“Yes,” the Agent stepped forward, and Colin bit back a feeling of annoyance as he stepped back. “Angela, I’m sure Agent Douglas has work to attend, and a debriefing to give. Your parents and I will be here—”
“Mr. Douglas,” Angela called. He’d already begun making his way to the door, but he turned at the sound of her voice. “You’ll be back?” So much hope and fear in those words. It stabbed at him. He knew this thing between them, whatever it was, was not healthy, but he couldn’t tear himself away.
“I’ll be back,” he promised. “You’re safe here.”
Agent MacDonald pursed her lips at him and made a motion toward the door, like he was a parent reluctant to leave their child and dragging out the separation anxiety. He shot her a glare in return. He’d let himself be pushed away by Angela or her parents, but not this woman. With one last nod to Angela and her frightened, lost eyes, he turned to go. On the way out, Angela’s mother touched his forearm and gave him a tender look of appreciation before returning her attention to her daughter.
Nobody should have to go through what this family was experiencing. Vengeance rose like a thick bramble through his torso and limbs, scraping his flesh from the inside. He needed to do something. Stop others from this kind of suffering.
He needed to kill Fernando.
Everything felt wrong. Like a strange dream. My parents—my parents!—wore constant smiles, expressions which were at odds with the turmoil I felt every minute. I so wanted to be happy, too. In the far reaches of my mind I knew how I should be feeling, but I wasn’t quite capable of reaching it.
Especially when Mr. Douglas was out of my sight.
Mom showed me to the restroom to shower and closed the door for me. A flare of panic, like I was going to get in trouble, burned across my skin as I stared at the closed door and then swung my head around at the bathroom.
Alone. Private.
I began to shake as I backed into the wall and slid down, holding myself at the middle. Overwhelming gratitude for this moment of privacy shook my body.
I was allowed to be alone. There were probably no cameras, and I could do whatever I wanted! Not that I wanted to do anything, but still! God, I’d never wanted to kiss a bathroom floor before that moment.
Through the entire shower, I trembled, peeking now and then around the curtain to see the door still closed. Afterward I dressed in a pair of jeans and a soft cotton shirt. They were too big, but I remembered them from my old life. Another tsunami of nostalgia rushed me, threatening tears in its wake. How long had it been since I wore jeans? Or a shirt that was solely for the purpose of comfort? Or underwear that actually covered my ass?
Mom was waiting for me, watching from a nearby room. I knew she was trying not to suffocate me, but she couldn’t help herself. She looked hesitant and timid, so I held out my hand and the doubt left her face.
I found myself constantly looking for Mr. Douglas, and feeling a heady flood of relief and excitement whenever I heard the rumble of his voice from a nearby room, or when I caught a glance of him walking past. Each time I had to restrain myself from calling out for him or running to him.
And we were only two hours into the first morning.
I’d put off talking to Agent MacDonald as long as I could. She’d been a force looming over me all morning, watching from doorways with those inspector eyes, silently rushing me. Mom had taken to glaring at the woman over her shoulder, but the Agent was unperturbed. Clearly, she’d wait all day. As much as I didn’t want to talk to her, I also wanted to get it over with so she could leave.
When I finally approached she said, “Aye, good. Let’s talk in the office.”
The office wasn’t much more than a desk with a lamp, and some miscellaneous boxes, as if the man who lived here had never fully settled in.
Agent MacDonald motioned for me to sit across from her at the desk, and I stiffened as her eyes bore into me. I wished she wasn’t so beautiful and intimidating. I felt like a filthy little creature in baggy clothes. She set a tape recorder on the desk and hit record. I thought people were supposed to ask permission to do that. But maybe that was only in movies. I probably would have just told her yes anyway.
She twined her fingers and placed them on the notepad in front of her. “How are you feeling this morning, Angela?”
How to explain? I felt a little of everything. Every minute a different strong emotion would hit.
“I’m…I don’t know. Okay.”
“Okay,” she repeated. “I imagine the abrupt change of lifestyle would be quite confusing to the system, aye?”
“Yes,” I whispered.