As the youngest Shelby child and twin to Finn Shelby, Kezia has spent the last 4 of her 10 years locked away for her mental defectiveness.
She returns to Small Heath under the legal guardianship of her brother, Thomas Shelby. Despite knowing she's s...
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Writing about Tommy's grief is quite a challenge for me. He's so detached from his emotions most of the time. There is also often a build-up of grief before you feel it properly. This is where we are with him.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
Arthur was on his way to the hospital when he got the phone call. From Ozzy.
Heard Tommy and sirens in the background. He demanded to put his brother on the phone...but Tommy wasn't speaking to anyone. Not until they got to the morgue.
Arthur had launched himself off the stretcher. His throat burned from nearly choking to death. But his skin burned more. Every cell in his body turned ice-cold. Ozzy was lying. Kizzie wasn't dead. And he needed to speak to Tommy to prove the boy wrong.
But once in the morgue, the smell of death and antiseptic had him thinking twice. Just as he did with news of John.
John boy and Kizzie girl.
Arthur stopped. His hand on the wall shook. Lights overheard were too bright. He needed to turn around. Go home and go to sleep and when he woke up, this would all be a terrible, horrible fucking nightmare.
In the hysterics on the phone, maybe Arthur confused Kizzie with someone else's name. Someone else laid dead on a slab. Kizzie was safe.
He removed his hand. "Okay," he whispered and reached into his breast pocket to pull out a vial of snow. The drug sent every point on his body rigid. It was enough to get him through the door.
Tommy stood, at the furthest end. Covered bodies scattered the way to him.
Another body, without a blanket, loomed under the harsh light. Tommy did not acknowledge Arthur's approach. His hands trembled against the edge of the metal gurney. The body, Arthur could see now, wasn't much of a body anymore. It has been burned all the way through to bone. Bits of flesh hung like cobwebs. The stench saturated the room. The skull did not have eyes anymore, or lips. The gaping mouth hung open, revealing charred front teeth. But it was the hair that had Arthur stop.
"No," he mumbled. "No."
Singed curls spiraled from the burned scalp. The same texture and length as Kizzie's.
Arthur turned for the exit and lost his balance. He collapsed onto the ground. Cries from deep in his belly echoed the room, reverberating throughout his body. "No..." he cried. "Kizzie girl."
Tommy remained motionless. It was infuriating.
"Thomas!" Arthur stood. "Cover her!"
"No." His voice was darkened. Like thick tar. "Look at her."
"I fucking did!"
"I'm not done yet."
Arthur walked to the slab, careful to keep eyes away from his burned sister's body. "What the fuck happened? Aye?"
