Wordle by Wordle: Day 223
Tuesday, Aug 20, 2024
Wordle #1158 – DELAY
“You!!” Bree shrieks at me, unable to articulate her contempt beyond that single syllable. Her hatred too great to express.
“Speak into the mic—”
Bree yanks off her headphones, which catch in her hair, and launches herself over the side of the chair with a feral yowl.
Surprise delays my reaction time, and Bree is able to easily snatch Froufrou out of my hands. She raises Froufrou high above her head—the neon I Heart Homicide sign against the wall washes the pearly ceramic a shining blood red—and swings it down at me.
A burst of pain skitters across my wrist as I raise my arm just in time to block the blow.
“Ow! Bree!” I hold up both arms in front of my face, trying to both placate and defend. Another blow bounces off my elbow. “Stop it!”
Through the scrim of Bree’s wild hair, I can see Kaitlyn and Virginia stand up, too, but they keep their distance, fearful and uncertain. Another flash of pain shoots down my forearm. They shout something at Bree, but I can hardly hear them over the noises of exertion that Bree makes with every strike. Over and over.
I kick my feet at Bree but can’t seem to make contact. I grab Froufrou out of the air for a moment, only to have her wrested away again. When Froufrou’s pom-pom tail glances off my brow, stars explode in the corner of my vision, and I distantly wonder whether this was the last thing Roy saw…
Just then, I hear the door slam open and several pairs of footsteps rush into the studio.
“Stop! Put down your weapon!” A male voice bellows.
Bree stops. She still looms over me, panting, Froufrou clenched in her two-handed grip, her shoulders shaking with rage and exertion, mascara smeared across her cheeks.
Finally, with one last wry smile, Bree shrugs in surrender and lets Froufrou drop from her limp fingers to the carpet. She turns her back on me to face the interlopers.
Palumbo stands in the middle of the studio flanked by two cops, his hand hovering over his holstered firearm, and takes in the scene with a look that’s equal parts confused and amused. Of course. He smirks.
“You’re under arrest.” Palumbo’s gaze slides from me to Bree. “Both of you.”
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