J ENNY’S APARTMENT WAS sparse but you could tell
that the few items she did own were not cheap: an
$800 painting of Italian street fare that stood nearly
floor-to-ceiling, two pieces of stylish furniture, and
sleek appliances. Her place was also compulsively
clean for someone with a cooking hobby.
Levi could smell the stir-fried vegetables even from
underneath the sink. His mouth watered as he
tightened a loose pipe with his wrench. Jenny moved
around the kitchen like a professional, swiftly and
carefully — gingerly stepping over his protruding legs
to reach a wooden spoon on the opposite counter. Levi
was a little sad that he’d fixed her leaky sink in only a
couple of minutes. He enjoyed spending time around
her but now his work was finished — and early.
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With her back facing him, Jenny didn’t realize that
Levi had returned to his feet already. She spun around
with a hot cast-iron skillet, which she held with a thick
oven mitt. Startled by his proximity, she let the skillet
slip out of her hand to keep it from hitting his
stomach. In a flash, Levi caught the skillet with his
bare hand.
He saw her gasp and instantly felt badly for having
caused her to jump.
“It’s okay,” he joked. “You weren’t expecting me to fix
it so quickly. Honest mistake.” Levi smiled to ease her
jittering nerves but her wide-eyed expression remained.
Her hand covered her mouth to stifle a scream; Levi
didn’t comprehend her frozen reaction. It was just a
near miss, no big deal.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
He then followed her eyes down to his hand, still
clasped around the edge of the sizzling skillet. He had
been holding it for several seconds, unfazed. Now he
understood the reaction. Levi cautiously set the skillet
back onto the stove and surveyed his blistered,
reddened hand.
Like a worried mother Jenny instinctively grabbed
his arm, drenched a towel, and wrapped it around his
burned hand.
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“Oh my god, Levi! Look what happened to you! I’m so
sorry!”
“It’s okay,” he said calmly. “I’m fine. Just a little red,
that’s all.”
“Look at your hand! How are you so calm right now?
We need to get you to the emergency room!”
“No, no — it’s really nothing. I can’t feel much of
anything in that hand.”
“How is it possible that you didn’t feel that?” she
asked.
“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied.
“Long or short, I think I’m curious.”
Levi sat down casually at her small breakfast nook
and allowed his mind to drift back to the labor camp.
Jenny noticed a troubled look in his eyes as Levi
debated the prospect of sharing any stories from that
place — especially with a woman like Jenny. He knew
better than to hold out hope for gaining some kind of
romantic interest from her – it wasn’t that; it was just
that, talking about the prison camp to anyone who
hadn’t been there would be a hard picture to paint. He
had lost seven years of his life to that hellish place and
though he was no longer its captive, his soul remained
scarred from the experience.
But Jenny’s curious gaze remained. He began in a
low tone. “At Hinnom Valley, the inmates were divided
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into groups. I was originally with the sweepers. We
were tasked with shoveling away busted rock from the
quarry. One night, around ten, I saw a guard getting
overly aggressive with one of the breakers — they were
the ones who would smash the rocks. The guy wasn’t
doing anything wrong, just slowing down a bit. What
do you expect at the end of a twelve-hour day? I
ignored it at first, but then the guard started to smack
him around, just really trying to embarrass him and
get under his skin. I walked over and gently — or so I
thought — grabbed the guard’s hand when he pulled
back to strike.”
Levi paused for a moment to consider his words and,
not coming up with a gentle way to say it, continued
describing the incident.
“I remember the sound of bones breaking and feeling
his hand sort of crumble under my grip, but not much
else. I quickly ran back to my post when I saw other
guards rushing over to the one I’d mangled, who by
that time was spazzing out and rolling around on the
ground.”
Jenny gulped. “So the guards smashed your hand in
retaliation?”
“Not exactly,” Levi replied. “They were afraid from
that point on. Most of them had seen me fight on TV;
but now they had just seen me drop a guy without
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even punching him. They did retaliate though, by
switching my post with the breaker I’d rescued from
humiliation.”
Jenny noticed him rubbing that hand as he spoke.
“The cleanup crew was hard work, but nothing like
what I experienced breaking rock. Being right handed,
that’s the hand that took most of the abuse. Slamming
the pick axe into cement and asphalt for hours on end
made for some interesting friction. The nerves in my
hands are pretty much shot.”
Jenny removed a bottle of baby oil from her purse
and reached over to Levi, pulling his hand closer. She
gently unfolded his rough fingers and massaged the oil
into his scorched palm.
“Do you feel this? Can you feel the oil?”
Levi smiled and nodded. “I can feel the pressure of
your touch, but just barely.”
“That’s a shame,” she replied. “This is one of my
more useful skills.” Her words, and perhaps the
gesture itself, had quieted Levi. She noticed. “I bet
you’re glad to be out of that place,” she said.
“The time away was rough, but at least I knew what
to expect day to day.”
“Don’t tell me you prefer it back there.”
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“No, I wouldn’t say that. Having all this freedom is
nice, but the life I’ve returned to isn’t the one I
remember leaving behind.”
“In what way?”
“Things change,” he said. “I had a girl but she moved
on. I thought I had friends but after going away, none
of them came to visit or bothered to send letters. Once
the prestige and money were gone… so were they.”
“It’s hard to trust people, isn’t it?”
“That’s an understatement,” he said with a smile.
Levi thought about K.S., his mysterious ally. He
knew there was a power at work that he didn’t
understand, but he had not yet determined if that
power had his best interest at heart. After all, K.S.
hadn’t been much help with the enemy at his door.
Or had he?
Levi wasn’t clear on what kind of protection K.S. was
offering, or for how long it would continue.
“I do trust one person,” he admitted, causing Jenny
to feel slightly flattered. “At least for now.” But Levi
himself wasn’t sure whether he was talking about
Jenny or K.S. Trust had become an issue these days,
and he half-trusted both of them. In his busted math,
that equation was balanced.
“What about you?” he asked. “You know my life’s
story; let’s even the score.”
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“Oh no, I’m not interesting,” she said, blushing.
“I doubt that very highly.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Where you from? Did you go to college?”
“I’m from here, I guess,” she said. “I did go to college,
yes.”
An awkward silence settled between them.
“You were married,” he half-guessed softly.
Jenny straightened her posture and said, “How do
you know that?”
“Your finger. It still shows.”
Jenny looked down at the impression of a ring on her
finger.
“Ah. Right.” She released a quiet breath, her
shoulders sinking. “I still wear it inside the house, but
not around people. They’d think I was weird or
something.”
“I don’t think it’s weird,” he said.
Jenny felt herself becoming emotional and looked
away.
“He died, didn’t he?”
Jenny sniffled and nodded.
“Cancer. It was sudden. I didn’t know how to deal
with that. We were both so young and… to be a widow
at thirty just feels kind of absurd.”
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Levi rubbed her knee as a gesture of comfort, but
then thought it might seem a bit forward, and backed
off.
“How did you know my husband was dead?”
“Oh,” he said, nearly blushing himself. “It’s not
important.”
“Answer the question.”
He flashed a grin, hoping she wouldn’t take this the
wrong way. “Because,” he said, “I don’t believe a man
could ever leave you.”
Jenny offered him a half-smile of her own. “I could’ve
left him,” she joked.
“Naw, you’re the type that sticks. I can tell.”
• • •
Levi made his way down the stairs of the apartment
building, utility bag safely slung over one shoulder. He
moved toward the front entrance, happy to be off duty
and ready for a hot shower and a cup of noodles. Those
things would not transpire on this evening, however,
and he knew it the moment he spotted Violet’s stricken
countenance outside the door. Levi quickened his steps
and found her trembling on the sidewalk, arms crossed
over her body, cheeks swollen and red.
“Violet, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
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“They’re all dead,” she said in an anguished, fearful
voice. “Everyone is dead.”
“What are you talking about? Who?”
“Everyone’s dead, Levi. Everyone. Jack, Sue, Johnny.
They’re all dead. No one survived. Someone burned it
down.”
“You mean the warehouse? Someone broke in?”
She trembled violently, her face drenched with weary
tears. “We ignored the writing on the wall. It was a
warning and we didn’t listen. Someone killed my
friends, Levi. And I don’t know what to do.”
Violet fell into Levi’s arms, her face turned sideways
against his chest. He felt her tiny frame shaking like an
earthquake and he began to panic.
The writing on the wall.
Levi didn’t have to ask for details. He had seen the
writing on his own door. The same threat, basically. He
felt nauseous and overwhelmed by the news.
“Violet, I want you to listen to me. No one is going to
hurt you, okay? I’m sorry about your friends. There’s
nothing we can do about that now. But I won’t let them
hurt you. I promise.”
Levi was surprised by his own words and the
confidence with which they were said. He had no idea
if he could protect this girl, but the boldness of his own
voice convinced him that he might be able to.
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“Can I stay?” she said. “I have nowhere to go, Levi.
You’re the only person I know that’s not on the street.”
“Kid, you barely know me.”
Violet dried her eyes with a sleeve and became very
still, the pain of rejection written across her already
troubled face. After a moment of hesitation, she spun
around and briskly walked away from him, storming
toward the nearest intersection. Levi’s heart ached
badly. He couldn’t stand to watch her go. After all, it
was his job to protect her. He didn’t know why, at least
not rationally, but he felt it.
“Wait,” he said.
Violet stopped walking, but kept her back to him.
“You really have no place to go?”
She kept silent, still content not to face him.
“Well,” he said, “my place is probably not the safest
for you right now. But I have a friend who might be
able to help you.”
Violet spun around with a tinge of hope in her eyes.
• • •
Jenny covered Violet’s tiny frame with a thick
blanket as the girl shivered on her couch. She cupped
a hand and placed it against Violet’s cheek, very
motherly. A cup of steaming soup rested on the table
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beside her head. Levi watched them from the kitchen.
His strange desire to protect Violet, which he’d felt
since first meeting her on the street, was weighing him
down; he was losing confidence. The girl already
appeared to be on the verge of death, the result of mild
starvation and intense, unspeakable agony. She had
lost everything that was dear to her. And Levi had no
remedy for the pain related to that. He was, however,
grateful for Jenny and her incredible generosity. Who
would just let someone into her home like that, much
less a street kid? Levi admired Jenny. He saw how
quickly she was willing to help someone in need. And
yet he also fought back his feelings of fondness for her.
He was on a mission — a bizarre and scary mission —
and had to stay focused, or they could all be in danger.
He’d already seen what Dev had done to Violet’s
friends. What if he were to suddenly come knocking on
Jenny’s door? The thought of that made him feel sick
to his stomach. He couldn’t bear the idea of that
creepy, monstrous thing coming near his friends or
trying to harm them. But he had come near, and
nearly took Violet with him. Levi was a man of
conflicted emotions and this was surely not the simple
life he had yearned for since walking out of Hinnom
Valley.
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After two hours of sitting with Violet and gently
petting her head, Jenny managed to get her to sleep.
She got up slowly, careful not to wake the girl, and
found Levi in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee. Dark
night filtered in through the apartment windows and
both of them felt pensive. Things like this are better
handled in the light of day, where one can be
surrounded by the glowing, hopeful rays of the sun.
But no such rays were to be found in that dark
kitchen.
“How is she?” Levi asked, careful to speak in a
hushed tone.
“Better than I’d be if I had just lost everyone close to
me. And to lose them in such a way — I can barely
stand to think about it.”
“It might take her a while to come out of this,” Levi
warned.
“She can stay as long as she needs to.”
Levi nodded his appreciation and handed her a cup
of coffee. He found Jenny’s gaze a little frozen and
wondered why he’d bothered to upset this woman’s life
with what amounted to his problems.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Violet mentioned something about graffiti. Someone
had written them a warning. Did she tell you that?”
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Levi took a sip of coffee to gather his thoughts. Just
how much should I tell her?
“Listen,” he said. “I don’t want to alarm you, believe
me — but I have something to tell you.” His thoughts
still hadn’t settled but he needed her to know.
“Someone did a favor for me. That’s how I got out of
Hinnom Valley. Before you ask, I don’t know this
person. At least, I don’t think I do. But whoever got me
out of there has something they’ve asked me to do.”
“What do you mean?” Jenny asked.
Levi pointed at his utility bag on the table and said,
“I was given possession of that thing, that lamp. I can
assume by this point that it’s very valuable — valuable
in a way that’s hard to describe. But trust me when I
say that from the little bit I’ve seen, it’s truly priceless.”
Jenny gulped, wondering if he might be referring to
stolen goods.
“I can’t explain everything right now, even if I wanted
to. But the one who gave me that lamp — someone
who goes by K.S. — he said someone was coming for
me. And I think that whoever wants that lamp also
came after Violet.” The next words were very difficult
for Levi to force out, but she deserved to know the
truth. “Her friends are probably dead because of me.”
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Jenny stiffened. “What do you mean? Are you
involved in something illegal here? I don’t want any
part of this...”
“No, no, no — nothing like that. I haven’t done
anything illegal.”
“Then how do you just stumble upon some priceless
antique? And why would you even accept an offer like
that?”
“I didn’t have a choice, Jenny.”
“Everyone has a choice. You could have given that
thing back,” she countered.
“You don’t understand,” he pleaded. “Things have
been happening that are not normal. I’ve seen things
that I didn’t think were possible. I don’t know why K.S.
put me in this position but someone is willing to kill
me, and anyone else, to get what he gave me. That
lamp is something that I have to believe is worth the
trouble.”
“Levi, if you think someone wants to kill you because
of that thing, just give it to them. And what does any of
this have to do with Violet?”
“The graffiti on her wall” he said. “I saw it too.”
“Where?”
“On my front door.”
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