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"So, the escort, hmm? Reowww, am I right?"
The person (Sarah absolutely couldn't tell their gender) leaned casually on the wall opposite her front door as she came in, the upper half of their face obscured in the shadows of a large brimmed hat. She couldn't recognize them at all, not even from their voice. "I haven't a clue what you mean." Stay polite, Sarah reminded herself. You are a successful doctor. They'll look up to you once they know who you are. Set an example. "There are few here who haven't had a visit from her."
"Yeah, but I've seen you 'n Martha together a lot lately. Ain't that a little strange? I don't see you getting distracted every night." They pulled out a dark envelope, sealed with a red wax stamp. A rose. The mafia. Sarah stiffened. "Got some letters here between the two of you. Real spicy stuff in here, whew! Gave me a case of the vapors."
Stand your ground. "Perhaps so." Sarah placed her medical bag on the floor. She was still covered in blood after she had saved a life. Martha's life. It all lined up. But how could they have known? "But I have better things to do than worry about a mere letter. You do not scare me." That sounded like a challenge, she realized, and all at once, she knew she had made a mistake.
The figure glanced up, and Sarah caught a brief glimpse of their eyes before they adjusted the hat. Dark. They bored right into her. "Well, well, well. Pretty bold coming from someone having an affair. Adultery, ain't it? People don't take kindly to that 'round here." They paused and stood up straight, taking a few steps toward Sarah. "I could report this to the mayor. I got the proof. You'd get in trouble, Martha'd get in trouble-- and your poor husband. What would he say if he knew you cheated on 'im? Aww, he'd be devastated. Now, I'm sure you don't want that."
"What do you want from me?"
A smile appeared on their face, cold, the kind someone makes when they know they've won. It sent a chill down Sarah's spine. "You're pretty loud during those meetings, ain't ya? Why don't you rest your voice for a day or so? Let other people do the talkin' for you for once. Sound like a good idea?" Sarah knew she couldn't protest.
"Well, then. I think my work here is done, don't you?" They adjusted their coat, carefully placing the envelope inside it. Sarah caught a glimpse of the inside of the coat-- there were so many other letters in there. Enough for each townie to have one. They came prepared. "Remember, I got the best ears in town," They tipped their hat cordially as they pushed past Sarah, stopping in the doorway. "If I hear a single word outta you tomorrow… everyone will know."
And they were gone.
-
The next day, Sarah did not speak.
As instructed, not a word fell from her lips as the worried townspeople conversed. She breathed an internal sigh of relief that no one was questioning her. She didn't know what she might've done then. No one was dead this morning. Sarah seemed to be one of few people that knew why. Martha was visited by the mafia, the spy pointed out, and all attention was on her.
"Yes, I was attacked," Martha said. Sarah always loved the sound of her voice. "But someone saved me. I don't know who, but… if not for them, I would've died." If only Sarah could admit that she healed her. She would have to confess tomorrow-
"That was me," blurted Alice. She was blond, and her outfit was similar to the one Detective Phips wore. Sarah always assumed she was another investigator. "You're welcome, by the way."
Sarah's eyes widened as Martha expressed her thanks. Alice was lying , and she couldn't do anything about it. Internally, she screamed; on the outside, she made no more than a whimper. And even that was too much.
Suddenly, all eyes were on her. "Somethin' wrong, Wildes?" Sheriff James Bayley. Everyone trusted him after he called out the town's executioner that tried to get someone innocent hung. Even Sarah trusted him, though something about the way he spoke felt unsettling. "You've been awful quiet today, haven't you?" Sarah did not respond.
"Ain't you gonna say anything? Suspicious. Actually, I paid you a little visit last night. Asked you some questions. You remember, don't you?" No, the accent… it was so familiar… and then it hit her like a rock. "You gave me some, uh, questionable answers. Mighty strange of you. What's your role in this town, anyway?"
This was him. This was the one that blackmailed her; she just knew it. "No answer? Then put her up on the stand. Make 'er talk."
And so Sarah stood under the gallows, trembling at the sight of the town watching her expectantly. "H-he…" She dared to speak in a last-ditch attempt to save her life. "He blackmailed me. He said he'd tell everything if I spoke. Please, I-" James shot her a glare, and she said no more.
"Anyone have a clue what this harlot's talkin' about?" He still had that same casual tone from the night before. "'Cause I'm thinkin' that this is an easy guilty. Probably caught a mafia member unprepared. You'll want to get some actin' lessons down in hell, ma'am; that was dreadful."
The noose was placed around her neck. Sarah did not sob, for she was not afraid. "All in favor? All opposed?" Announced Bayley. 10 Ayes. 1 Nay. Sarah looked at the escort in appreciation, though it did nothing to save her. "Alright then. Sarah Wildes, you've been found guilty of crimes against the town. May God have mercy on your soul."
He kicked the stool out from under her. As the world as she knew it faded to nothingness, she looked one final time at Martha, her wonderful escort.
She wondered if it had been worth it.