Epilogue
The phone rings and startles them both awake. Louisa’s small pregnant swell of a belly is the first thing Hudson reaches for in pure panic. Knowing what he would need to protect most in case of an emergency.
But Louisa is fine, he can tell by the look on her face, just confused. Disoriented as she sits up yawning, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as he reaches for his phone before it hits a third ring.
“What’s on fire?” he asks, as his friend did, being awoken from what he can assume was only the same blissful sleep next to his real wife at the time. Though the quick glance back to Louisa reminds him how real this all is.
But Lucas doesn’t speak. What claws its way through the phone is gasping sobs on the other end of the line. Fractured in a way that doesn’t sound like his friend at all. The pit that forms in Hudson’s stomach speaks to something far worse than he could have imagined.
“Paola?” he asks, as she struggles for words.
Her native Portuguese comes through rather than English in her state.
He hops out of bed, knowing whatever it is that resulted in this call will require shoes and pants.
Louisa follows suit, not waiting for any direction.
“Paola, I’m getting dressed, I’m coming to you. ”
Finally her voice comes through, two words that were unimaginable before they were spoken.
“He’s dead.”
Everything bottoms out. Hudson stops moving, frozen except for a hand that begins to shake.
“What are you talking about,” he asks. The strain on his voice matches hers as Louisa moves to stand in Hudson’s chest. He wraps an arm around her, needing her as close as can be.
She just looks up at him, waiting for him to explain, watching the terror on his face.
“ICE, they killed him.”