Page 142 of Sinful Lord

… His family…

I remember the story he told me about their first heist. I picture the mugshots. I see a young Gabriel. I see Krol.

I see Rozalia.

Rozalia.

My mind latches onto her.

What would she do?

Rolling onto my side, I stare towards the bathroom. Part of me wants to give up. Strip away all my worries and let them wash down the drain with a hot shower.

But I know I won’t be able to shake this.

So, how do I control it?

My brain stays fixed on the thought of my best friend.

Rozalia.

If she were in my situation, how would she handle it?

The answer seems obvious. She would play both sides to her advantage. She would wrap everyone around her little finger and make them dance.

But I’m not as strong as her, and despite Tytus’ best intentions, I’m not nearly as experienced either.

But maybe I don’t have to be…

Suddenly, I have an idea.

Pushing my sore body off the bed, I wearily search for my laptop. It’s easy enough to find. Opening it up, I plop down next to Tytus’ computer.

Without thinking too hard about it, I go to my emails and open up a new message.

Then I start writing.

In my mind, I’m talking to my brother. I’m telling him about everything that’s happened, about where I am, about what I miss back home, about what I fear for my future.

Every thought comes pouring out.

It’s so therapeutic I don’t even realize I’ve practically written an entire essay until I take a moment to breathe.

But the moment, I stop, so does the relief the writing has provided. All of a sudden, I’m intensely homesick.

I miss you, are the last words I type.

Leaning back, I study the wall of text I just created and chew on my tongue. Eventually, my gaze falls on the address bar at the top of the email. It’s empty.

I fix that.

After typing in Rian’s email, I take another moment to breathe. Outside, a peaceful afternoon shimmers off an endlessly blue lake.

I think of how far I’ve come.

And how much further I want to go.

But I also think of how dangerous and uncertain my future is.