THE LAST HOUR OF SEVEN BELLS
The Return
The precinct was quiet when they arrived.
The third floor was empty, the desks abandoned, the phones silent. The night shift had gone home. The day shift had not yet arrived. Only the night janitor remained, pushing a mop across the worn linoleum floors, humming a tune that Nora did not recognize.
She walked to her desk.
She sat down.
The photograph of Lena was still in her pocket. She could feel its edges pressing against her thigh, a reminder of everything she had lost, everything she had buried, everything she had yet to face.
Miles sat across from her.
His hands were still cuffed.
She had not uncuffed him.
She was not ready.
“The captain will be here soon,” she said.
“I know.”
“She’ll want answers.”
“I know.”
“What will you tell her?”
He was silent for a long moment.
“The truth.”
The truth.
Such a simple word. Such a complicated weight.
Nora had spent fifteen years running from the truth. Fifteen years hiding from it. Fifteen years pretending it didn’t exist.
Now it was sitting across from her, wearing her partner’s face, asking her to listen.
“The night Lena died,” Miles said, “I was supposed to meet her at the cabin. We had been seeing each other for months. Secretly. She didn’t want you to know.”
“Why not?”
“She was afraid you wouldn’t approve.”
“Of what?”
“Of us. Of me. Of her happiness.”
Nora’s throat tightened.
“I would have approved.”
“I know. That’s why she was afraid.”
The words didn’t make sense.
Nora frowned.
“If you would have approved, why was she afraid?”
“Because she didn’t think she deserved to be happy. She didn’t think she deserved you. She didn’t think she deserved anyone.”
“That’s not true.”
“It was true to her. And that’s what matters.”
Miles leaned back in his chair.
The cuffs clinked against the armrest.
“I got to the cabin late. Traffic. A flat tire. I don’t remember. What I remember is the door being open. The lights being off. The silence.”
“What did you find?”
“Her. On the floor. Already gone. No pulse. No breath. No hope.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“Because I was scared. Because I was young. Because I was stupid.”
“You were young. You were scared. You were not stupid.”
“I was all three.”
Captain Thorne arrived at 7:00 AM.
She stood in the doorway of the bullpen, her eyes moving from Nora to Miles to the cuffs on his wrists.
“Someone want to explain what’s going on?”
Nora stood.
Her legs were weak.
Her voice was steady.
“Miles is the Bellman.”
Thorne’s face went pale.
“The Bellman?”
“The one who called me. The one who set the bells. The one who knew about Lena.”
“And the victims?”
“Were collateral. They were never the target.”
“Then who was?”
Nora looked at Miles.
He looked at her.
“Me,” she said.