Chapter 2
ROSE
Sister Agatha Maria stands silently watching, her hands clasped as if in prayer as the driver loads my case into the trunk.
I am dressed as a civilian in a smart dress with a woollen coat, sensible shoes and clutching a purse made of cheap man-made fabric.
My sisters are in their familiar habits as their departure will be later than mine, and my heart beats frantically as I prepare to say goodbye.
The driver stands beside the open door of the passenger seat, and I swallow hard.
“Good luck, my child.”
Sister Agatha stands before me, tears welling in her eyes, a slight quiver to her lips. Her expression is anxious, which doesn’t help matters, and I experience a moment of doubt as one life fades and another takes its place.
She holds out her arms and, as they close around me, she kisses my cheek and whispers, “Stay true to yourself and you won’t go wrong.”
“I’ll miss you.”
My voice is but a bare whisper, and she answers, “And I you. But like every mother, it’s important to cut ties and let your child make their own way in life, even if that road leads back to your door.”
“Thank you, I mean, for everything.”
I’m not talking about the way she has given us a home but for her love too.
I lost my mother to suicide, and I have never really gotten over that.
Part of me is worried that I inherited the same demons, and I suppose that has made me stronger than my sisters.
I am determined to be better, and so with a soft smile I hug her tightly and whisper, “It’s only one year. ”
“Of course.” She pulls away, and I turn to Alice, a huge lump in my throat almost choking my words.
We fall into each other’s arms, and I whisper, “I’ll miss you.”
“I am already.”
It tears a slight chuckle from my lips because she always has to go one better, and as we pull apart, we grin.
“Take care you.” I whisper, and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears as she nods.
“Take care you.”
“One year.” I remind her, and she nods.
“One year.”
I turn to Tiffany, who is openly sobbing, and hug her, whispering fiercely, “You are strong, remember that, and this will be the making of you.”
Her hands grip me tightly, and my heart actually breaks as she gulps, “I love you, Rose.”
Tears blind me as I pull Alice into the huddle and say fiercely, “I love you more than anything. Stay safe and strong and know that I will always be thinking of you. If you need me, call the number and demand it. We have nothing if we don’t have each other, and always remember that.”
They nod vigorously, and Sister Agatha interrupts, “You must leave at once, Rose. Your flight will not wait for your goodbyes.”
I turn and with one last lingering glance at the only people who matter to me in the world, I step inside the cab away from them.
I fasten my belt and as I press my face to the window, I hold up my hand, my fingers drifting across the cold glass. Tiffany and Alice are crying buckets, and as the cab pulls away, I mouth, “I love you.”
I don’t get to see their reply because the cab makes short work of pulling away, and as they disappear into the distance, I’m stunned to discover that my tears have been replaced with the biggest smile on my face.
I’m free, and it feels fantastic.
Now that I have left, it’s as if I have been gifted the keys to my cage and I am stretching my wings. I gaze with interest at the outside world as we pass, most of it in a blur as we eat up the miles toward the airport.
Air travel is not new to me; my father owned several private jets. We lived a luxurious life until he died and left us with a stepmother from hell.
It didn’t take her long to send us away to boarding school. A move we were actually grateful for. It suited us to be away from her and her scheming, evil ways, and life at the boarding school was a welcome reprieve from life in Sicily.
I never appreciated the stronghold we lived in, and it seems that has become normal in my life. Imprisoned from birth in a gilded cage before heading to a school that locked our dorms at night.
A shiver passes through me when I revisit Canton House Academy in my mind because it definitely wasn’t a fun place to be.
However, it was there we hatched our plan never to return to Sicily, and once we located The Order of The Holy Mother of God from Google no less, we made plans to head to Switzerland and safety.
So, this is the first time in my life that I am free. Without my sisters, without a locked door, and without any idea of where I am going and what will be expected of me. It’s a lot to take in, and as my fingers tangle in my lap, I clutch my purse close and attempt to steady my breathing.
I am free, and it means more than I ever thought it would.
I stare out of the window for the entire journey to the airport, and yet as we pass the exit, it prompts me to say out loud, “I thought we were going to the airport.”
The driver says nothing, and a stirring of unease ripples through me as I say a little louder, “Excuse me, sir, I think we missed the exit.”
Again, he says nothing, and my heart pounds as I sense something is wrong.
From the grim set of his jaw that is reflected in the interior mirror, I remain tight-lipped and gather my wits about me. This isn’t right. It’s a premonition deep inside me, and my mind races to come up with a plan if shit gets real.
He overtakes several cars and then cuts in before one and veers off at the next exit, and we appear to be heading toward the private airfield on the other side of the airport.
I relax a little because of course, we must be traveling in the company jet of the person who is arranging our accommodation and job. I glance out of the window with interest at the executive jets and larger ones that separate the elite from the masses.
The car stops at a security gate, and with a cursory glance inside, the security guard waves us through.
My nerves have been replaced with curiosity as we stop at the foot of the steps of a black jet with no insignia on the tail.
Something prickles on my nerve endings because surely this isn’t right. I don’t know why, perhaps because I haven’t been a member of civilization for so long but I kind of thought I’d be traveling on a commercial jet.
The cab comes to a stop where a red carpet runs up to the steps that have lowered from the aircraft.
The door to the aircraft is open, and I can just make out the pilot as he carries out his pre-flight checks.
His aviator sunglasses are disguising his identity, and I have a premonition that something is very wrong about this.
I notice the driver talking to a man who is guarding entry to the plane, and they glance in my direction, causing my heart to pound. Nothing about this feels right, and I clutch my purse to my chest as if it’s a lifeline.
The guard nods, and the driver heads toward my door, and yet before he reaches it, he stops, and his attention is diverted elsewhere.
Then, in one split second everything changes as gunfire breaks out and the cab driver’s head explodes before my disbelieving eyes.