Regardless, I knew that Monday would be a test unlike any I’d yet endured. I reached up to trace an index finger over the tattooed line of script on my left breastbone. The curving letters were simple and sat just above my heart, unadorned by flourishes or inky embellishments. When I’d gotten the tattoo three years ago, just days after I’d scattered Jamie’s ashes over the ocean, I’d known that the meaning behind the words was beautiful enough to stand on its own.
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
I shall either find a way or make one — that had never heldtruer than it did now.
I’d somehow summon the strength to work with Sebastian without falling to pieces or crossing any professional boundaries. I’d walk away with my job — and hopefully my soul — intact. My heart, I didn’t even bother to factor into the equation; after all, if I were being honest, Sebastian was still in possession of it after all these years.
I couldn’t blame him for any of it. He’d done nothing to me. For all intents and purposes, I was the villain here, who’d ripped out her own heart along with his all those years ago. I’d made a choice and, though I’d been living with the painof Sebastian’s absence for years now, it was an altogether different kind of torture to see him every day and interact with him, knowing I could never again have him as my own.
A glance at my cellphone screen informed me that it was already midmorning. If I wanted to get a run in before meeting Vera’s strangely secretive friend at three o’clock, I had to get a move on. After chugging down two Advil tablets with my morning coffee, I changed into sneakers and running attire and grabbed my iPod off the coffee table. Slipping on the headphones, I chose a pounding beat that I could keep pace with and turned the volume up loud enough that I couldn’t hear my own thoughts.
I headed for Central Park, maneuvering around clusters of people on the sidewalk and focusing on the feeling of my rubber soles smacking against the pavement with each stride. I ran my normal three-mile loop, then pushed on — faster, further, until my lungs ached and a cramp sliced into my side like a knife wound.
Until I forgot everything, and my world dwindled down to basic elements.
Inhale. Stride. Sweat. Exhale.
I ran until I thought I might pass out, finally forced to stop and gasp for air with my hands braced on my knees by a water fountain in the park. And as I drank my fill, my spasming muscles protesting greatly, the clarity from my run slipped away and my mind once again filled with worry. Sebastian’s face flashed in my thoughts and I couldn’t help but think no matter how far I ran…
I’d never outrun my past.
***
I sat in the crowded cafe at an unobtrusive table by the window, my fingers playing absently with the ends of my freshly showered hair. I crossed my legs beneath the table, barely suppressing a wince at my sore thigh muscles, and took a sip of the frothy latte I’d ordered.
I’d been waiting for about a half hour. The girl was now beyond what could be considered fashionably late and, at this point, I was beginning to worry she’d gotten cold feet and had decided not to come at all. What I couldn’t understand waswhy. Her note had directed me to a dimly lit, off-the-beaten-track coffee shop in the East Village — surely, none of her relatives would ever find us here. And even if they did, I still wasn’t sure why it was such a cause for alarm.
But the truth was, on the subway ride out here I’d had some time to think about my trip to the tenements yesterday. It might’ve been the aspiring journalist within me, making me see things that weren’t there, or maybe, as Fae said, it was just my inability to shed my southern roots and stop trying to take care of the people around me. Regardless of the reason, my whirling mind had eventually settled on one conclusion.
Namely, that the women who’d been so unfriendly and uncompromising were also quite obviously something else: afraid.
Their scanning eyes and flighty demeanors said, even to my untrained eyes, that they were scared of something — or someone. And while I supposed it was possible that they simply didn’t want some young, American nobody interfering with family business, I had a nagging, if unsubstantiated, feeling that there was something else going on here.
My thoughts turned to Vera as I fiddled with the silver and turquoise bracelet on my wrist, remembering the girl who’d given it to me so joyously. Her warm brown eyes had seemed to glow from within — full of life and youth and hope for the future. If there were anything I could do to ensure that future didn’t get snuffed out, I’d do it.
Yet, after another half hour of staring listlessly at the residual latte foam in my mug, I decided to give up for the day. This was a bust; the girl wasn’t coming. With a sigh, I rose from my seat and headed for the door.
I was almost there when I heard a familiar accented voice call out.
“Wait.”
I turned and spotted her in a shadowy corner on the opposite side of the cafe. There was an empty teacup sitting in front of her; evidently she’d been here a while, watching me without approaching. There was no way she’d missed me sitting by the front window.
Puzzled, I walked over to her table and stopped a few feet away.
“Please,” she implored, her eyes wide and apologetic. “I’m sorry. Just…please sit.”
I stared at her, my emotions wavering between confusion, sympathy, and worry. The girl was young — even younger than I’d thought yesterday, maybe thirteen or fourteen — and she was scared. That much was evident. I moved forward and sat across from her.
Down the rabbit hole,I thought, remembering Fae’s words.
“I’m Lux.” I held my hand out for the girl, and she hesitantly clasped her own palm against mine.
“Mirjeta,” she returned, her voice soft. “You can call me Miri.”
“Hi Miri,” I said, offering a smile to put her at ease. “Thanks for meeting me.”
She nodded, her light brown eyes scanning the perimeter of the coffee shop and her attention focused elsewhere.