Y O U R C R U C I B L E
"May you be in heaven a full half hour before the devil knows you're dead."
Lottie Thorne, sister of the notorious Freddie Thorne, is counted as part of the Shelby family. And her loyalty is...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You should leave, Lottie. Nothing you can do now"
Lottie spent the rest of the day alone in her apartment. She hated the silence, used to Freddie talking about his plans, Ada and any news he had heard. She prayed he was somewhere safe.
Exhausted, she ended up falling asleep on her armchair until there was a loud knocking at her door. Pulling herself up, she opened it to see Curly panting, drenched from the rain. "Curly, what is it?" She gasped.
"The horse! The beautiful horse! Must tell Tom!" He exclaimed.
"I'll find him, you go back to the stables, do what you can," she instructed.
Nodding, Curly hurried off. Lottie, shut the door, grabbed her long grey trench coat that used to be Freddie's when he was younger. It was her favourite, despite it being worn and a little tattered. And then she sprinted to Tommy's house. The rain was tipping outside and she was instantly soaked the moment she stepped out, but she didn't stop.
When she finally arrived, she hammered on the door. "Tommy! Tommy!" She shouted over the thundering of the rain. Tommy's curtain was pulled to the side. "Tommy! You have to come quick! The horse!" She shouted.
Within minutes, Tommy opened the front door, his hat pulled over his eyes to shield himself from the rain. The two of them ran to the stables where Curly was nursing the horse.
The horse held it's front right hoof off the ground, clearly in pain. Lottie crouched to examine it, but it looked bad. Tommy looked to Curly. "Curly, tell me," he said.
"It's a curse, Tom," he replied, before he began to hyperventilate. Lottie looked up at them, worried.
"Curly. Curly, Curly. Shh. Curly," Tommy said, trying to calm him. "Tell me. Tell me, Curly. What's wrong with the horse?"
"You brought it at the fair in bad feeling," he explained. "The Lees put a bad seed in the hoof. Got an old woman to put a spell!"
Tommy turned back to the horse. "So, those Lee bastards cursed him," he muttered, depressed.
"Whatever it is, it looks like an infection that could spread to the other feet," examined Lottie.
"It's going to his heart tomorrow, I'd say," exclaimed Curly.
Tommy ran his hands through his hair. He hated killing horses - hated it. Rather kill ten people than kill a single horse.
