Seeing that his accomplices were no longer in the picture, the young man began to tug at the latch more vigorously, as if it was on the verge of coming loose. Grace's sister walked up to him, causing him to tremble with fear. She pressed the latch, and the door swung open. Foris made a dash for freedom, but the mafiosa swiftly turned him around.
"Don't kill me," he pleaded, taking steps backward.
"Staring death in the face and still daring to beg?" the brunette replied tersely, her eyes flashing red. "Too late." I groaned and shook my head. She glanced at both me and Foris.
And then something happened that I couldn't fully grasp. Sister Mort kicked the leader to the floor, knocking him off his feet. He barely had time to react before a white scarf was tied over his mouth, silencing him instantly.
"Don't worry, it's a sedative," she said to me as she bound his mouth and hands. The girl pushed all of us into one stall and locked it tightly.
"He'll stay there for a while," she said with satisfaction, clapping her hands. I was almost fainting from the pain. The girl patted herself and came up to me.
I felt the first hints of death, or perhaps it was just exhaustion? The mafiosa patted my face.
"Hey, Carner? Are you alive?"
"A bit..." I gasped. "Feeling awful."
"Well, considering how beaten up you are, you're lucky you don't need a hospital. Otherwise, you'd have to start writing your will."
"Do you have any pills to prevent fainting?" I asked, sliding down from the wall. The mafiosa chuckled and lifted me up. My clothes were hanging on me like rags, torn and tattered, and my glasses were shattered. I could see things not very clearly, but at least not too blurry. I walked over to the sink to wash away the blood mixed with dirt. The brunette kept her eyes on me, leaning against the partition.
I could taste blood on my lips, and a strong urge to sleep overwhelmed me. My body was in tremendous pain, and my legs were barely supporting me. Thank goodness they hadn't turned off the water supply in this restroom. I held my hands under the icy stream.
"You've got bruises and wounds all over your body. Luckily, no fractures," she remarked. I blushed and turned away. After all, I was here with a girl. She didn't catch on immediately.
"There should be a first aid kit somewhere around. There's one in every restroom, if I recall correctly," the brunette said.
"On the top shelf," I informed her.
"You need to bind your shoulder," the mafiosa noted. "You can do that in one of the stalls. And you could also work on your body a bit."
She suddenly pulled something black and a small white container out of her bag.
"Take it," I accepted it, and it turned out to be a black hoodie.
"Is this yours?" I asked, surprised. She nodded.
"Yes, I was supposed to go on a mission... there's also a black cap. But I see you need it more." She took an e-cigarette from her pocket, extracted a white cigarette from it, and filled the device with water.
"You don't smoke?" I exclaimed.
"I would never smoke," she laughed and smirked. "This thing might explode in his hands."
"How did you find out I would be here?" I blurted out.
"I knew you'd be here," she replied shortly. My eyes widened. What?!
"When he handed you the note, I pretended to be asleep. I should have said something, but I was immediately called away, so I barely managed to get you out."
"I see... I understand," I stammered. "Will you leave so I can change?"
"You can't go to class looking like this," the brunette explained. "Get yourself together, and take those tablets with you."
"I don't have anything to give you for these. How will I repay you?" I raised an eyebrow. She smiled mischievously.
"Just think of it as a favor for Grace. He wouldn't want his friend to die so soon," she said, her gaze tinged with mockery. "Besides, these tablets are part of a military experiment. A few words from my friend, and I had them."
"Yes, are you alright?"
"No," she snapped. "Not too thrilled to have my father's son from another mother show up so soon."
I took the tablet and washed it down with water. I immediately felt relief; my head no longer hurt as much, and my wounds seemed less painful.
"What did you give me?" I gasped.
"Just pain relief, not narcotics," she replied. "My best friend gives me this for dangerous missions." The girl took my shattered glasses and gave me another pill, which I swallowed with water. My vision improved in a matter of seconds. That meant only one thing – the tablets were effective. I squinted and rubbed my eyes, looking in the mirror.
A couple of days ago, I wouldn't have let anyone touch my glasses, let alone hold them. My glasses were essentially my eyes. Break or lose my glasses, lose my sight. I didn't yet know how horrifying it was to be blind, but I had almost reached it a few times.
"Take this," the mafiosa took out a comb from her bag and placed it by me on the sink. I looked at it in surprise.
"What? Why?"
"You're not going to class like this," the brunette explained. "Comb your hair, and take the tablets with you."
"No need, I can just fix it," I started to brush my golden curls with my hand, but they only got tangled up.
"Expecting Grace," she remarked and closed her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She looked at me, seeming to bid farewell.
Suddenly, I blurted out, "Um, Miss Mort! What's your real name?" even though I knew perfectly well.
"It's better you don't know," the mafiosa's cold voice replied. "You know my name. Just mine." Her gaze rested on me, and shivers ran down my spine.
"Alright, can I call you by your real name then?"
The girl regarded me suspiciously, as if contemplating something.
"Take another tablet for better vision," the mafiosa suggested. "During the next break, ask Grace to take care of your wounds. If it gets worse... ask to go home."
The brunette grabbed the latch and asked, "What's my name?"