The True Story of Emily Lockwood / g. karim

𝟚𝟛. 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

~ / Episode Seven - Part Two \ ~

"no time to die"

❀

--It was deafeningly quiet after the man cast his bid on the item. How badly did he want this? Emily recalled Penelope Fittes herself talking of 'investors'; was that their money he was spending to bid on cursed thing?

If Emily knew anything about the capitalist tendencies of post-Problem London, the answer was yes. 

"Going once. Going twice.." Winkman called out to the crowd. So far, no takers. Until - of course - someone bid higher. But no one had that many pounds to spend on a stupid mirror, not even with the Black Market. 

And the only person stupid enough in that room to lie about having that absurd, high allowance - was her brother. 

"Oh, shit," Emily curse under her breath, looking around for the raised paddle. 

"520. Thank you very much, sir," Winkman's tone was more than cordial - perhaps he didn't recall the boy he'd tortured only days prior. The mere thought of someone inflicting pain on her brother sent Emily's blood to a boil, even more so after seeing Winkman's grin. 

God, she couldn't wait to blow this all up. 

The only thing she was worried about, was the little children in the front row, who'd be closest to the blast. 

"550," a voice interrupted her thoughts. Winkman, calling out more drastically high numbers. Her brother was betting against Penelope's friend? 

Idiot, she thought dryly, trying to shift closer to try and catch a glimpse of him. In this sea of dark cloaks, however, the mere idea of finding him was impossible. Whatever he'd planned, it better work out. 

The wife leaned to whisper in her husband's ear, before taking a step back and smiling pleasantly at the crowd. Her face made Emily shudder involuntarily, imagining how they all must look like prey to her. Cat and sparrow. 

"Uh, gentlemen, your enthusiasm for this item exceed my expectations," he began nervously. "Might I ask that you approach and provide proof of means before we proceed?" 

"Just a formality, of course, gentlemen." The wife chimed in, as two figures approached the small podium on which the couple stood, along with the mirror in question. 

The first, Library Man, presented a small package of papers, much to the delight of the Winkmans. Her brother took a little while longer. Emily fumbled in her robe pocket for the flares he gave her, and tried to make her way to him. She was nearly diagonally across the room - too far. 

Mild panic set into her bones as she elbowed and clamored past bidders to try and get closer to him. 

"He's got a rapier! He's an agent!" A voice boomed, and Emily felt like she were made of ice, the fear was so thick. With renewed vigor, she pushed harder and tried to get closer. She had to make it to him, there was no other option.

There was a clamor, and she'd known they caught him. Her brother groaned in pain, something she'd heard from far enough away to know whoever had thrown that punch was bigger than he - much bigger.