The Bodyguard ✔

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Early light rises in the east, above the tall pine trees alongside the road. A couple of hours ago, I called my dad with the burner Frank gave me. I told him my mom found me and that she's taking me to Europe right away. I wasn't aloud to say much more. Both Frank and my mom feared that my dad's phone could be tapped. I know I would probably see my dad again soon, once I'm safe and sound in Europe, but something stuck in my throat when I told him goodbye.

Once more I close my eyes, head leaning against the car window. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. In the past twenty-four hours alone, I have been betrayed by a man I thought I could trust, Jabari, I have kissed Frank, I was reunited with my mother after a full decade and a half, and I've witnessed the death of two men by the hands of my own mother. I don't want to sleep right now, even if it's just because I'm afraid of the dreams that might come to haunt me.

Instead, I just rest my eyes.

My mom has been making all sorts of calls, after my talk with dad. Even though she speaks softly, perhaps thinking I'm asleep and not wanting to wake me, I listen carefully to her voice. As in trance, I listen to the foreign and complex combinations of tones, oblivious as to their meaning. I wonder if her voice will ever sound familiar again.

I shift my gaze to the man sitting next to her. "There's nothing I would want more", he said.

It makes me smile.

At last I fall asleep, with the soothing thought that I'll be okay.

With Frank, I will be okay.

~Three years later~

I water my mint plant, resting peacefully on the windowsill. I managed to keep him alive for more than a month. Never having kept a green life lush and living for this long before, I unexpectedly found him growing on me. I thus baptized him 'Gary' and allocated him to the most luxurious spot in my apartement a plant can wish for. Too bad I have to say goodbye to him now.

Squinting my eyes against the rising sun, I reread the birthday card I got last night. 'Dear princess. I miss you so. I can't believe my little girl is already turning 21! I am so very proud of you. Much love. Dad.' I press the card against my chest, as if it somehow would bring me closer to him.

I haven't seen my father since he last visited me, here in Lyon, about six months ago.

I put the card beside my little plant, as though they might keep each other company, and I put on a winter coat while taking one last look of my apartment.

Au revoir.

And that's it. I leave and don't look back.

I walk down the stairs and as soon as I swing open the front door, I brace myself for the harsh January winter wind. With lifted shoulders, I bury my face into my scarf and walk stark ahead. I've walked only one block, when the icy air begins to sting the skin on my cheekbones.

Almost there. I repeat as a mantra, giving me mental strength to battle these chilling forces of nature just a little longer.

Finally, I find shelter against a stone wall of a majestic post-medieval church. Shielded from harsh winds, I attempt to warm my hands. Off all days, today had to be the coldest. How very fitting.

I press my weight against a massive oak door, to open it. Once inside, I repeat the action in reverse, and the door ultimately closes with a sound baritone.