The White Door

Soon, the concert was over. The old folks living in the retirement home heartily applauded us, smiling with sincerity or politeness. Even the crankiest of them seemed to be somewhat pleased. Overall, our first gig was a success. While Claire discussed something with the administrator and the guys were busy dismantling the equipment, I told them that I had to do something personal and approached the Protector, sitting down across from her.

The Protector smiled.

'That was quite the performance.'

I didn't return her smile nor say anything. She sighed.

'I have to say, zero six eleven, you have really managed to surprise me. And here I was growing conceited, thinking that there was nothing shocking in this world anymore. Being that strong, and hiding it for so long... right under my nose. Ah, I'm embarrassed.'

There was no mockery in her tone, no fear, just good-natured humor.

The image of Mickey's head exploding was still fresh in my mind.

'You didn't have to kill him.'