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Black Widow’s Deadly Touch
“Catherine Edwards?!”
Miss Blackwood ran down the corridors of the orphanage, with the reminder to limp from time to time when she met a small group of frightened children in her way.
“Elizabeth, where are you, little bitch?!”
As usual, the old lady fiercely looked for her... to make poor girl’s life even more miserable. The woman kept screaming.
“Catherine Edwards ?!”
She entered each tiny room, each dormitory stuffed with furniture and old closets. Some of those closets had no doors because they were eaten by bugs. She hit them with her crutch.
The old lady saw a lot of children washing the floor blackened in time, not because of the dirt, but because the children used to polish it daily. That floor with traps here and there with rotten or broken planks.
“Kid, where's Elizabeth Edwards?”
The boy, about seven, carried a bucket full of water almost heavier than he was. He stopped near the old hag.
“I don't
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