Episode 128 Previous Episode	Next Episode
“When you are hiding something, you get the feeling that every other secret is connected to your secret.” John Bellairs, The House with a clock in its walls Rebecca’s eyes shook as much as her hands. Terrified, she stared at the knights that faced her. Waiting before her, Everett and Ledger were the focus of her fear. The two were still; Everett’s arms crossed and Ledger with his shotgun still in hand, both staring at her in consideration like lions considering a wounded gazelle. “I’m telling the truth,” she implored. “I, I don’t know why I ran by the side door. I don’t know why the knights did what they did. Maybe they weren’t knights. I don’t know! But I’m telling the truth.” Sydney looked at the others, gauging their responses. Erik seemed indifferent to the girl, more worried about his own condition. Marilyn looked able to go either way, but all the others were convinced. She turned to Rebecca, her hands in her trench coat pockets. “You moved in with Morgan,” she said. Rebecca, unclear on where Sydney was going with the statement, nodded. “You guys have been dating and such for a while now.” She looked Rebecca up and down. “You’ve got to be tougher than this. You’re shaking like a leaf.” Rebecca swallowed, a tint of rage appearing behind her fear. “I know what knights can do,” she whispered. She glanced around the room, her eyes turning subtly to the front door. As she glanced at it, Edgar smiled, leaning against the doorframe, taking up most of the exit. “Here’s the deal,” Everett spoke up, taking a friendly step towards her. “We need to find Morgan. And we need to stop Alan Vick. If you can help us with either or both of those objectives, I don’t care about you lying.” “I’m not lying!” she begged. Everett’s hand flew up, silencing her. “Where is Morgan now?” he asked. “I don’t know!” “How are you connected to Alan Vick?” “I don’t know who Alan Vick is!” she yelled. “You were at the club when Morgan was there,” Sydney said. “We know you’ve seen him.” “I couldn’t tell you which of those guys was Alan Vick,” Rebecca argued. “He could have been the one Morgan grabbed by the mouth for all I know.” “Who killed Morgan’s stepmother?” Everett asked. “I! Don’t! Know!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. As the echo of Rebecca’s scream emptied out of the room, Everett turned to Ledger and Sydney. “We can’t stay here all night,” he said. “We’ve got to deal with Alan.” “Not to mention the police will be by here at some point,” Ledger pointed out. “They may work slow, but sooner or later, they’re going to send some boys in blue by to check on Morgan.” Everett sighed, at a loss. “Suggestions?” Sydney thought for a moment and looked over Everett’s shoulder at Rebecca. “Ledger,” she asked, her voice cold and low. “What would you need to get the answers out of her?” “Whoa, hold up,” Armand interjected, leaving Erik by the wall, coming over to the others. “What’s all this?” “She has answers we need,” Ledger said without turning to the youngest knight. “We’ve got to find a way to get them.” “What answers does she really have?” Armand asked. “And besides, what methods are you thinking about employing?” “You know what methods,” Sydney said with an unhappy tone. “If she’s working with Alan, we have got to know what she’s told him,” Everett said. “Moreover, we’ve got to know why she’s been working Morgan.” “I don’t think she’s working with Alan,” Armand said. “At least, I don’t know, at least not willingly.” “What do you mean?” Everett asked. “Well, Alan’s got that whole Knightspeak thing going. Maybe he could have brainwashed her or something.” Armand looked between the three knights in the discussion. “Could we do the same, only in reverse or something?” “No,” Everett answered without hesitation. “We will not use Knightspeak like that. Nor will we tolerate others to use it. Knightspeak is brainwashing. And that’s a line we cannot cross.” “Even to undo it?” Sydney asked, partially agreeing with Armand. “And you won’t use Knightspeak, but you will use torture?” the junior knight added. “Hey guys,” Roland said, holding up his hand with a smile. “Can I be involved the pow-wow? I’m feeling a little left out.” “Got anything to add?” Everett asked. Roland thought for a moment, then shrugged and strolled back into the kitchen. “If she is brainwashed with Knightspeak, then it’s more potent than we thought. Moreover, she could be programmed to do other things.” “That’s just it, though,” Armand said. “She might not have a clear story of what happened because of the brainwashing. We can’t punish her for something that she, basically, didn’t do.” “We can’t really punish her anyway,” Sydney said. “We’re not an enforcement agency.” She looked to Everett. “We’re on thin ice as it is. We really need to be careful with how we proceed.” Everett thought for a moment, then turned to Ledger. He was about to speak, but his eyes trailed over to Erik by the wall. He looked down at himself, at the blue and white. With disgust, he yanked his shirt open. “I’ve had enough of this.” He took off his black trench coat and ripped open his white shirt to reveal the red tank top underneath. He tossed the shirt onto the watery floor and stepped on it. He glared at Erik, but neither knight spoke. Back in red and black, he turned to Ledger. “What would you need?” “I think I could do it with some Dim Mak,” he suggested. “Pressure points are pretty effective.” “Yeah, they took care of Donovan nicely,” Sydney pointed out, nodding to the unconscious knight in the kitchen. “All right, Ledger,” Everett said. “It’s your show.” “It’s what?” Marilyn exclaimed. “No no no,” she said, wagging her finger at the knights. “You are not about to torture this poor girl.” Across the large living room, Rebecca shrank at the word. “I wouldn’t exactly call it torture,” Everett said in a tired tone, “and even if it was, yes, we are.” “No, you’re not!” she barked, rushing across the room. She stood between the knights and Rebecca, holding her hands out protectively. “Marilyn, please get out of the way,” Everett said. “No,” she said. She noted Ledger taking hold of his shotgun again. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?” she asked defiantly. “Point of note,” Roland called from the kitchen entrance, a fresh beer in his hand, “he could just shoot around you. You’re not much bigger than she is.” “I am…” Marilyn stopped. She turned and looked at Rebecca, scrutinizing the girl’s size. “I am bigger,” she realized. Her shoulders sank. She looked down at her stomach. “I’m not fat, am I?” With a shake of her head, she whirled back around. “No!” she yelled. “You’re not going to hurt her.” “Marilyn, please,” Everett said. “Marilyn, don’t do this,” Edgar added from the door. “No,” she insisted. Everett sighed, shaking his head. He half turned away. Roland threw up his hands and walked back into the kitchen, stepping on the unconscious Donovan in the process. It took the two non-knights a moment to realize the plan had been aborted. Rebecca fell against the wall, on the verge of tears of joy. “Thank you,” she whispered. Marilyn turned to her, smiling. “I know what it’s like to be playing in their yard,” she said sympathetically. “Thank you so much,” Rebecca said gratefully with a smile. “I knew the Crimson Rose would save me,” she added with a bit of a laugh. In a flash, Marilyn’s smile disappeared. “What?” Rebecca asked, suddenly worried, her own smile fading. Marilyn turned to Everett and the others. They all wore the same ‘we never told Morgan’ expression. She turned back to Rebecca, an incredulous look in her eyes. “Morgan didn’t know I was the Crimson Rose,” she said. She stepped back from Rebecca. “You really are lying.”
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