We took the trolley to Edelfelt’s workshop. It was a three story building squished between two factories in an industrial park south of the hospital. A single red garage door spanned across the entire wall of the ground floor. The white “Firehouse” text on the door had a black line painted over, and big black letters spelled out “Edelfelt’s Shop” above it. Grimmington had asked a nurse to inform Emily she should stay with Bò for the time being, in case Connor were to show up.

Edelfelt held a metal box the size of a cigarette package with a big red button and a metal rod extending out its front in his hand. He pressed the button, the garage door slowly opened.

“Woooo,” Ri gasped in amazement.

“Qvite convenient, nein?” Edelfelt said.

“A device that makes people lazy,” Grimmington rolled his eyes.

A four wheeled vehicle revealed itself once the garage door had opened. A chimney stuck out its roof. Edelfelt’s workshop was similar to that of Grimmington’s, albeit larger in size and filled with tools rather than firearms.

“I already haf my contending inventchon ready, I call it zee ‘Fumauto,’” Edelfelt said, “I’ll moof it out of zee schop.”

He removed the wooden blocks in front of the wheels that kept them from rolling, then attempted to push it out onto the cobbled road. It wouldn’t budge. Grimmington, Ri, Mike, and Fu all joined in on helping to push. I watched them roll the Fumauto out of the shop.

“Zhere, now you haf plenty of schpace to build. Let me know if you’re looking for anyzing in particular,” Edelfelt said.

“You three can help me here,” Grimmington told Ri, Mike, and Fu, “Leah, I don’t have a job for you, so if you want, feel free to return to the restaurant. We seem to have forgotten the trunk.”

Not so sure I wanted to go back there, but the trunk contained our most valuable assets.

“Should we really send her off on her own?” Mike asked, “think of what happened last time.”

“You mean the time she managed just fine, and is still breathing to this day?” Grimmington replied.

“It’s not a big deal, just get the trunk and come back. Easy,” I said.

I took the trolley back, all alone. It had gotten late, the streets were quiet. There was a cart drawn by a single black horse parked outside Ristorante il Piacere. The driver sat in silence holding the reins with his black leather gloves. Couldn’t tell where he was looking because of the shadow cast by his round hat onto the dimmed glass in the eye sockets of his beak-like mask. Only the beak itself was not hidden in darkness, all crimson red sticking out like a sore thumb in contrast to the black robe he wore under his shoulder cape of the same leather as the gloves that seemed to absorb all light emitted by the street lamp above. The bell rung as the door was pushed open by the back of a black-beaked figure, he backed out of the restaurant carrying something rolled up in a white cloth. A second black-beak emerged carrying the other end of the cloth. They positioned themselves parallel to the cart, then swung the cloth back and forth, gaining momentum.

Toss. It landed on top of a pile of other cloths with a sound I had heard before; the sound of a little girl’s corpse landing on another one under Harald’s office. Those must’ve been the customers who hadn’t been as lucky as me.

Didn’t find the trunk inside. No Connor or peg-leg either, only dry red stains on the carpeted floor, as if everyone had flipped glasses of wine upside down before running off. I knew that wasn’t the case, but I could always pretend.

“Excuse me, uh, did any of you happen to see two guys walking out of here with a trunk?” I asked the beak masks who had now climbed onto the cart seat on either side of the driver. They didn’t acknowledge my presence. The reins whipped, and the cart took off.

Left all alone, and wanting to check up on Bò, I headed towards the hospital. Maybe Connor and peg-leg had made their way there, I thought. The traffic officer no longer stood in the second intersection. Having been too busy inspecting Edelfelt’s attire, I could not recall whether we took the left or right street to the hospital. Right is always right. The buildings did not look familiar, but that was because I could actually see them, I told myself, the street was too crowded last time, only allowing me to see the torsos of people right in front of me.

After walking for ten minutes, I began to question whether left could’ve been right this once. Hearing another pair of footsteps behind me, I picked up the pace, not daring to look back. The other footsteps did too. I felt watched. Vulnerable. Followed. All the stores were closed, nowhere to hide. Didn’t know if my heavy breathing was from exhaustment or fear. It was awkward walking faster than most people jog, but the footsteps kept up with me.

Fuck it. I ran, thinking I knew the way back to Edelfelt’s Shop. Turns out, that wasn’t the case. I took a shortcut through an alley, more difficult for the footsteps to follow me in the dark. I stopped in the dark, and listened. Not a sound, other than the blood pulsing through my ears, and whistling of my nostrils with every breath.

It grabbed my collar.

“What are you doing out at this hour, young lady?” a voice asked.

I kicked backwards with all my force like a startled horse, taking no chances. My heel struck right where I wanted it to; in between the man’s legs, just below the belt. He let out a scream that must’ve been heard all across the city. I spun around to face him, grabbing the Schofield from its holster in the process. Having been smart enough to load it before getting off the ship, I cocked the gun. My eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the darkness. He was only a silhouette illuminated from behind by the lights on the street we had come from.

“What do you want from me?!” I yelled.

“Miss, is that a gun? Put it down! Agh, where are your parents?”

Dead. Gone. Never to be seen again. I reluctantly replayed the scene in my head. The one of father’s head opening up like a smashed pumpkin turned inside out. Mother’s face when the red splatter hit her. Having been unable to prevent it. Unable to do anything, anything at all.

“You should be in bed right now!” the silhouette said.

In bed? With him? My sister’s screams filled my ears. I found myself back in that room, pinned to the ground. My sister on that bed, a sight I could never unsee, forever engraved in my memory. The shard jammed in Bobby’s throat. Bill’s gargling. I wanted it to go away, I wanted to forget.

Bang. Got him dead center where his ribs met his belly.

“Wh.. why..?” he seemed almost disappointed of what I had just done.

That night I learned one cannot shoot memories out of existence, only people.