Enclosed

Chapter Seventeen: Thump

Thump. 

Thump.

Thump.

Rose couldn't get the sound of Melanie's body hitting the metal table out of her head. 

Thump. 

Thump.

Thump.

The next few minutes were chaotic. Guards crashing in. Chairs overturning. Screams demanding an explanation. Doors slamming and a flabbergasted Al being drug out of the prison. 

"Al, are you okay?" Scorpius demanded. "What's going on?"

"They kicked me out. I'm fine. I'm outside the prison now." Al said winded. "We have a lot to discuss. I'm gonna need to get off this blasted island first. The guards are staring me down from the exit, so I need to go now before they decide to throw me in a cell. Be by the fireplace in 1 hour."

Scorpius jerked the ear away tossing it on the ground, like it was on fire. 

"Dammit." He muttered. Anxiously sweeping his hands through his blonde locks, he stood and began pacing around the room. "What do we do?" He looked to Rose for an answer.

Thump. 

Thump.

Thump.

Rose didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. What could she say? She'd just sat by while they coerced a vulnerable woman into sacrificing her life. The cause might have been worthy, but was it worth corrupting her morals? 

"Rose? Are you listening to me?" Scorpius crouched in front of her, forcing their eyes to connect. 

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

"We killed her."

"Rose," Scorpius said softly. 

"We killed her. Melanie is dead because we convinced her to help us. We can't let her sacrifice go to waste." Rose pushed off the couch and headed to the office. When the case was over, there'd be time to dwell. Now, they couldn't afford to waste time. They had a name and they needed to take action before a member of The Reformed took out Marcus.

It was a surprise they let him live this long.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

"Rose?" Scorpius called, "Where are you going? You can't shut yourself in your office. Let me help you," He followed behind, close on her heels.

She stopped abruptly, causing Scorpius to crash into her back. Rose elbowed him away, giving him a nasty glare. 

"Will you give me some space? I'll be right back."

Rose powered into her office. She'd done her best to tidy up earlier this morning, but evidence from another restless night was impossible to clean up. An empty dinner plate and silverware were placed to the side of the desk, with dirty napkins crumbled beside it. Pictures, sweet wrappers, books, parchment, apple cores, quills, cut-up strings of yarn, abandoned pins, and a blanket spread out on the floor. 

At least the top of her desk was clean.

Searching the floor, Rose found the file on Marcus. Admittedly, it was considerably smaller than her files from other victims. Marcus' case wasn't much different from the others. The only difference was that Rose was forced into protection just weeks after his attacks.