The Agent
I haven’t been home since my funeral.
The streets I used to know by heart are like strangers now. I barely recognized the routes I used to take for my runs or the shortcuts I used to take when I was running late to work. Has it really been that long? Or have they just lost meaning all too quickly?
The house I used to know as a second home definitely didn’t hold the value it once did.
I kept staring at the door that was always open to me, trying to remember the warmth I felt in my stomach whenever I walked inside.
But the memories never came. Tainted by the truth, nausea was the only thing that accompanied them now.
It was a good thing the bastard wasn’t home. I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t shoot him the first chance I got.
Instead, a car that wasn’t his sat in the driveway and another sat a few feet further up the block. Plain-clothed agents, no doubt.
The trail of his dead friends must’ve tipped him off, which is fine. It’s good he knows I’m coming for him.
“We won’t get anything from here,” Mateo chimed from behind me. He was sitting in the back, flicking through documents on the computer. “According to his file, he’s on vacation.”
“Yeah, sometimes we put that as a disguise for productive custody. Getting a location is going to be tough if they’re using code words in the file.”
“Yeah, they’ve encrypted a lot of this shit to keep it tight. Maria’s gonna have to open it up for us.” He glanced away from the screen to shoot me a small smirk. “You got ‘em shaking in their boots.”
I beamed at the pride in his smile.
He rose from his seat and slipped into the driver’s side of the van. The engine came to life with one flick of the keys. He pulled away from the curb we’d parked beside and pulled off down the road.
I stared out the window at the row of lawns, littered with patches of grass rising up from the brown soil towards the warm sun.
As we turned a corner, my eyes caught a glimpse of the park where Isabelle and I used to go when we were younger.
I remembered racing around the field beside the playground and kicking our legs to be the highest on the swings.
Our laughter rang through my ears, and I almost smiled at the innocence entwined in it.
Isabelle always lingered in the back of my mind. There were so many things I wanted to know, but wasn’t able to ask. Like how is wedding planning going? Is she liking her promotion at work? Is she okay?
I needed the answer to the last question more than anything.
Twisting my fingers, I glanced at Mateo, weighing the words that wanted to leave my lips. “Can we stop by Isabelle’s house?” I asked. “We don’t have to park or anything. We’ll just drive by.”
“No,” he replied, his voice firm.
“Why not? If we’re quick, she won’t even-”
“No,” he repeated, shooting me a stern look.
“Please,” I pleaded. “I just want to see her.”
He glanced at me again. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath at the sight of my poked bottom lip and puppy dog eyes. “Fine,” he muttered, turning the car around another corner. “I’ve broken enough rules for you. What’s another one?”
I relished in my victory with a smile. Perking up in my seat, I watched as the roads became more familiar, eventually leading to the cottage style home my sister owned.
Her car was sitting in the driveway, lights still on and smoke billowing from the tailpipe. Through the light tint of her windows, I could see Isabelle sitting inside. Her head was down, and she was shuffling through her purse. She pulled out her keys and pressed a button that killed the engine.
The orange polka dots on her jacket shone almost as brightly as the sun as she climbed out of the car.
Juggling her water bottle and coffee jug in her hands, she slung her purse over her shoulder and wearily walked up the cobble pathway.
Her shoulders hung low, and her lips were pulled into a subtle frown.
Though she looked worn down from her day, the simple sight of her brightened mine.
I watched her take the short trek towards her front door, resisting the tug pulling me towards her. As much as I wanted to hop out of the van and tackle her into a hug, I knew I couldn’t. My chest ached at the reminder that I may never feel the warmth of her embrace again.
“What’s wrong?” Mateo asked, noticing as I sank back into the passenger seat. “I thought this would make you happy.”
“It did,” I admitted. “But I just…I miss her, and it…it hurts that I can’t talk to her. That she can’t know I’m alive.”
“I understand,” Mateo said with a slow nod. “Letting go of the people you used to know is always hard.”
“Have you seen anyone from your past life since…?” I waved my hand, reluctant to remind him about the tragedy he experienced. He hadn’t said much about the aftermath. Did the ambush make the news? What did the public think happened to their family? Did anyone else know he was alive?
He shook his head. “There wasn’t anyone to go back to,” he murmured. He raised a brow. “Why? Are you thinking about going back?”
I averted my eyes. “I was just thinking about what happens after all of this is over. Once Logan is dead and all the corrupt agents’ wrongdoing is exposed, my life isn’t at risk anymore. The people in my life would understand why I had to disappear.”
“And the authorities would piece together your role in their deaths and convict you quicker than they’d thank you.”
I crossed my arms, trying to shield myself from the harsh truth.
Mateo sighed. He lay a hand on my arm and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he said, softening his voice. “But your life will never go back to the way it used to be.”