. My job is to follow our protocol which has been established over years of experience amongst thousands of different police departs that handle cases like this every day. We have a reason for doing things the way we do. Does that make sense?”

“No, it doesn’t. You just grabbed me and started treating me like a criminal when I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Well, the easier you make it for me to check all the boxes and show that I did everything I’m supposed to, the easier I can move on. Part of that is investigating where you’ve been for the last three months. So, do you want to start answering my questions?”

Morrigan exhaled and put her forehead down on the table. “This is going in circles… I’m not saying anything, so just stop asking.”

“How about Hilda and Emma? Have you been in contact with them over the last three months?”

Morrigan kept her head against the table and didn’t say anything else.

A few very long minutes passed in silence until the detective’s chair moved. He cleared his throat, preparing to say something else. But just then, there was a tap on the door.

“I’ll be right back,” Detective Grant said, then left the room.

Minutes dragged on, feeling like hours. She just wanted to leave this place, go back to the hospital, and sit with her mom until she woke up. She didn’t care if it took days—she would sleep in the hospital room and be there for her. Except, that wasn’t an option either because she would have more reaping to do tomorrow, and if she did not manage to escape, she might be sent to limbo. She wished she could make the cop understand how much he was NOT helping.

Then, the door opened again, revealing Grant. “Morrigan, one more question for you. Do you know someone by the name Desmond Crowley?”

Morrigan narrowed her eyes. It was vaguely familiar but…

Death.

That’s right. She spotted that name on his credit card once but didn’t think much of it as she only got a brief glance at it. But, how did the detective know that name? Did he figure it out through her cell phone somehow? Death did pay for the phone, after all.

“Don’t know. Why?”

Grant cleared his throat. “Well, a Mr. Crowley is here now. I just wanted to verify the name.” He sighed when Morrigan didn’t answer. “I’m not trying to trick you.”

Morrigan’s mind spun as she tried to think how to answer. Grant appeared to take her hesitance for dishonesty, but she was legitimately perplexed over the situation. He let out a long sigh, opening the door and making a hand gesture. A moment later, a familiar figure was standing in the doorway.

It was Death, disguised as a wrinkled old man wearing a well-worn suit and leaning on a cane. It was slightly different than his grave keeper persona, but she knew instantly that it was him.

“Uh… h-hi… Mr. Crowley,” Morrigan said, unsure of herself.

“Hello, Morrigan. Detective Grant here has explained everything to me, and, well, I pieced a good bit of it together myself upon reading the news,” Death said.

“I see… um… sorry I lied to you?” she answered.

“So,” Detective Grant cut in. “This is the guy you were staying with?”

She wished she knew exactly what Death’s story was, but for now, she assumed it wasn’t too far off from her own regarding lying about her age. “Um… yeah, he is,” she answered the detective. But, um… I lied about my age, and he didn’t know I was running away… so please don’t get him in trouble.”

“Well, that's all right. Thank you for coming down, Mr. Crowley. I do have a few more questions I’d like to ask you in another room first, however.”

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“Of course, detective. By all means.”

Death began to follow Grant away but Morrigan called out to him. “Mr. Crowley!” He stopped and turned to her. “Um… can I… still… work for you tomorrow?”

Death chuckled. “Well, at this point, I’m afraid that’s not up to me, Morrigan. But, if it comes to be your mother nor anyone else takes issue with it, I would be more than glad to have you continue assisting me with organizing my library. Though, either way, the situation seems to me that tomorrow may be unlikely.” He turned to Grant. “She has been an absolute godsend. I’ve never had a more diligent helper. And so honest too! Well, apart from that one… big thing.” His words trailed off, but then he chuckled again.

“Alright,” Grant said, though less amused. “Oh, and Morrigan looks like you have one more person here to see you. Mr. Crowley will be talking with me for now.”

“Farewell, Morrigan,” Death said, discretely slipping something out of his pocket to show her. It was the skeleton key. Take care. Be sure to do all the police ask of you; they are only trying to help. And I am sorry to hear about your mother. In the future, I’ll be happy to help in any way that I can.”

“Thanks, Mr. Crowley,” Morrigan answered, and then the door shut. She quickly tried to piece together what all of this meant. Surely, Death didn’t need to reveal himself to anyone in order to steal back the skeleton key. So why did he bother?

She didn’t get much time to mull it over because a few moments later the door opened again. This time, it was a woman who was dressed in business casual attire with a folder and a briefcase.

“Hello there, you must be Morrigan,” she said as she sat down and opened the folder then clicked open a pen.

“Yup…” Morrigan said unenthusiastically.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. You can call me Ms. Saffron, and I work with CPS, and I’ll be your agent.”

Morrigan just stared back. Here was someone else who was supposed to be helping her but really just making life more difficult.

“So, sounds like you’ve been out on a bit of an adventure this summer,” she said, shuffling through some papers and occasionally making a mark with her pen.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Morrigan said dryly.

Ms. Saffron let a smile touch her lips. “I’m sure I don’t. But, if you’d like to fill me in I would very much like to hear about it.”

Morrigan sighed. “Sorry, but I’m pretty much tired of talking to people who act like they are trying to help me. So, no. I’d rather not.”

Ms. Saffron set her pen down and closed her folder, looking at Morrigan with a gentle smile. “I understand that it feels that way, but I am here to help.”

“And as I’ve been saying all day, I don’t need help,” Morrigan replied, fixing Ms. Saffron with a glare.

“And why do you think that, Morrigan?”

“Well I’ve been just fine the last three months without you people.”

“Hmm… Well, can I ask why you ran away in the first place?”

“I didn’t. I just left for a while.”

“Three months is a long while. I’m sure you knew people were looking for you.”

Morrigan exhaled. “Please just let me go. I want to go visit my mom.”

“I’ll definitely make sure that gets arranged for you in the near future. But, can I ask what your relationship with your mother is like?”

“It’s fine.”

“What’s a typical day like with her?” Ms. Saffron waited a while longer, but when Morrigan didn’t answer, she continued. “I know she was a single parent. Your father died when you were quite young. I’m also aware that until recently, your mother worked as a dancer.”

Morrigan's eyes narrowed, feeling a surge of anger and defensiveness. "So what?" she snapped. "She did what she had to do to take care of me."

Ms. Saffron nodded. "I’m not judging her. I just want to understand your situation better.” Morrigan could feel this random woman watching her, even though Morrigan didn’t meet her eyes. “You care a lot for your mom, don’t you?”

“I guess so.”

Saffron sat back, still staring at her. Morrigan just wanted this to be over already. Morrigan eventually asked, “So what's going to happen to me next?”

“Right now, it seems you don’t have anyone other than your mother we can bring you to. So, therefore, you’ll spend the night in a shelter.”

“You’re going to keep me locked up, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Right now, we’re considering you a flight risk based on how long you’ve stayed away from home and the fact that you tried to run from Detective Grant. I’m glad you were somewhere safe, but we can’t risk you ending up on the streets alone.”

“Figures,” Morrigan muttered. She hoped Noir would be able to help her break out of the shelter. Maybe the cat could bring the skeleton key to her. “Whatever, not like I can say anything to change it, I guess.”

“Can I ask you something a little more personal?” Ms. Saffron asked.

Morrigan shrugged.

“Have you been eating well since you’ve been gone?”

Morrigan froze, offended by the question. “Yeah, I’ve been eating just fine,” she snapped. Although, she understood why Saffron asked. She was well aware of how thin she had become. Ever since dying, she didn’t keep weight on very well, and part of that is because she hadn’t had much of an appetite since that day. That probably had more to do with her near-constant state of anxiety than being a reanimated corpse. Even Emma pointed it out to her that she’s gotten a lot thinner over the last few months.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but its a concern. It looks like you’ve lost nearly thirty pounds, based on your pictures. And from what I can see in front of me, you’re…”

“I said I’m fine,” Morrigan snapped.

“No, Morrigan, you’re not fine,” Saffron said sternly. “That much is obvious. It is not normal for a girl your age to run away, or to lose that much weight when you were already rather thin to begin with.”

“What? Do you think I’m on drugs? Test me then!”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“Then what are you saying!?” Morrigan yelled, standing up and slamming her hands on the table.

Saffron fixed her with a gaze that was both sympathetic and unyielding. “How about you sit down. I can promise you one thing and that’s acting out and screaming isn’t going to help your situation.”

Morrigan clenched her fists but eventually took a deep breath and sat down. A silence hung in the air until she changed the subject back to what she was really worried about. “How long am I going to have to stay at the shelter?”

“Well… that varies. It mainly depends on finding somewhere else for you to go.”

“Can I stay with my friend Hilda instead? She’s an adult.”

“Maybe. But for the next couple nights, probably not.”

“If you don’t let me go, I’m just going to run again. So if you’re that worried about it you should just let Hilda watch me.”

To Morrigan’s surprise, Ms. Saffron smiled softly. “It doesn’t work that way Morrigan. Even though Hilda’s an adult, she’s not a family member, so we’ll have to investigate her to make sure she’s a safe fit for you.”

Morrigan sighed. “This is what I hate about this. You guys don’t listen to anything I’m saying. Look, Hilda’s my best friends cousin, she’s someone I trust! Why do you think you know better!”

“I know it feels that way, but there are procedures we have to follow.”

“Well, this is bullshit! I don’t care about your procedures. I was doing just fine, and when I heard what happened to my mom, I wanted to go visit her! You’re the ones keeping me away from her now!” Morrigan felt tears building up in her eyes.

Then, she felt a sharp pain as the changeling banged against the seal. She winced and clenched her fist, but it continued to act up, and she felt the bubbling in her back rise to a boil.

“Morrigan?” Saffron asked as Morrigan clenched her teeth and pulled her hood over her head.

Damn it, not now! I don’t need this right now!

“Morrigan, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped as her voice cracked with emotion, and she began to cry. The changeling calmed somewhat, but it was still agitated. She was just glad she had long hair and a hoodie to hide behind so her face wouldn’t give away the pain. “Just let me see my mom. Please.”

“I’m sorry, it’s already getting late, but we’ll try our best to get you to the hospital tomorrow, okay? For now, we’re going to go ahead and transport you to the shelter.”

“I said I don’t want to go…” Morrigan said, keeping her face hidden.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to put up for now. Hang on, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

With that, Saffron left Morrigan alone in the room once again. As the door clicked shut behind her, Morrigan laid her head on the table, hidden under her hood and her arms, her body trembling with frustration and longing to just be by her mom's side. Once again, she was trapped with no control over her life, which was not an unusual experience, even before she died.

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