Chapter 42 - Leavi

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When about to get caught in the act, there are always many solutions to the problem

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When about to get caught in the act, there are always many solutions to the problem. Deny it, plead for forgiveness, roll with it... Taking off my shirt never entered my mind. Apparently, however, it's at least in Sean's top ten because that's exactly what he does before Marcí walks in. When she enters, Sean is reclining bare-chested among ruffled blankets and rumpled pillows. A startled exclamation cuts off her flow of words as her wide eyes dart between me and him. Her cheeks speckle scarlet.

My expression is surely similar as I sputter, "Missus Marcí, this—"

Marcí waves her hand, forestalling any explanation. Eyes trained on the ground, she says, "I really don't want to know. Really don't. In fact, I so much don't want to know, why don't we just talk about something else entirely? For example, what I came up here to discuss. Miss Leavi, why don't we head downstairs? Mr. Sean can join us in a moment." She nods once and leaves.

I turn and stare at Sean like he's insane.

Languidly, he stands, smirking. "Well that worked, didn't it?"

I pick up his shirt and pitch it at him, hoping for a satisfying smack. Instead, he ducks, and it knocks over the candlestick holder on the bedside table. The metal clatters to the ground. From the landing, Marcí calls, "Is everything alright in there?"

"Yes," Sean calls back unconcernedly. "Be down in a moment."

"Well. Come along, Miss Leavi."

I edge toward the door and hiss, "Hide him."

"Where?" he whispers back. "Out the window? He'll be fine as long as he stays quiet and the landlady doesn't come back up here." He turns to the blanket-covered boy. "Stay quiet," he commands in Avadelian, "and don't move." Then he turns back to me. "And you need to go before the woman gets suspicious." I press my lips together, giving one last glance to our hidden fugitive.

I slip out, Sean following a few moments after. Marcí waits for us in the dining room. After we enter, she draws the double doors on either side of the room closed. For once, she's unnervingly quiet, looking between the two of us. "Well," she finally says. "Aren't you going to sit? That is what the chairs are for."

Confused, I do. Sean leans against the wall.

A hand comes to rest on Marcí's hip, a frown creasing her lips. "I have been more than generous with the two of you. Letting you come into my house, eat at my table, sleep in my beds. I expect a bit of respect in return. Please," she emphasizes, eyeing Sean, "sit."

He hesitates, then slides into a chair beside me.

She nods, stepping forward. Her hands rest on the back of a chair. "So, I just had two very interesting visitors come to the house. Would you like to guess who they were?"

From Sean's pocket, a clock ticks in the silence.

"No? I am surprised! Well, how about I give you a hint? In fact, you might even know them, considering you work together. Or, at least, you used to. They seemed to be under the impression that you'd up and quit, no word, no anything." She raises her brows in a falsely innocent and inquisitive expression. "Do you know why that might have happened? No? Oh, and I haven't even gotten to telling you who they were yet. Silly me."

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