It was early but not too early to get up, so I wrapped myself in a blanket and moved to the couch. Little Ned, the aloe plant, still sat on the windowsill. I’d given him some water when I got home the night before and was pleased to see that he wasn’t in too bad of shape. It was past the two-week watering schedule, but he was still green, albeit a little droopy.
Grabbing a pen and paper, I started working on a plan for myself—short-term goals first. I would need to touch base with Stephanie as soon as I could. Rent and other bills would need to be paid. Tamir had insisted I took the money from my uncle, but there was no way I’d touch that blood money. It sat in the duffel bag in my closet, and it would stay there until I figured out what to do with it.
I was going to need a job, but I was too embarrassed to go back to Jalisco’s. Olivia was sweet, but her father would never overlook the fact that I walked away without any notice. I would also need to call the shelter and apologize for disappearing. I wasn’t sure if I would go back to volunteering, but I had to at least let them know I was all right.
The only other part of my life in New York worth addressing was my Krav Maga lessons.
I still wanted to learn, but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go to Tamir’s studio. I needed space from him, but it made me heartsick to think of not seeing him at all. Unable to commit to an answer on that one, I left it for reconsideration later.
It was still early, but I went ahead and texted Steph.
Me: I’m back in the city. It was all a misunderstanding. I’ll explain in person.
Her reply was immediate.
Stephanie: Starbucks on 54th, how quickly can you be there?
Me: An hour.
Stephanie: I want to hear every tiny detail.
That would be a problem. I wasn’t crazy about lying to her, but I couldn’t tell her about Tamir. Not the full story, anyway. I needed her to know I was back, and everything was all right, but that put me in a sticky situation. I had to spend the next hour carefully outlining what I could and couldn’t tell her.
The second I stepped into the coffee shop, Stephanie threw her arms around me. “I was so freaking worried about you.”
We’d had a professional relationship before my disappearing act, but I got the feeling the trauma of it had changed our dynamic. We put in our orders and claimed a small table in the back corner where we could talk privately.
“Now, tell me, how the hell was there a misunderstanding that made you think you’d been made, and where have you been for the past three weeks?”
I went with a good chunk of truth and simply omitted the parts that she didn’t need to know. She knew about the attack in the alley, but I explained how Tamir had tracked me down and helped me. I told her he was ex-Special Forces and how he ended up coming with me on the road at the last minute. How he’d tracked me down and his reasons for doing so were irrelevant. I explained that we went to a cabin of his, and while we were there, a detective friend of his tracked down the attacker and discovered he was just some gangbanger looking to rob me for cash—a little white lie in the middle wasn’t going to kill anyone. I continued to explain that I was still so anxious about being found that I had jumped to conclusions and thought I’d been tracked down.
“So this man you were with, he knows you’re in the program?” She eyed me warily.
“He does.” I nodded.
“Do you trust him?”
“With my life.” No hesitation. No doubts.
She smiled softly. “I hate that you had to go through this, but it’s an enormous relief to know we didn’t have a leak. We’ve been tearing the department apart, trying to figure out how your location could have been identified. WitSec hasn’t experienced that kind of breach in over a decade. Everyone will be relieved to hear it was a false alarm.”
“I know I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Will that affect my enrollment in the program?” My stomach churned as I waited on her answer. In theory, I didn’t need their assistance, now that Los Zares thought I was dead, but I wanted all the protection I could get.
“Secrecy is important, but if you trust this man, his knowledge shouldn’t affect your security or our ability to protect you.”
“Thank God. I’d been worried sick that you’d kick me out.”
She placed her hand on mine and gave me a warm smile. “Emily, we’re here to keep you safe. We aren’t walking away from you unless you do something that makes our job impossible.”
“Thanks, Stephanie.” This time around, I was going to have to do a better job of getting to know her. She was a few years older than me, but I truly liked the woman. My time on the road made me realize how important friends could be, even when opening up to others was scary.
“Now, are you going to tell me about this man you spent three weeks with?” Her words were loaded with innuendo.
“Not even a little, but you are going to tell me where in the hell you dug up Reggie. That guy was a piece of work, and I’m dying to know how you two crossed paths.”
She burst out laughing, segueing our conversation into much more lighthearted topics.
When we wrapped up, I walked home rather than taking the subway. It was shaping up to be a mild winter’s day, and I needed the outdoor air. It wasn’t the same as the refreshing feel of walking through the woods, but it was better than nothing. I’d gotten used to walking among the trees to help clear my head, and a part of me longed to go back to those simple days.
Once I was home, I googled local restaurants and started to make a list of places to submit job applications. This time, I wouldn’t settle for a waitressing job. I was capable of more, and I would use the degree paperwork WitSec had provided to get a managerial position. With the stipend the government was paying me to get by, I had enough time to secure a job I was proud of, and I wouldn’t settle for less.
I sat with my thumb over the shelter’s number in my contacts for the longest time. They’d ask if I was going to resume volunteering, and I didn’t have an answer to that question. Something was holding me back, but I wasn’t sure what. I wanted to help. I wanted to see the women again and be a part of the solution. So why was I reluctant to go back?
Without a forthcoming answer, I shook off the unease and dialed the number. The director answered and was far more welcoming than I felt I deserved after disappearing unexpectedly. She assured me there were no hard feelings, and I always had a place as a volunteer at the shelter.
Two days later, I was back in the kitchens, helping prepare an industrial-size batch of spaghetti and catching up with the ladies. There was a new addition to the group. A young girl, around the age of nineteen, who kept to herself, still not settled in among her new family. It grated at me to see a girl so young who had already been out on the streets. I knew it wasn’t uncommon, but it nettled that part of me that felt powerless. She was just another glaring example of how little was being done to fix the problem.
Everything we did was reactionary. Each day I worked at the shelter, I felt increasingly frustrated rather than fulfilled. I wanted to know my efforts were proactive. That I was helping to prevent the abuse and trauma before it even started and not just sweep up the mess that was left behind.
Chapter 29
Emily