I sat on a stone step next to the drift filled punching bag. “What ya doing, kid?” She eyed me, continuing her assault on it. Her tiny knuckles bled, the flesh tearing with each hit.
“Training.”
“You’re eight,” I grumbled. “What do you have to train for?”
“Dad says after the incident I shouldn’t show my face in the city. Says I disgrace the family name.”
“What does mama say?”
The young girl’s lips pinched together. “To indulge him. That he’ll calm down in due time.”
I grunted. “She always did have a soft spot for father.”
She raised her hands, staring at her bloody fingertips. Her head raised. “Does dad ever get better?”
I smiled. I got to my feet and patted her head. “Nah, but life does.”
Huge eyes peered up at me. “Do we become a general?”
“We do,” I confirmed.
“Do we like it?”
I bit my tongue. “We like our friends.”
A grin spread across her face. “We have friends?”
I turned, hiding the contempt I held for the man she admired. The mere mention of a simple thing such as friends made her excited? I wondered how she’d react if I told her she had siblings too. They weren’t blood, but they accepted us into their family with open arms. “We do. You aren’t going to ask about your parents?”
The sparkle in her pure sapphire eyes dimmed. “How are they?”
“Dead.” Her lips parted. “It wasn’t your fault,” I added.
How could I tell her we killed our father? He may deserve it, but she didn’t know that yet. Her mother was still alive. There were four months until he murdered her. There were two years until he tried to murder us. She’d find out just how much he loved us then.
“Mama?” She whispered.
I touched her shoulder. “We found a letter from her telling us how much she regrets her lack of affection. She wanted you to know how much she treasured you and hoped you could forgive her.”
“She wrote that?”
“Yeah.” No. She didn’t.
She bounced with a newfound enthusiasm. “My friends, do they live here? Will I meet them soon?”
“Not yet, kiddo. You’ve got some time before that happens.”
“How much?”
“Try nine years,” I laughed.
“Nine,” she gasped. “I’ll be old by then.”
“You’re telling me? How do you think I feel?”
She drifted over. “Ancient,” she remarked. This kid. I couldn’t even fault her. I would’ve said the same. Well…I did say the same technically speaking. Her eyes glistened. “Are we happy?” I pulled her into my arms. “Because I don’t feel happy,” she hiccupped. “I want friends now. I want mama to love me today. I don’t want them to die.” Her sobs grew. “I don’t want to be alone.”
I held her at arms length, shaking my head. “You aren’t going to be alone.” I booped her nose. “I just told you that, silly.”
Her face scrunched like I knew it would. “I’m not a child.” We rarely got treated like one.
I couldn't help but hug her once more. “You are.” She needed the reminder. The way he treated her wasn’t normal, the way he treated us. Releasing her I wiped the streaks running down her cheeks. “I have to go. They’re waiting for me. For us.”
“I want to go with you. I want to meet them.”
“You will meet them, I promise. It won’t always be like this.”
I let her small hand fall from mine, spinning my back to her. I rubbed my sleeve against my wet face. Leaving her here was the right decision. If I chose to rescue her our future would shift. If I made her confess to our uncle we’d never get on that plane. He’d make sure of that. If I hid her somewhere far away she’d never meet our siblings who lived a country away.
And our friends.
I really wanted us to meet our friends. I lived it once she’d do it again. It was worth it. I paused. Or…or what if I gave her the location of our family, friends, and husband. They’d think we were insane when we met them. What would she tell them? That her future self told her they were destined to meet.
I faced her.
She’d grow up without the scars. We’d grow up without the scars. Millions of lives would be spared.
Our future would be put at risk, I reminded myself. Our future was the reason people lost their families, their friends, their homes. My future was not worth more than theirs. Millions of lives would be saved, so what if mine didn’t go how I wanted. I’d make it happen. I’d find the people closest to me again. I’d write a list. Maybe I could find them sooner. She wouldn’t have to wait nine years like I did. She’d get her happy ending now.
I marched back to her, grabbing her hand. “I’m sorry,” I told her.
She pouted. “What for?”
“The risk I’m about to take. Forgive me if it doesn’t turn out the way I hope.”
She resisted, trying to yank her hand out of mine. “No! I want to be happy,” she shouted.
I took her by the shoulders. “You will be! You just have to follow my instructions. Okay?”
She stiffened. “You promise?” She blubbered.
“I promise.”
and then Add to home screen.