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@j-a-penrose Here’s mine! 😃 It’s kind of a continuation of last time’s. (Which was a random thing I did) Maybe I’ll eventually string together all our lessons into one story? 😜

“I do not help your kind. Not anymore.”

I swallow hard, and try again. “Sir Leo, I know I’m a mess. You probably are not impressed, but I swear, I am the real deal. I need your help.”

“I said,” he repeated, “I do not help your kind.”

“But what is that supposed to mean?” I exclaim, despair rising within me.

Sir Leo leans forward, his hands steepled and elbows on the table between us. Looking me straight in the eye, he replies, “It means I won’t help you. Now,” he pushes back from the table abruptly, “I believe that it is time for you to leave.”

I stand, my throat constricting. I can’t fail. If I leave here without his help… “Sir Leo,” I beg, my final attempt at this hard man, “so many people died last night. Don’t let that be in vain.”

Sir Leo’s face hardens. “Don’t you ever try to lecture me on sacrifice,” he hisses, turning his back on me and striding over to the window on the opposite wall – not that there’s much to see out there.

I turn, knowing that I’m done for as soon as I step out the door without any assistance.

Just as my fingertips brush on the doorknob, he says in a low voice, “Go to the doctor.”

I jerk my head up, standing straight. “The doctor?” I breathe, my heart beating faster at the prospect of assistance after all. “Who is that?”

“You will know,” he replies simply. “I will say no more. There are spies everywhere these days, Miranda.” His voice is weary.

“But we are in your office.”

“Go now, before I change my mind to help you and shoot you instead.”

I hear the rattle of a gun being set down on the table. So that window was for more than just the view.

With times as hard as they are now, I know that he’s not kidding about being willing to use the gun. “Thank you,” I say simply, turning the doorknob and stepping out of Sir Leo’s office.