On with the story (The Ringly's ch. 2 pt.1/2)

Thump, the paper bag hit the table harder than intended. Briar looked up at Jackson with a rare look of surprise, “What’s this?”

He slid into his usual seat, eyes cast downward onto the table, “Uh, I mentioned that you didn’t eat at school and aunt Lois insisted on making you a lunch. So, yeah, us sorry.”

Briar put away her worksheet and replaced it with the bag, “Don’t apologize,” she said simply, taking out the food. As they ate, they kept up a consistent idle chatter. That is, until Jackson changed the topic.

“Speaking of Mr. Hettly, have you been keeping up with the Wenton case? I mean, the project is over, but it’s kinda interesting you know?” Jackson said between bites of hardly-edible school food.

“I haven’t,” she lied, resisting the urge to pick at the phantom blood beneath her nails.

“Well they got a match on that DNA they found at the scene. They won’t release anything else yet, but I’m pretty sure they found the killer.”

“They think.”

“What?”

“You’re pretty sure they think they found the killer.”

Jackson shrugged, “Same difference.”

Briar shook her head, “No, if they really did catch the killer, then you can be assured that the right person would be accused of the crime. If they are wrong, however, then there is a risk of the wrong person being convicted.”

Jackson shrugged again, emulating a small, clueless bird, “You’re not wrong, but if their DNA was at the crime scene, then why haven’t they come forward or something? If they aren’t the killer, then they could know something no one else does.”

“That’s true,” Briar admitted, “but the fear of being wrongfully convicted could be a factor as well.”

And so their conversation went. All through lunch and in the space between classes, they exhausted every possibility until they both ran out of counter-arguments. They said goodbye at the end of the day without reaching a clear conclusion.

~

Briar had only just stepped into the foyer when he father’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Eleanor,” he said, ever gently, “is your sister here?”

Briar nodded, “She returned through the back door.”

“Retrieve her.”

“Yes, father.”

Soon enough, a group of three were gathered in the small dining room, which was still plenty large enough to comfortably host a small banquet.

“Girls, I have an assignment for you,” Carlson said. The girls knew better than to fill the silence of his pause.

“You are to make a copy of the DNA evidence found at the crime scene and destroy the original. I expect you will be able to do this easily enough?”

Queenie snorted, “Give me two hours, I’ll be in and out.”

“You’ll need at least four,” Briar corrected, “That is, if you’re working on your own, as you implied.”

Queenie was about to snap back with some smart remark when Carlson interjected, “Girls, what have I told you about arguing?”

“That it is ‘counterproductive and childish’.” Briar quoted.

“Very good. Now, I need you both to gear up. Queenie is the distraction this time, we can’t risk anything on this one. I expect you both back by ten tonight.”

“Understood.” came the united reply.