Chapter 27
Lana
After last night’s shift, I needed to crash hard.
Especially since it’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow, and I luckily only have a morning shift at the diner.
I got home at around two o’clock in the morning and went to bed immediately.
But before I went to bed, my friend Emin called me and told me he was almost done with his study on how hens move.
He always found it interesting and funny how they ran.
So he dove into books about hens, chickens, roosters, and all that was poultry.
The things he calls me about.
I’m sitting in my living room staring at the TV with a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal.
I woke up with a throbbing headache, and I’m thanking myself for not accepting a morning shift at the diner today.
A headache combined with an asshole boss is a recipe for disaster, and I wish it were that easy to quit my fucking job. As M has instructed me to do.
Last night was not only a punishment—he was confirming something sinister.
That no matter what he said or did, I would follow his lead.
All my life, I have been cared for by my parents, two wonderful people.
From an early age, I knew what my parents did for a living and what they loved to do on weekends, because they always made me feel like I was part of their experiences.
My mom gave me sound advice while my dad taught me how to defend myself.
The world is a scary place, and he made sure that I was aware of that.
Some would imply that he is overbearing, but I wouldn’t look at it that way.
My mom died when I was fifteen years old, and my dad took on that mantle of protector, friend, listener, and teacher.
He has taught me so many things, maybe some things that aren’t appropriate for a teenager, but I did them anyway.
I still hear his voice sometimes. Not like… ghosts or anything. Just echoes of advice I never wanted to forget.
And that thought makes me smile while my eyes tear up.
“I wonder where you are, Baba1.” I take a sip of my coffee and finish up my cereal. After I washed my dishes, I searched for a yoga instruction video on YouTube and spaced out for the next hour.
***
Because I haven’t had my fill of working out, I go to the gym, and it’s my luck that Emin is there as well.
When I walk in, I go straight to my locker and punch in my code to open it.
At this gym, you don’t need a locker, but you can rent one out, and I did.
I also put in a sneaky little device to protect me from thieves.
I walk into the big room full of equipment and go up to Emin.
“Hey, how have you been?” He stops doing his reps and sits on the bench with his hands between his knees.
“Good, just tired. The little hen I was trying to get to turned out to be a shit show.” I raise my eyebrows in concern.
“But don’t worry, I handled it. I figured out how to get to it, and now I only need to send the papers to the person handling her release.”
“Good! I am so happy you are finally getting that hen, she needs family. Speaking of family, where is your brother? Has he already arrived in Sarajevo?” I ask him. Emin’s brother is a salesman of sorts and travels a lot for his job.
“He did arrive yesterday. He is exploring the city for the first time in forever.”
“I hope you’ll get some alone time with him and talk about your debacle with the little hen.” I wink at him.
“We will. What have you been up to?” His question yanks me back to last night, and I can’t be candid with him.
“You know that. Which you also should have done, thank you very much.” Emin ignores that last part completely and focuses on the first one. And I hate him for that.
“You are blushing, Lana,” he says as he points a finger at me. “Was he there?” I nod at him while pursing my lips.
“Nice. What do you guys talk about anyway? He seems, I don’t know, intense.”
“He is all right. We actually talked about everything, and he seemed to open up and talk about his mom.”
“Really? That sounds amazing.”
“It is. Her name was Ajla, and get this, her birthday was on December twenty-fifth. On Christmas, how nice!”
“Totally. What are you going to do for the rest of the day?” I motion toward the gym.
“Not only that, of course. I’m also going to shop, and I’m going to treat myself.”
“You haven’t done that in a while, good for you. Do you want some of our friends to go with you?” I smile at him and shake my head. Emin and I have been friends for a very long time, and we have our own little friend group: his brother Daris and their cousins Ema and Omer.
“Not necessary, but they can always crash and say hello.”
“I think that Ema is also out on a shopping spree.”
“I bet she is. I’m going to do some squats and hit the treadmill, good?”
“Good. I’m off to get my hen and to finish up the papers. Bye, Lana!”
“Bye, Emin!"
For the rest of the day, I stayed at the gym.
Sweat slicked my skin as I pushed through another set of squats, the burn in my legs grounding me to the present. Every rep was a reminder that control started here—if I could master my body, the rest would follow.
I make my way out of the gym, and I hear footsteps behind me.
My dad taught me not to turn around if someone might be following me, so I don’t.
I would have come with my car to the gym, but I barely have any money left for gas, so I made the foolish decision to take public transportation.
My own legs are moving toward the bus station, but the sound of the footsteps behind me is not slowing down.
Somebody is following me.
I don’t dare turn around because I can’t look at the person following me.
My footsteps are suddenly loud against the cold pavement of the streets of Sarajevo.
What’s usually a busy city feels like a quiet hostage town now.
My heart is pounding against my chest, and my decision is made, and I can’t take it back.
And I don’t want to.
“Lana.”
Fuck.
The person behind me is probably only a couple of meters away, but I don’t care. I need to keep going. My hands are in the pockets of my coat, and I keep my head up.
I am at the bus station, and luckily, it’s crowded, and the bus arrives. I go into it at high speed and get off at my station to shop. With my ears perked up, I don’t hear any footsteps anymore. I go into the department store and do what I need to do.
1. "Dad" in the Bosnian language.