“Hello, Walter.”
This was Mr. Pickett’s son, a traitorous slime of eighteen years.
When we walked to his cell, he shrank back on his cot. “What do you want?”
I gripped the bars. “If you answer our questions, the sheriff over there will release you. If not, we’re going to take you back to our elders, who will punish you in the ways of our people.”
Walter’s face crumpled in defeat, probably imagining torture of all kinds. I didn’t know what punishment Walter would really face if he was taken back to the longhouse community, but Lenape didn’t have a custom of locking people up in cages, at any rate.
“What are they going to do to me?” he asked Amelia.
She crossed her arms and stepped back. “Please address the war leader with your questions.”
I nodded at the sheriff, who unlocked the cel
