Page 166 of Burn Like An Angel

“They’re just chatting shit for the views.” Lennox is trying to placate her, though his voice lacks any hope.

“We can never go public.”

“Rip…”

“No matter what I threatened my uncle with.” She ignores him. “If we aren’t silent for the rest of our lives, we’ll face the same public lynching as these patients.”

None of us can offer Ripley any comfort. Not when the irrevocable proof of what she fears is staring us all in the face. The regime that ruined our lives is falling apart at this very moment, but it changes nothing.

We’re still outsiders.

Misfits. Rejects.

That’s all we’ll ever be.

“Do you think we’ll be free now?” Raine changes the topic.

Sitting next to him, Lennox is pushing cold toast around his plate. “That seem likely to you?”

“Well, I don’t know. Bancroft is the head of the snake. If Sabre is apprehending him, the rest of his empire will follow, right?”

“It isn’t that simple,” I butt in. “We have other enemies.”

“But if the truth is being dragged into the light, they can apprehend everyone who funded Incendia’s evil for so long,” Raine states like it’s simple. “Including Jonathan.”

In theory, that’s how it should work. Yet we all know the wheels of justice turn slowly, and in the case of mass-scale corruption and decades’ worth of high-level bribery, they turn even slower.

Laying a hand on Raine’s arm, Lennox’s stare is fixed on Ripley. She’s twisted in her seat at the table to see the TV better, her charcoal-stained fingers drumming nervously on her folded arms.

We’re all on edge, but she’s worryingly calm. Her only anxious tic is the twitching of her fingers. It’s like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t trust this supposed ending, but Ripley trusts it even less.

Hours pass sluggishly without an update. Lennox cleans up from breakfast, wasting time making endless cups of tea and coffee that sit untouched while Raine has coaxed Ripley onto the sofa to rest.

“Now let’s take a look back at the history of Britain’s privately-funded psychiatric care, commencing in 1984 with the opening of…”

“Enough,” Lennox snaps, grabbing the remote. “We can’t listen to this crap all day long.”

“Stop!” Ripley shouts at him.

“Come on, Rip. This isn’t healthy.”

“What else do you expect me to do? Sit here and wait for news?”

“I expect you to stop digging yourself a mental hole!”

Knocking pounds on our front door, making us all collectively freeze. The loud banging comes again. Louder. More frenzied. Someone is trying to break our goddamn door down.

Lennox drops the remote, his posture stiffening as he launches into battle mode. I shove back the kitchen chair to stand, my eyes focused on the corridor leading out of the apartment.

“Stay with Raine,” I bark at Ripley. “We’ll see who it is.”

She moves to Raine, fists clenched. “Be careful.”

I bend over to roll my jeans up, pulling the stashed pocketknife from its hiding place. Lennox raises an eyebrow before quickly moving to pull a meat cleaver from the kitchen block.

I gape at him. “Are you for real?”

“What?” He shrugs.

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