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Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

The rest of the day was uneventful. Devorah was forced to stand idly by as Georgie and Gabriel did their best to comfort Jacob, literally spending hours reassuring the man that he was safe and a good person. At least Bell was there to help numb some of the boredom.

Bell was fine company. She was sweet, and could fill every uncomfortable silence. But she wasn’t who Devorah really wished was with her.

After calming down, it became easier to admit that Devorah wished Anna was there. Anna, with her bright eyes and scathing tone. Anna, with her many questions and many answers. Anna was one of the only people who could keep up with Devorah when she really got thinking. And above all that, she was funny. She had hope and faith where Devorah had none.

Devorah desperately needed something to have faith in, because she was never going to have enough faith in herself.

Not-life got vaguely interesting again when Mathilde came down for dinner, flanked by a nervous Kefilwe and quietly tired Nour. Devorah assumed there was no set dinner time, based on how the two trios were the only ones in the dining hall at the time. And it was likely both had not expected the other to be there, based on the way Jacob quickly paled when Mathilde walked into the room.

Still, Mathilde graciously breached the wall of awkwardness and sat right next to Georgie as Kefilwe made her a plate of some kind of roasted fowl and mixed vegetables. Nour sat protectively on her other side. Conversation flowed amiably enough, though no one brought up the extremely large elephant in the room, the one that bulged up near the arms of Mathilde’s new, clean habit.

After dinner, everyone retreated back to their rooms for bed. Devorah and Bell spent hours playing I Spy, then Chopsticks, and then the most boring game of Never Have I Ever in history. Turns out, two nerds didn’t have too many embarrassing stories or wild and crazy acts up their sleeves. Who would have guessed.

During a lull in conversation, Devorah checked her notifications. Nothing new. That was disappointing, she had really been hoping that the analyst or even Riley would have gotten back to her.

Then the sleeping occupants in the room were woken to loud, persistent pounding on the door. Even as Georgie, Jacob and Gabriel hastily dressed themselves, whoever was on the other side kept knocking.

That was never a good sign.

When Georgie finally took charge and opened the door, Devorah knew her suspicions were correct. It was Brad on the other side of the door, cap in one of his hands. The other was still raised, mid-knock. When he looked up, Devorah saw that his eyes were filled with tears.

“Brad?” Georgie said, apprehension clear on her face.

Brad’s head lowered again, strikingly solemn compared to the vivacious young man throwing all caution to the wind who Devorah had sort-of met yesterday.

“Mathilde’s dead,” Brad said. “The investigation is starting.” Georgie’s grip on the door tightened, and she turned away, having a coughing fit. Gabriel rushed in to support her.

Mathilde? Damn. Guess someone decided to shoot their shot.

Devorah attempted to muster up some kind of emotion about it. Sadness, for the kindhearted woman she barely knew. Anger over another death. Maybe even some misbegotten kind of gallow’s humor. But there was nothing for her to dredge up.

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Bell looked like she felt something. Her eyes went wide, and her hand was pressed over her mouth. Bell had spent more time with Mathilde and her friends than Devorah had. It made sense then, that she would be sadder about this death. But it still made Devorah question one of her previously made conclusions- that the AIs had their emotions tampered with.

Bell could have been putting on an act, or moving in the way that she knew she was supposed to. Someone dies, you react with grief. That’s how it was in almost every culture out there. But Devorah knew Bell. And Devorah knew that she wouldn’t put on a show just to fit in with Devorah.

Mathilde was likely dead, and Bell was sad about it. Mathilde was likely dead and all Devorah could think about was another investigation starting.

“No,” Jacob gasped. “But we saw her last night at dinner. She was up, she was eating! She was gonna be fine!”

“I don’t think she’s fine, bro.” Brad shifted on his feet then wiped at his eyes.

In between coughs, Georgie managed to ask, “did it look like she died from her injuries?”

Brad shrugged. “I’m not a doctor, babe. I didn’t see her yet, either. Mathilde…” He paused, and his face scrunched up. “Her injuries? Did something happen?”

Jacob gripped the back of his neck, fear evident in his every little twitch and stutter. “After we… I ran into Mathilde and Kefilwe and Mathilde had an accident. With one of the traps. But Nour was taking care of her! And she looked like she was gonna get better!”

Brad shook his head. “Something like that happened to one of my lacrosse buddies. We were in training and the dude took a bad fall. He got right back up after, but after the game ended he learned his leg got mega fucked. Bro was still on crutches last time I saw him.” Brad offered a weak smile. “Was still able to do mad keg stands, though. It’s all in the core!”

“Yeah,” Jacob said, weak. “I think I need to throw up.”

He ran to the bathroom, leaving Brad with Georgie and Gabriel. Georgie’s coughing fit was subsiding, so Gabriel left her at the door to run after Jacob.

Georgie looked at Brad, and Brad looked at Georgie. She squinted at him, then said, “are you alright? Her death is a tragedy, of course, but you don’t look too good.”

Brad crumbled and latched onto a mystified Georgie. “I’m not okay!” He whimpered into Georgie’s shoulder. Georgie patted him on the back a few times. With their massive size difference, it looked remarkably uncomfortable. “My mom’s from the Philippines, so all that Catholic stuff is really important to her. Mathilde kind of reminded me of her and I miss her. I miss my mom, Georgie.” Tears began to fall, and Brad bunched up the bottom of his shirt and cried into it. “I want my mom!”

“You’ll see her again soon, promise,” Georgie offered, eyes wide.

Brad’s sobbing grew more desperate. “But what if someone murders me! My mom’ll never even know what happened!”

Georgie allowed herself a moment of panic, looking to the side for reassurance that wasn’t there. Bell made a sympathetic cooing sound, but Devorah just found a morbid humor in the situation.

Devorah was almost certain it wasn’t Mathilde’s injuries that killed her, but there was really only one way to find out. Either way, Jacob was much more anxious than Devorah thought he would be. But realistically, maybe this would help even his odds. Gain him some sympathy points from the viewers, or even the other members of the cast themselves.

If Devorah was going to pity anyone aside from poor, dead Mathilde, it would be Brad. He was a little dumb, but he had a good spirit. And with a snort, she decided she would pity Georgie too, for having to juggle all these men on top of her tuberculosis.

Eventually, Jacob returned from the bathroom with Gabriel nervously fretting behind him. Georgie was awkwardly patting Brad’s back, and the second her boys returned, she transferred Brad over to Gabriel.

“I’m going to go with Jacob to find the others, make sure everyone knows the three of us were together last night,” Georgie said with a cough, tucking her arm into Jacob’s elbow. He still looked queasy, but was markedly improved. “I have a feeling it wasn’t Jacob who did her in. With Mathilde all injured, it would be easy to strike a killing blow.”

Smart girl.

“Either way,” Georgie continued, “we have to make ourselves present. But Gabe, why don’t you and Brad take a minute to yourselves? Tell him about your mama and sisters, Gabe.”

Gabriel, looking a bit apprehensive, nodded. “You feeling homesick, Brad? Don’t you worry, everyone knows you didn’t do nothing to nobody. I’ll tell you about the homestead, and you can tell me about your mama, and then we can pray together for Miss Mathilde.”

Brad sniffled. “I’d like that. You’re one excellent dude, Gabe.”

“So are you, Brad,” he answered, a little out of his depth again, before beginning to weave a tale about horses and young cattle.

Devorah waved goodbye to Bell as Jacob and Georgie left them to their stories and their prayers. They set off down the hall, following a clear trail of loud arguing coming from the direction of the dining hall.

The investigation had begun.