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She cocks her chin. “For what?”
“For living while I slept. It was a surprise to wake up like this.” I glance down, scanning my very adult body. “I thought I’d still be a child, but I guess we’re more connected than I thought.”
“Meaning?”
“We aren’t really two different personalities, Angel. Otherwise, I’d still be eight years old up here.” I tap my finger against my temple. “I grew with you.” I let that statement float away into the night before attempting to put more of my thoughts into words. “I suppose instead of two different pennies, we’re just two sides of the same coin. It’s hard to explain.”
“No, I get it,” she says, covering my hand with hers. “I was there when you didn’t want to be, and you were there when I didn’t want to be. I guess that makes us kind of like twins.”
Twins. I like that. I miss my sisters. It’s nice to have another one.
But Angel never had any sisters. She never had a brother, or a Papa who tried to save her. All she ever had was my Angel of Death. I know she misses him. I see it in her sad eyes.
“He was good to us.” I squeeze her hand.
It’s dark, but I think there are tears in her eyes. Seeing them makes tears sting my own. Tears may be tools, but it’s okay if they’re a weakness sometimes.
Our Angel of Death taught us that.
“Yeah, he was,” she says, quietly. “He loved you, you know.”
I shake my head, because I know better. I was there for a few moments. I felt his arms around me. That’s a different kind of love I’ll never know. “Not like he loves you.”
Angel doesn’t argue. Instead, she drags her bare toe along the edge of the concrete. “So, what happens now?”
I look down. I can’t see where the night ends and the water begins. Maybe that’s for the best. “Remember what you always used to say? You can’t drown in the rain…”
“…as long as you run from the storm,” she finishes.
“I don’t need to run anymore, Angel. The storm is over.”
Her foot stops, and she looks up at me. “What are you saying?”
There’s so much I want to say, but there’s no more time. They’ll come for me soon, and I can’t let that happen. Not to me, and not to her.
I give her a sad smile. “I’m saying you were right all along. Some people are just meant to drown.”
Angel opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, the sound of hurried footsteps rush behind us. “Alexandra, no! Stop!”
I turn around to find a familiar man standing there. Even the night can’t hide his perfect silver hair and his Italian suit with the bright silk tie.
And I smile.
Because I remember him.
I remember him leading me out of that woman’s house and buckling my seat belt. I remember the pink teddy bear he stuffed in my hand before slamming the door. I remember the awkward hug he gave me when I begged him not to leave me at that group home.
“I knew you’d come. Still following me, huh, Luciano?”
“What the hell are you doing?” he yells, pacing while running a hand through that helmet of hair. “Climb back over that rail! Are you crazy?”
“That question is a little inappropriate considering the circumstances, don’t you think?” I roll my eyes and glance over at Angel to find her covering a giggle with her hand.
Luciano doesn’t find that as funny as we do, because he comes to a dead stop and glares at me. “Come on, kid. I’ve watched you grow up. I know you can’t swim.” Anger turns to panic as he comes closer, his hand outstretched. “You don’t want to do this. I helped you once, I can do it again.”
“I can’t stay here anymore. You know this is the way it has to be.” I motion between us. “This has to end with me. We both know if you keep knocking on the devil’s door, eventually, he’ll answer.”
I wish those words didn’t make his shoulders deflate like that. It makes me sad. I look down, then suddenly remember the envelope I’m holding against my chest. Pulling it away, I trace the name written on the front. This is how this was supposed to end. Our chapter closes here, and now we’re finally even.
