Chapter 18

The hospital was keen to see us go. The guards in the wards raised questions and concerns. After the doctor removed my IV and had another look at me, ‘the rest of the healing process could be done at home’.

But the police van, disguised as a laundry van, didn’t take us home. Probably because we had none. We drove for about half an hour and arrived at a farmhouse. At the driveway, there was a sign that said “Clean Laundry,” which matched the lettering on the car. Downstairs was for security. A room full of cameras, a lunch table, and a television. The upper floor had four small bedrooms, a modest bathroom with a shower and a toilet, and a tiny kitchenette. They furnished one bedroom as a living room with two sofas, a small table, and a large television.

With all the guards downstairs, we all remained clothed. We were silent as we sat down in this living room with no windows and just artificial light. All the things we had worked so hard at seemed nothing more than a distant memory.

Two short bells followed by three short bells announced someone from the police coming up. The female officer I had seen next to my hospital bed entered our living space.

“Tomorrow will be the burial of Jennifer Layerence. I am sorry to have to tell you that the family of Jennifer has asked specifically to tell you they want a closed funeral, and that they would appreciate it if you refrained from coming to the funeral centre or graveyard. They fear for their own safety, and I’m afraid they blame you for her death.”

“Unacceptable” was Joyce’s first response.

“We need to see her; we want to say goodbye to her, and thank her for all she has done for us,” Drew said.

“I understand”, the policewoman said, “but we have to take the wishes of the family into account as well. We have talked to them about some sort of compromise. We could bring you late tonight to the funeral home, so you can say goodbye to her. I’m afraid that is about the best we can do for you.”

“That is most kind of you. We would like to take advantage of that offer.” I said.

“Good. We will leave from here at 22:00 hours. Is there something else some of our civilian colleagues can get from your homes? I’m afraid you may not leave here, but if you need something, we would be willing to pick something up for you. Clothes perhaps?”

Kia, our youngest member of the group, only 14 years old, said as calm as could be, “No, thank you. We are used among ourselves to remaining nude in the house, except for Aislinn. I think she might need at least two suitcases of clothes to last a week or two.” We all had to smile at that.