The Widow's Daughter ✔︎

Chapter Twenty-Nine

We arrived at Daley's Bridge at midday. We paid the old bus driver and hopped off the bus, breathing in the fresh country air. The sun was beaming down on the frost-bitten pastures and a gentle brook bubbled underneath a dry stone bridge. It looked like a scene out of the Three Billy Goat's Gruff - beautiful and picturesque. Ben actually peered under the bridge to check if there were any trolls there. When he was satisfied that Daley's Bridge was sufficiently troll-less, he ran down to the stream and started to play with the cool water.

"I'm hungry," Evie moaned, rubbing her stomach. "We haven't eaten since last night!" She looked at me. I was peering over the side of the bridge at Ben, who was squealing with delight as a frog jumped out of the babbling brook. "Did you bring any food?"

"I did," I grumbled. "But, if you noticed, all of our backpacks exploded when the jet blew up."

"And whose fault was that?" Evie looked skeptical, her ponytail blowing in the breeze.

I was about to burst into a long winding explanation about how the exploding jet plane wasn't my fault when Peter zoomed in and said, "guys, don't be mean. Evie, it's not Kira's fault that the plane blew up. Kira, don't be grumpy to Evie. We're all hungry but that doesn't mean we have to be mean to one another. We're all in this together, right?"

"Return of the Zac Efron," I muttered, while Evie grumbled sarcastically, "Yes, dad." 

Peter beamed. "OK, that's settled then! We're all friends again. That's great!"

Suddenly, a hand grasped my shoulder. I squealed and whipped around, grabbing the someone in a fierce arm lock, my arm around their neck and their head tucked under my chin. "Move and you die," I hissed into their ear.

Evie and Peter shrieked. "OH MY GOD KIRA!" my sister yelled, while Peter grabbed me and screamed, "LET THE OLD LADY GO!"

...Let the old lady go...?

Oh no.

The somebody's breathing was fast and sharp in my ear. I hurriedly let them go and they stumbled back, wheezing, Peter catching them. They massaged their throat and I gasped when they looked up. 

It was a frail old woman with strands of wispy white hair tucked under a bonnet wrapped around her head. She looked like every generic loving grandmother - she had a kind, lined face that was a bit pudgy from baking (and eating) too many cookies and a pair of glasses hung off her nose.

I mentally slapped myself. I'd just strangled a freaking old lady.

"Oh my goodness, ma'am," I spluttered, not believing what I'd just done. Ben ran up from the stream and gasped, slapping his hands over his mouth. "I'm so terribly sorry... please forgive me... oh my god..." I was bright red. 

"That was quite a grip you had me in there, lass!" the old lady croaked from her place in Peter's arms. She smiled gently at him and I felt like if I jumped off the bridge right now, nobody would miss me. "Thank you, dear. You're quite the young gentleman."

"I'm so sorry," I gasped. "I can't believe I just... um..."

"...Strangled a weak old lady?" the woman chuckled. Evie looked like she was about to faint.

I felt my stomach drop. "Uh. Yep. Sorry."

"It's quite all right, lass." The old lady's face was kind as she smiled at me. "A beautiful young dear like yourself has to be prepared for every occasion! Tell me, dear, did your father teach you that move?"

"Uh." I flushed. "No. My mum did. She's kinda... a martial arts expert."

Evie snorted behind me. "Understatement of the century." Ben whacked her with his hat to shut her up and Peter glared at her.