Rosetta

31

Melina Petrov didn't believe her eyes when she received a comm from Luna. She was sitting in her bed, having just woken up. Didn't the Lunars know anything about timezones?

She ruffled her sheets and raked a hand through her long black hair, some areas turning grey. She accepted the comm as she put on her glasses.

"Hello?" Her own Russian accent scared her. It was beginning to sound more American recently, due to the about of reporters coming to ask her about her new discovery on the Lunar bio electricity gift.

A man in his early twenties appeared on the screen. He had mousy brown hair and slightly tanned skin. He also had the most dark brown eyes she had ever seen, but they had bags under them. With another look, she realised that he looked ill, or worried.

"Hello? Is this Melina Petrov?" He asked. He had a clear Spanish accent, though his English was very good.

"Speaking!" She chirped.

Her cheerfulness made him wince. He certainly didn't look happy.

"Sorry," she said. "Is something the matter?"

The man took in a shaking breath, and steadied himself in his chair.

"My-my name is Carlos Alvaro," he begun. "I lived in Madrid with my friend, Rosetta Luciana. Have-have you watched the news recently?"

"Of course. The Empress was found, and the man helping the Emperor-" she gasped.
"That's- that's you, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"And the kidnapper, that's Rosetta, right?" She asked.

He nodded again. "She- she was forced to stab herself with a spindle by a Lunar. She could have died, but she's been but in a special tank. The Emperor hasn't released that to the press yet." Tears pooled in his eyes.

"Oh." That all she could say.

"And-and I'm sorry if you aren't prepared for this information, but I wasn't either."

Melina's eyes widened.

"So am I correct in assuming you had a daughter?" He asked.

No.
No no no no no no NO

She couldn't talk about this. No. Not now. Not since her birthday had just passed.

But she gulped and nodded. "Y-yes."

The tears spilled and fell down Carlos's cheeks. "She was taken, correct?"

"Y-y-yes!" She shouted.

"Her name...Tatiana Petrov?" He asked sheepishly.

That was the last wavering thread. She crumpled forwards in her bed and let it spill out from her. "Yes! I-I had no other choice! He-he-he was trying to find me, find us. I tried to run but- but I hid her. I hid my tiny Tatiana! And I came back to her- she was gone! Gone, gone, gone!"

She began to sob on her bed, her head in the covers.

"Тётя?" That word. Spelt strangely, pronounced 'Tyo-tya.' The word for Aunt.

Adrik was awake.

"Тётя!" He called again. Melina called back that she was fine, that he should go back to sleep.

"Mrs Petrov?" Carlos asked.

She wailed.

"Mrs Petrov? We have your daughter."

She shot up like a bullet. "What?" She shrieked.

"Mrs Petrov, your daughter is Rosetta."

*
There she was. There she was. Surely she was dreaming? No, she had researched the activeness of dreams and the real of capabilities-