Page 56 of Witness 8

Silent.

She dropped her hand away from the bell. Stared at the door. Yawned.

Took a moment to think.

Alison would answer the door. She always answered the door. These last few weeks, it had seemed as though every morning that Alison opened the door, a month had passed instead of twenty-four hours. The weight of her troubles was squashing her spine and drying her skin. The woman was aging at incredible speed. Crows’ feet clawed deeper into the skin around her eyes with every passing day. And that skin grew more pallid. Gray now, instead of her usual pink glow. It had occurred to Ruby that Alison now looked almost the same age as her mother – Esther.

She suddenly remembered that Alison rarely left the house.

She might not see it.

Ruby had to make her notice. And, for that to happen, Alison had to see something in Ruby. Some reaction. Ruby could not risk Alison failing to notice.

She pulled up the sleeve of her shirt, exposing her right wrist. Before Ruby did anything else, she took a second to scan the street. No one around. A quiet moment.

She had to be quick. Accurate. Silent.

Ruby bit into her right arm. Just above her wrist. Her teeth took hold of the flesh, pulled. She whimpered. The pain was intense. Ruby didn’t want to break the skin. That wouldn’t do. She just wanted the pain.

She bit down, harder.

Her eyes squeezed shut. Her fingers began to tremble. She pulled her wrist away, stretching the skin, and just when she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, she jerked her head up.

That did it.

Tears squirmed from her tightly shut eyes.

Ruby opened her mouth, wiped the saliva from her wrist and folded her shirt over the teeth marks, deep and already turning purple. There would be bruising for a few days at least. She had to remember to keep that arm covered.

Her cheeks were flushed and she felt her breath ragged.

Ruby hit the doorbell. Within thirty seconds, Alison opened the door. Her head bowed, eyes on the floor. Another day in hell for the woman married to the man accused of murder. Another day to suck the life right out of her.

Ruby didn’t move.

She stood on the top step. Her left arm cradling her wrist.

When Ruby didn’t step into the house right away, Alison glanced up.

‘Oh, Ruby, what’s wrong? You’re crying,’ said Alison with genuine concern in her voice.

Ruby said nothing.

She just stared at the front door.

Alison opened the door another few feet, and followed Ruby’s eyeline.

The door was painted a pale lilac. A brass knocker in the center of the door.

And scrawled across the door, in bright red spray paint – a single word.

MURDERER

Alison’s fingers flew to her lips as she staggered back a step. As if the word had wounded her. She let out her breath all at once, and sank to her knees. The strength had left her shaking legs.

Ruby had to act swiftly.

She wiped the tears from her face, and gently lifted Alison back to her feet.