The Siren at the Museum (The Girl Who Sang #1)

Chapter 22: Epilogue

The early afternoon sun slanted through the Atrium, painting the white granite columns with bright patches of gold, the green of the creeping vines climbing the pillars and the red of their flowers were shining spots of vibrant color in the great monochromatic space. Little shoes squeaked against the smooth, polished floor, the high-pitched tumble of voices from the gathering crowd of children echoed through the open air, and the gentle corrections of the occasional parent were lost in the noise and confusion. Multi-colored cushions had been arranged in a deep, layered arc to face two chairs set side by side in front of the South Window Wall, one of which was occupied by a slender woman with long auburn hair that glimmered in the afternoon sun. She smiled and waved as two children ran up to greet her. Amity held a small stack of books to her chest as she leaned forward, listening intently to the pair of children tell her about the birds they saw on their walk to the Museum. She smiled and cooed and encouraged them to look for more animals on your way home, and tell me about them next week! while a red-eyed shadow lurking under her chair grumbled.

"Oh, King," she hushed the border collie at her ankles with a soft word and a light scratch between his bone-white ears, "Don't scare away the little ones." She looked out at the small sea of bright eyes and gap-toothed smiles, and felt a spreading warmth in her heart at the sight of all these people here for Luz—and for her too, of course. But mostly Luz, she knew without a doubt. She could tell the children enjoyed listening to her read, but they loved the enthusiasm that her better half would bring. Luz just had a way with people that Amity found fascinating, a way to open her heart and connect with those around her that the pale woman still struggled to emulate. One day, Amity thought.

The dog lifted his head from the floor and focused his eyes on a brown-haired man with glasses and a patch of hair on his chin who sorried! and shoved his way through the wall of milling parents around the seated children, heading toward the woman. King growled and when Amity looked up to see who was approaching, she quickly reminded her companion, "No biting."

She folded her hands over the books in her lap as the man neared, breathless and sweaty in his threadbare tweed sport coat. "Jacob Hopkins, Gravesfield Reporter!" He declared as he held out his hand. Amity raised an unimpressed eyebrow to stare at the hand bobbing slowly in the air in front of her face, then she turned her eyes up to watch the man falter under her continued scrutiny; he reached into his inner jacket pocket and King lurched to his feet, bristling and growling. The man froze, "Uh... I'm just— m-my phone?" He squeaked, and the dog sat silent when Amity laid a slender hand on King's head. The man somehow took that as permission to speak; he pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to tap at its screen, "I have some questions for you, Miss Blight: when the Wailing Star—"

"I am about to read to these children," Amity arched an eyebrow as she fixed the man with a frigid glare. "Be sure to update my contact information when you leave," she lifted her left hand to motion him away toward the Rotunda, a glint of gold shining on her finger.

His voice took a petulant, whining tone, "But I've not been able to schedule an interview, and you're here now, so—"

"I am otherwise occupied, Mr. Hopkins," She raised her chin as she tapped a finger on her books, looking down her nose at the man, "Contact my sister's office at your convenience." Amity's voice was firm, unyielding.

"I just have a few questions about Odalia Bli—"

i said good day, sir.

Amity's eyes had hardened to a silver sheen that left the man shaking and stuttering apologies as he hurried away. "See?" She smiled down at King, who licked his lips and looked up at her golden eyes, "We use our words, not our teeth." They watched the man disappear into the crowd before she leaned over to add, "He would have given you a stomach ache."