violetoldfieldâ:
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âthere is a lot worse they can do!â violet said, her lighter brown eyes already wide with a look of panic. giving a quick look over her shoulder to see if anyone was looking right at them, she turned back to edith and this time signing. âwhat do we even say if people ask? or ask a lot of questions?â
Edith flashed her a look of disapproving frustration, undercut by the obvious love in her eyes. And then signed in return, âjust pretend like weâre meant to be here. they are the ones who are wrong.â she strode up to the front entry, where the guards stood at their posts and nodded to them with curt approval. With her shoulders held back and her chin high, she declared, âWeâre here to see Jedadiah Slate, my brother. He wrote me to say that visitors are permitted on Wednesdays in the afternoon.âÂ
The guard raised an eyebrow. While everything she said was technically correct, she didnât look like the type they often had drop by on visiting day. And while he only had a passing familiarity with the notorious Mr. Slate, she didnât look like she could possibly be his sister. His intuition was telling him that he shouldnât let them by without a round of proper questioning. After all, he was a proper guard and at a proper prison. His eyes slid from her to the young woman beside her, âAnd you? Whatâs your relation to Mr. Slate? Or are you here to visit someone else?âÂ












