Saul slipped into the children’s bedroom. Paul’s shallow breaths filled the cramped room and a nightlight made shadows of everything. Saul walked to the boys’ bunk bed. Only Danny’s coppery hair poked out from beneath the blue ball of Spiderman blanket in the top bunk. Saul rubbed Danny’s back softly and carefully. “Everything will be okay one day, cub,” Saul breathed.

“Everything will work out alright.” Saul turned and stepped beside the girls’ bed. He reached over the pale yellow blankets on their bed and softly kissed Rebekah then Eryn. “I love you,” he whispered between their heads. He weaved his finger through a section of Eryn’s gold hair and kissed that too. His finger grazed a tiny metal chain along her neck, and a tear fell from his eye into her hair as he realized she was wearing the locket he had given her for her last birthday. Saul walked back to the bunk bed.

He knelt on the ground beside Paul whose legs stuck out from beneath his red blanket. His head had fallen off the pillow and his brown hair stuck out in every direction. Saul watched him breathe. “You take care of them, Paul,” he said keeping rhythm with Paul’s breathing. “Be their brother.” He rested his hand on Paul’s back for a minute. He then stood up, and as he turned to leave, he said, “I love you.”

He almost walked back into his own room. He had reached the bedroom door, but he forced himself to leave. He had already told his wife goodbye and his time was limited. If she woke up, he might not be able to leave. He might not have had the courage. She might have stopped him.

* * *

Saul stumbled off the train at King’s Cross. The cement ground felt solid after hours on the train, and it seemed odd that he was no longer moving forward. He looked for a man dressed in a long tan coat as he walked on the platform only to find several men dressed in long tan coats. Heat swelled through his body even though the air was cold. What if he couldn’t find him? What if he didn’t show up? What if the plan failed? What if Bryan set him up? The grey of everything—the platform, the station, the concrete—blurred his vision even more. He couldn’t identify the features on the faces of passing people. He couldn’t tell who was old or who was young. He couldn’t tell man or woman apart. A thin layer of blur coated his eye, and a hand clutched his shoulder.

“Saul,” a hushed deep voice said. “Is that you?”

Saul turned around slowly. It was a dark squat man in a long tan coat. Saul nodded.

“Don’t look so nervous,” the man said. “Put your hands down and follow me.”

They walked through grey corridors and into silent and empty dungeon-like halls. Just when Saul opened his mouth to ask where they were going, the man stopped, turned, and pulled out a key. He put it into a small keyhole in what looked like more of the stone wall. He slid the concealed door into the crack of the wall and stepped inside a dimly lit room that smelled like fresh soil. The walls of the room were nothing more than caked dirt, nothing more than a well-concealed hole in the earth. Three lanterns hung from thin rope from the ceiling and crates of explosives lined the walls. Just in front of them was what looked like a black lifejacket.

“Are you ready?” the man said.

Saul nodded. The heat from within threatened to suffocate him.

“Remember what Bryan said. One wrong move and your family doesn’t get it.”

“£50,000,” Saul said.

“That’s right,” he said. “Leave your family with a legacy.”

Saul removed his coat and shirt. The man picked up the vest carefully and handed it to Saul. Saul held the heavy black vest in front of him in awe and fear of its powers. He then raised it above him, stretched it around his head, dropped it onto his shoulders, and pulled his arms through the holes. A thick line of pouches wrapped around his stomach, each filled with gunpowder, mercury, acetone, a light switch, and a cable. The vest reminded Saul of a muscle shirt that scooped too low and weighed too much. The man held an army green coat to him and Saul put the heavy jacket on and buttoned it.

“They won’t be able to tell,” the man said. “Everything is completely normal.”

Saul didn’t believe him. His arms couldn’t rest by his side and his waist had nearly doubled in diameter. He must have gained nine kilograms with all the equipment.

“Just remember, you don’t look suspicious so don’t act suspicious. Just walk out there and…”

Saul nodded as the man made a jerking motion from his body. Saul questioned nothing; he didn’t want to find truth in the man’s face. After the man’s parting nod, Saul walked mechanically through the corridors, his sight smeared. This time when he reached the platform, the coat of grey comforted him. He couldn’t see the faces of those near him. He couldn’t hear the voices of those close to him. And though the dough in his mind had turned to rock, cutting and piercing his head with every cold step, he could smell the rising of homemade bread as he walked into the warmth of his apartment. He could feel his children’s laughter and see his wife’s face as it was years ago. The grey rock of reality continued to stab him with every unbreakable step through the station.

A ten-year-old Bryan lay on the hard, cold ground near the school, beneath Saul’s headlock, but Bryan tickled Saul to escape, always able to find Saul’s weakness. And before Saul could feel any more pain, he tugged at the cable and the grey turned to black.