Chapter 5 Escape (5)
"Dad, can you please take care of Booker? He's drunk again and is sleeping on the second floor. His snoring sounds like thunder! How can I work?"
Irene stood on the stairs and complained. John, who was sitting on the sofa downstairs, waved his hands impatiently. He was in the middle of a conversation and didn't care about the complaints of a little girl.
"Then let him go back to his room and sleep. What's the point of telling me?"
"How can I call him? He is sleeping so soundly!"
"Then just help him back to the bedroom. You're already an adult, do you still need me to teach you?"
John's tone was extremely impatient.
Irene tilted her head and rolled her eyes fiercely.
It's because it's useless that I'm telling you, an old baldy.
What if those useful people really come up when we call them?
The girl stomped her feet hard, looking angry and helpless. She looked around and everyone seemed to be busy with their own work and didn't even raise their heads.
Everyone in the room knew that waking up drunk Booker would not end well. Booker was notorious for his drunkenness and strong strength. When he was drunk, he could even knock over a cow.
Just then, Hannah came out of the master bedroom carrying a basin of water - Tina asked her to clean up the dressing table.
Irene's eyes lit up and she ordered:
"Hannah, help me get Booker back to his room."
Hannah forced a smile on her face, and she pursed her lips, "This is not good. Master Booker doesn't like us black women touching him."
"Why are there so many things?" John shook the newspaper vigorously, making a rustling sound. He saw the fleet of the Northern Propaganda Department and was unhappy at the moment.
"Why, my lady can't order a servant like you around anymore?"
Hannah looked terrified. She quickly placed the basin at the entrance of the room and wiped her hands with her apron awkwardly. "Miss Irene, where is Master Booker? I'll take him back to his bedroom."
"Look, it's on that sofa," Irene pursed her lips, turned her body to the side, and stood quietly blocking the stairs.
Thanks to Hannah's frequent physical labor, moving Booker was no problem.
Irene had her back to the steps, pinching her nose and snoring like a tractor.
Sometimes high, sometimes low, sometimes far, sometimes near, so lifelike.
I am grateful to her for not being able to think straight when she was in junior high school and having the time to study pig sounds.
I am multi-talented, Irene consoled herself.
"Miss, where should we put him?"
Hannah carried Booker into the bedroom easily without even taking a breath. After entering the room, the girl subconsciously looked at Irene and asked nervously.
Booker's room was much bigger than hers, and it had a lot more furniture, including a solid wood double bed with four beautiful Roman columns holding up the mosquito net.
She and Lily didn't have this kind of treatment. They both slept in small beds that were not even as big as Booker's when put together.
Irene looked around, then half-knelt on the floor beside the bed. She lifted the bedspread, and a cloud of dust rose from the floor under the bed, which had not been cleaned for a long time.
Fortunately, it wasn't a solid bed bottom, and Irene breathed a sigh of relief.
"Stuff him under the bed," Erin commanded calmly, "and open the window. Does Booker like to go out and play?"
This is a very strange question. Brothers and sisters who have lived together for many years, don’t they understand the habits of their own family?
But Hannah subconsciously blocked out the irrational parts. She felt that whatever Irene said was right. The girl nodded vigorously.
"He used to sneak out in the middle of the night to drink with the Victor brothers."
"That's good," Irene gestured to the size of a man's shoe, "It's probably about size 43. Go and step on a few footprints under the window later. What size shoes does your father wear?"
How big is size 43? Hannah was confused. Could it be the troll's foot? "Forget it, just use his own." Before Hannah could ask, Irene pulled the shoes off Booker's feet. Fortunately, he had not been dead for long, and his body was still soft, so the shoes were not difficult to take off.
She pulled off her shoes while making arrangements with Hannah, "Wrap his head tightly, and don't let any blood smell out. We'll wait until they realize something is wrong and go looking for Booker tonight, so we just need to hide until after dinner."
"Yeah," the little girl nodded heavily, and imitated him by taking off her booker jacket and wrapping it around his head layer by layer. He looked like a mummy, but there was indeed no smell of blood at all.
It may also be that the man's foot odor masks the blood.
Irene picked up Booker's shoes and put them aside with disgust. She and Hannah worked together to stuff the body under the bed. Then they carefully smoothed out the bedspread and ruffled the bed to make it look like Booker had slept in it.
The moment she closed the door, Irene's nerves became more and more tense, as if everyone downstairs might discover what she and Hannah had done.
She was on full alert.
As long as I can hold on until tonight, Irene encouraged herself.
"Take some time to go back and pack your things, and bring more food. We may have to live outside for a while." She pulled Hannah, and the two hands of completely different colors were tightly folded together. Irene stared at Hannah's panic-stricken eyes and whispered:
"Don't be afraid, it's not your fault, God won't punish you, we will all be fine."
Hannah stared blankly into Irene's gentle and compassionate eyes, and her kind voice seemed to have a motherly tone.
As she looked at her, the image of the Virgin Mary that she had seen in the church vaguely appeared in her mind. Irene now looked as tolerant and gentle as the Virgin Mary.
All the fear and confusion in her chest disappeared, and Hannah nodded vigorously, letting out a short response from her choked throat.
Irene patted her on the back and said, "Go to work, honey. I'll go look for my ID."
Hannah didn't understand what Irene was going to do, but she now trusted Irene almost completely. The girl nodded obediently and picked up the heavy wooden basin with slightly reddish dirty water in it - they had just wiped the study floor with a rag.
Erin looked at Hannah's thin figure as she hurriedly left, and couldn't help but think of what Booker wanted to do to her.
She wanted to spit on Booker's body.
Hannah was still a child, the pedophile deserved to die.
If I run away tonight, how can I contact Leo? Irene gritted her teeth and thought, forget it, I'll find Leo's ID first. At worst, I can just take him away when I run away. He won't resist escaping.
As for where the proof of identity is, she probably has some idea.
I just hope John hasn't had time to burn Leo's ID.
Irene lifted her skirt and glanced around quickly. After making sure that no one was there, she slipped into the study and went straight to the large cabinet where she suspected John had hidden his gun.
The lock is large, but this traditional lock is not difficult to open.
Irene untied her hair, pulled out a small piece of wire hidden in the middle, folded it in half, and twisted it into a slightly thicker wire.
She raised the padlock and skillfully inserted it into the lock core, sliding it up and down little by little, looking for the buckle.
After a while.
With a "click".
The lock is open.
Irene tied her hair again and tucked the short piece of wire into her hair again.
No matter how small a mosquito is, it is still meat, and who could have guessed that there was something hidden in her hair? If something happened, this would be the key to victory.
It's okay to poke one eye out.
There were indeed guns and elixirs in the cabinet, and there were quite a few of them. Unfortunately, they were all long, crude spears, and there was no pistol like Leo's.
It is not convenient to carry when traveling far away.
Irene had no time to feel regretful. She immediately glanced at the various documents on the second to last floor.
John's handwritten passport, various ship and train tickets, slaves' travel passes...
And Leo's ID and passport!
Erin's breath hitched as she quickly stuffed Leo's ID and other useful documents into her corset.
I didn't even have time to open it and take a look.
Oh my god! This was all going so smoothly. Irene's heart was pounding with excitement.
Leo is a foreigner, and without these things it would be difficult for him to take a single step in the United States. The fact that he couldn't buy a boat ticket was enough to worry him.
Irene tightened the corset straps, finally giving her something to hold Leo in her hands, hoping it would work.
Before closing the cabinet, Irene's attention was attracted by the dagger placed in the corner of the cabinet.
It was a pure black dagger, completely different from John's collection, thrown randomly in a corner.
There are no gems or extravagant decorations on the handle, only a simple lion head, like some kind of family emblem.
The scabbard has hand-carved bristle-like stripes, making it a very delicate handicraft.
John really didn't know what was good. He had oiled, waxed, and put all the hunting rifles on the shelf, but this good stuff was thrown into the corner.
Pure blindness.
Irene had seen many such objects when she visited museums in her previous life. Many nomadic peoples worshipped animal images, and the animals they believed in were engraved on their knives and sacrificial items.
But this lion head looks particularly familiar, as if I have seen it somewhere.
Where have you seen...
Irene frowned and thought for a long time, but couldn't remember where she had seen it.
How come I can’t remember anything at all? Could it be that my memory will really decline if I don’t take fish oil?
Arts students are terrified.jpg
But Leo
She grabbed the dagger, the leather felt cold against her palms.
Another breath in the air suddenly became heavier. Irene was concentrating on the dagger and didn't notice the curtains swaying behind her.
The blade reflected a bright white cold light, and the three letters "LEO" were engraved where it met the handle.
It should be Leo's.
And this is a dagger that looks very sharp.
Irene grabbed a strand of hair and, imitating the way she did on TV shows, she loosened the hair with the blade facing upwards.
The hair swayed and fell, and split into two strands as it passed over the blade.
It works so well?!
As per the old rules, she would keep it for the time being before returning it to Leo.
So where should I hide it?
In TV dramas, she hides in high boots, but she doesn’t have high boots, so where else can she hide?
Irene licked her lips and her eyes moved.
So, Leo watched as the woman lifted up her skirt, revealing lace stockings held in place by black leg rings underneath her pure white skirt.
His excellent eyesight allowed him to see at a glance the reddened flesh near the black leather, and he could vaguely see clear muscle lines.
There are also many white scars, and the newest scars are even pink, looking like they have just healed.
The huge visual impact was like a heavy punch, hitting his brain hard, and his reason was in panic and scattered.
He didn't even have time to think about why this delicate girl who was raised in the boudoir had such strong muscles and so many wounds.
Especially in this age when women are supposed to be gentle.
Leo turned his head away in panic. His face turned pale, then blushed with shame and anger, and his long and thick eyelashes trembled violently.
Like a little boy who has never seen the world.
What on earth was this woman doing and why did she leave his knife there!
Was she humiliating him?
The knife that humiliates him can only stay under a woman's skirt?
Like Will's gang, forcing him to crawl through a whore's vagina so they could mock his mother?
Even if she was not a spy, doing such a thing was a naked insult to him.
Leo's face suddenly darkened, his fingertips firmly pressed on the raised relief on the window frame.
"Go kill her, then take back the knife and ID. You can get away without her."
The boy's will snapped.
"Wait a little longer. Don't you want to know what shocking things this weird woman who looks like a Bohemian will do next?"
Soft pleas crowded into his heart.
…
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com