Maura ran toward her, arms spread wide to stop Belle’s progress. “What happened?” Belle pushed against Maura’s restraint. “I was at the school cleaning out my desk. I heard gunshots.” Maura closed her arms firmly around her friend. “Belle…” “It’s John, isn’t it?” Maura sucked in her top lip. “I’m afraid it is.” Belle thrashed and Maura’s hold began to slip. “I want to know,” Belle said. “Tell me.” “It’s bad, Belle. Very bad.” Belle broke free. Maura grabbed for her elbow and missed. “I’m going to him,” Belle said. “Don’t keep me from him.” Belle broke into a brisk, determined pace, and Maura followed as closely as her tight shoes and long hem would allow. Belle screamed at the sight before her. “We’ve sent for the doctor.” Maura bunched up the fabric of her navy skirt in one hand to permit a longer stride. Bile rose within her, and she swallowed it down. John Twigg continued to bleed in the street. Beside John, Belle fell to her knees.
