Split Love

CHAPTER 38

Jamie felt a deep buzzing in her soul. The agent's words danced through her mind as she felt herself falling free. She blinked faster. Her eyes tried to focus on the face in front of her, on Logan West's tanned skin, or his deep blue eyes, or his slicked-back blonde hair. But she couldn't, it was as if there was an eyelash in her eye. And the buzzing seemed to increase to the point where she thought she couldn't hear anything anymore.

- That's why your file is sealed. - His voice sounded far away and Jamie held on to the table with fear of falling. He didn't give her time to recover and continued talking without stopping. As if a tap had been turned on. - Your father was Aaron Hudson, a federal agent, and he was undercover in the Russian mafia before you were born. Andrei Romanov already commanded the mafia in the US and he discovered who Agent Hudson was. We don't know how, he had been undercover for a while and had the trust of Andrei and other high-ranking members. But he found out and kidnapped your mother and killed her, right in front of your father. I don't know all the details, but what I found out is that there was a girl there that day. A 7-year-old girl and I bet she was your sister, 'cause she died and you're here at 26 and without a gunshot wound to your head. They don't know you exist, Jasmine. If that's your name.

When the words stopped, Jamie raised her eyes to the agent's. She looked at him, not with tears in her eyes but with a blank, implacable gaze.

- Does Micah know who I am? - She asked with similar intonation. Her heart was racing so fast she could hear it beating.

- I don't think so. I think you are an ordinary girl for him.

- Are you sure?

- No.

- Then he could be using me.

- Like I said, I don't think so. You have nothing to offer him. No offense.

- Not taken. - She paused. - But what if he still wants revenge?

- Roman was a child at the time, Jasmine. He didn't know your father, and most likely he only heard this story a few times. His father is the one who murdered your family and like I said, he doesn't know you exist. In fact, nobody knows. My team and I only discovered you because we went very deep into it and even then I don't even have an explanation for your existence.

- How so?

- Your birth date is two months after the death of your parents, who also died in 1992. If they died on July 17th, how can you be born on September 20th?

- Well, like you said, my name shouldn't even be Jasmine. Whoever said I was born on September 20th was the same person who gave me this name and surname.

- You are right. - He tilted his head slightly, thinking about it. - If I could read your file...

- But you can't. - She interrupted his rambling. - And even so, this is more information than I would get even if I researched for the rest of my life. Thank you.

- Don't thank me. You still need to choose Jasmine. Roman or me. Who will you help?

****~****

Just before 5 p.m., Logan West pulled his black SUV to the curb in front of Jamie's house. The orange glow of the sun that spread across the sky and through the clouds made Jamie feel as if she had emerged from a perilous journey. She didn't say a word as she got out of the car and didn't even look at him as she closed the door. Her nerves were frayed, her adrenaline was in decline, and she was dying of sleep. She felt exhausted as she crossed the front lawn.

Jamie took out the house key and ran her fingers through the slots. A strange sensation rose through her chest, reached her neck, and made her ears ring. The hair follicles on her head stood on end. She was afraid of finding her grandma in the kitchen or living room. What would she say? Would she be able to lie and pretend she didn't know anything?

Would this ever be possible again?

But luckily for her, it looked like Debra wasn't home at the time. Jamie's feet dragged across the floor and then up the stairs. Her legs felt too heavy for her to lift with each step.

Agent West had said so much that Jamie didn't even know where to start thinking. She needed to sleep, lay down on her bed in the fetal position, and sleep. Maybe forever, so she wouldn't have to face anyone the next day.

She closed her bedroom door and threw her bag on the floor and her body onto her bed. She wanted to cry, she wanted to feel sad about her family but she couldn't. She couldn't shed a single tear over the death of her parents. And a sister? That was crazy.

On the way home, Jamie seriously thought about the possibility that West was lying. But why? And his story was the one that made the most sense considering everything she had been through since she was a child. The fact that she doesn't remember her parents, because she didn't know them. The photos of her as a child were explained with the appearance of a possible sister. The thousands of questions, when she was a kid, would also be explained by her grandmother and uncle's fear of the mafia discovering her existence. Her grandmother's constant fear of any strange person who approached her, and also for not wanting Jamie to move to Hartford with Jordan.

That's what Richard Keller wanted to tell her and Debra wouldn't allow it. What was she afraid of? For Jamie to go crazy and run away?

Lying on her bed, Jamie's eyes fell on the bracelet Micah had gifted her a few days ago. She took the silver jewelry and examined it carefully. At that moment, the small diamonds set in the heart pendant looked dull, unlike the day she received the gift. The dimly lit room didn't make the diamonds sparkle like it did on that occasion when the bright morning sun illuminated the precious stones. The difference was too great between the two moments as if the light of life had been drained from the diamonds just like hers.

But perhaps the lack of shine of the stones was just something created in her mind, after all that day the world that Jasmine Davenport - or whatever her name was - knew, collapsed. Some indecipherable correlation formed in her mind between the afternoon she met Micah and almost got hit by a car and that moment. Since then, her life seemed to have followed a downward trajectory in which everything culminated in the discovery of her true identity and then, collapsed in a fiery explosion.