Adrien #3
A small wine rack in the kitchen holds enough expensive bottles to make me wonder whether she actually drinks them or just likes looking sophisticated.
What catches my attention more is everything that’s missing.
There are no little decorations, no souvenirs, no framed photographs, no random clutter people usually collect throughout their lives. As if the apartment refuses to tell me anything about her beyond the fact that she has good taste and reads a lot.
It feels lonely.
Same as our place.
Eventually, I stop by her desk and glance over the piles of papers spread across it.
Curiosity gets the better of me, so I start shuffling through articles, reports, and handwritten notes, my eyes lazily skimming titles and highlighted paragraphs.
Most of it is work, some of it looks painfully boring.
Then my fingers land on a police file. That looks significantly more interesting.
I open it and one page turns into another. Crime scene photos, witness reports, forensic notes. The deeper I get into it, the more familiar it all starts to look. Then I pull out a photograph showing two dead men.
One of them has a piece of skin carved out of his shoulder and the other is missing his head entirely.
I tilt my head and smile proudly.
Yeah. That was me.
I’m still admiring my work when Kasien steps out of the bathroom with Kiara in his arms and I turn to him with the photo between my fingers.
“Remember this?”
He shifts Kiara slightly and steps closer to look at it. “Yeah. And?”
“And yet somehow I’m not scary?”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Let’s go, I’ll put her in the car.”
I quickly put everything back where I found it and hurry after them.
As we get to the car, I open the back door for them and he carefully lies her down on the back seat. Then he just stands there.
“Drive slowly, okay?” he says hesitantly, staring at her while I stare at him.
“Of course,” I assure him. “I’m a gentleman.”
“I’ll try to be back as soon as possible. If she wakes up, don’t tell her anything and especially don’t tell her that I’m alive.”
He shuts the door and leaves back to the apartment building. I get behind the steering wheel and start the engine, glancing back at her through the rearview mirror.
A sick sense of déjà vu from six years ago washes through me, making me grip the steering wheel harder.
She was out just like this when I drove her to the airport.
The memory crawls out of whatever dark corner I’ve spent years trying to bury it in and instantly settles in my gut. It’s the same memory that still finds me in the worst nightmares, waking me up in the middle of the night with my heart racing.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the headrest for a second, forcing the image away before it can pull me under with it.
Deep breath. Let’s focus on the current situation.
I break the haze and turn toward Kiara.
She’s drowning in Kasien’s clothes, one of her arms hanging limply from the back seat.
“So,” I start. “What do you listen to?”
I use the silence to analyze her music taste.
“You seem like a pop person,” I conclude confidently.
I turn back to the road, put on a random playlist, and take off.
?
The car rolls to a stop as we pull into the garage. I get out and open the back door, trying to figure out how to handle this as respectfully as I can.
“This is awkward,” I announce toward her unconscious body. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. But I gotta tuck you into bed.”
I shift in place, thoroughly uncomfortable with the situation and pretty nervous she’ll miraculously wake up and scream.
“I’m gonna call you Troubles, because that’s what you are right now—trouble,” I state, still leaning against the back door.
“You can call me whatever you want. I’m probably gonna seem arrogant, but I’m really just a lonely and deeply sad person,” I say, met only by her silence.
“You seem clever, so you’ll probably figure that out.”
I finish the one-sided conversation and finally scoop her into my arms, closing the car door with my foot.
As I carry her into the second wing, I can’t stop my mind from building impossible scenarios and some sort of master plan.
Maybe my life is not ending yet.
For years, I’ve watched Kas slowly turn into a ghost and convince himself that there was nothing left to fight for.
But today, I’ve seen panic and fear in him. And care.
If Kiara can somehow bring the old Kasien back, maybe everything doesn’t have to stay broken forever. Maybe they’ll find their way back to each other and maybe, somehow, that means that I can also—
I’m not sure what it means yet.
Everything about this just feels strangely motivating and refreshing. The future suddenly doesn’t feel completely empty.
I gingerly lower her onto the bed and cover her with the sheets, standing above her, smiling maliciously.
Especially don’t tell her that I’m alive.
Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna follow that instruction.
“You might be our new hope, Troubles,” I tell her through a smile before I leave the bedroom and lock the chambers we just assigned to her.
If she only knew the amount of expectations I’ve already piled onto her unconscious shoulders.