I realized then that I was no longer afraid for myself or for what might happen, but for the possibility that they might hurt the sheriff and his wife. I wasn’t afraid they would hurt me. I was afraid this wouldn’t end well, because of a misunderstanding.
If I dared to say something, would anyone listen to me? I tried, at least:
“Wait, Alexander… please! Why don’t you listen to him? He says he only wants to talk.”
The one being addressed narrowed his eyes and took a step toward us.
“Talk, huh? About what do you want to ‘talk,’ cat?” he demanded, chin held high.
“I think you and I both know very well what I came to talk about. I’m not going to shoot anyone if you don’t either.”
It was hard for Alexander to make a decision. I can’t say he didn’t have a point if he thought all of that c
