If Alina was given to swearing, she would've walked briskly into her home, slammed the door, and said whatever her heart so desired. Being a woman of high speech standards, however, she had to content herself with sitting at her tailoring table and jamming her pins in and out of the pincushion, pretending the pincushion was (quite gruesomely) the villain. After awhile, though, the ritual became boring, and she set aside the pincushion, instead pacing back and forth across the room.
Forcing innocent citizens to confess the skeletons in their closets was one thing, but attacking an orphaned young woman like Molly and a somewhat elderly man like Evan? It was wicked. Not just cruel - truly and utterly wicked!
Turning on her heel, Alina walked into her room and picked up the piece of paper the criminal had left the night before. Wearily tucking a runaway tendril of hair behind her ear, she read the note again, lips moving in silence. The writing was as entrancing as a spell. The most poignant phrase of all resonated in her mind: Search yourself...Search yourself...Search yourself...
"I have searched myself, and I cannot find it within my heart to ever, ever feel pity for you again!" Alina crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room, loathing the beautiful penmanship and its creator.
Hot tears of fear brimmed in Alina's eyes like fire, and she brushed them away. Summeridge was going to be destroyed, and she was partially responsible. Oh, God, forgive me. But what can I do?
Alina knelt on the floor, sniffing as tears flowed down her cheeks. Eyes tightly shut, she whispered cryingly, "Oh, what can I do?"