The news of his release came as no surprise to Morrigan, although she did feel a rush of something vaguely resembling relief.
Copycats sprung up, as they are wont to do, but none could truly replicate the work of the legendary Dragon’s Tail, and to the credit of the local police department, they caught on to that as well. In the end, it should have been obvious that the trail, faint and faded as it was, would eventually lead to her vicinity - but even she couldn’t anticipate that the sacrificial lamb they’d drag in her place to the slaughter would be someone within her exceedingly small circle of acquaintances, perhaps even friends.
It tugged at her heartstrings, in truth, and the effect was only deepened by her son’s concern for what might happen to his friend now that her father was a murderer. She’d been lying in wait for a while now, seeking an opportune moment to strike again, when the cops grew nice and complacent. In a sad way, Perses had given her just that, and she felt compelled to repay him the only way she knew how: not letting his sacrifice be in vain.
Fortunately for them both, the agents following the case knew a genuine Dragon’s Tail murder when they saw it, and this one with a brand new bait for them: cherchez la femme, cherchez la femme, cherchez la femme…
The second she thought he’d had sufficient time to readjust to life on the outside, she gave him a call - for Kieran’s sake.
“I hear you’ve paid your debt to society.” She smiled to herself. In her own warped view, she’d done him a remarkable kindness; she’d paid it for him. “Kieran has missed the two of you, so now that you’ve reformed, might I interest you in a playdate? Between the children, of course – but I’m certainly not ruling anything out.”
