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Every meticulous plan possessed an unpredicted pitfall.

Hard enough, the decision to contact Jacob, starting a conversation with him, a struggle, had its virtue. It took me days to reason about the discourse opening. And now that I have no choice...

My thumb pressed the phone's surface, ending the call.

I sighed, the cold air freshened by the boiled blood of my veins.

Through the glass wall, my annoyance cooled atop the transparent surface, distorting my reflection into something hideous. At this instant, nothing tempting as much as venting my frustration.

My eyes leaped above the vapor stain created by my breath. Escaping. Dispersing the anger. The campus spread wide beneath my sight.

Like a teased ant colony, the students swarmed in every direction. Individually or in groups. The mundane routine of the campus daily life, I felt standing on the edges of its existence observing it. Being part of it and yet swimming outside its borders. The same as an outcast.

The clock tick-tocks the passage of time. The afternoon classes were starting, though my appetite to participate waned.

I shun my head away from the grand view, blocking the unwanted thoughts. This wasn’t the best time for meditating on my life course or regretting it. In few steps away stood someone behind my back, waiting, watching...

Arm crossed, back to the wall, August’s face hardly reflected on the glass, rather a half distorted image of quiet and anticipation. His presence was imminent through the silently radiated questions.

His gaze worked a hole in my back. Searching for his clarification.

Before I turned to face him, I paralyzed each inch of my spread expression, cracked a thankful smile, then stepped down, swaying his phone between my fingers.

He looked at my hand while I looked at his visage. Aside from the palpable irritation about the way I treated his phone, I could savor the confusion beneath the polite facade.

Load over a load of doubt traced his manners. However, no word made its path to my ears.

The tactfulness he was famous for saving me the pain of crafting a lie and remembering it.

Not saying I am in a better position than him. Equal to the backseat spot of his, I was also walking in darkness.

He caught the phone from my grasp. Along with a few answers about the disturbing relationship I have with my brother.

I wonder… What did he think?

What had Jacob told him? His refined behavior? The purpose behind this prearranged meeting? And above all of them, Am I going to play assistant for the Olvera boy?

Only one thing was certain, for me,… Not only the huge, intentional miscommunication between us, brothers. On the ground level, Olvera and I were chess pieces for Jacob's game. Or so I thought, at that moment, forgetting that August was merely courteous, and everything but naïve.

We exchanged pleasantries. I tried to rival his politeness as much as my face muscles' flexibility allowed me.

The two of us stood at the fringes of curiosity. Plenty of explanation was needed. Yet no one of us waived to breach the hurdle of being open.

I left him unsatisfied, on several levels. Arms crossed on his chest. He couldn’t hold back the questionable stares tinting his gaze. Perhaps this was what gave my artificial smile the texture of authenticity. Nonetheless, I was on the losing side. While he glimpsed at an obnoxious margin of my private life, I got nothing in comparison.

I remember in our brief conversation, the hum below his lips, between the repetitive apologies, the scent of malignity oozed slightly. When he mentioned: “This is not the first time you have been charged with first-degree murder…”

What did he mean by bringing my past?

A threat?

I wasn’t surprised regarding his acquaintance with my forgone misfortune. In the end, his family, an ancient resident of my hometown. Digging up dirt under each other's houses, a tradition we inherited from our ancestors. To a point that it became imprinted on our DNA.

The cafeteria entrance merged into my sightline. Still, my last steps halted at an interesting inspiration. I looked backward, checking if August followed right behind my trail. Luckily, he didn’t. If so, I had probably accused him of working with Milford Macias and being a part of the ploy that meant to destroy me then my family.

Such charges needed concrete evidence, especially when my father was betting on him.

Yet, in all those days, I couldn’t wash up that warm meeting in front of the police station the morning of my discharge. The red car nearly knocked me on purpose. I couldn’t uncover an explanation for it but August's involvement with the dangerous man. And… And Jacob too…

I gritted my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut, chasing the idea. In this lightless salvage, Madeline's smirking lips twirl and twist. The sound of the red car engine emerged from afar, waking me up.

I turned to the exit, wearing a mask of nonchalance. However, the voice reached me from behind: “Is everything ok?”

Unsuccessful to crack another smile, I didn’t turn back. My hand danced in the air, saluting and fleeing. Cursing in my heart for he had seen me while thanking him with my tongue for the meal.

The next contact with the sunrays was unpleasant, like everything on this day. I used my hand to fend for myself from the excessive light. It wasn’t enough. I moved my head to the other side, how I wished I didn’t.

The first thing my gaze fell upon manifested in the profile of the mean lady of earlier. Miss Madeline Fry. Our eyes were hooked in solid connection, created by fate. No wonder I heard the red car engine from a moment ago.

Her hair played by the gentle breeze scattered behind her back. She took off the sunglasses, then stared at me. intensely. I had nothing but to smile and wave.

“I know it, the two of you are familiar with each other.” The persistent voice that didn’t wish to leave me alone, carried from the rear.

“No, we are not.” I denied it, however, it sounded just like a confirmation.

Before she reached us, I withdrew as fast as I could. Using the afternoon lectures, I am going to skip as an excuse.

A minute later, I heard the engine waking up, yet the red car didn’t overrun my slow marching. It was the only exit from the cafeteria parking lot. What took them so long? I was dying to turn and discern what kept them. Did August say something to Madeline? Or vice versa…

In the end, the car never left its place all the time it took me to move away from the building. As if they were waiting for me to get out of sight.

My unproductive appointment with August ruined my mood. The already awful day descended into despair, sucking up my whole enthusiasm for the next month. Unless something soul-lifting will occur, I feared my bumper would shatter down. Sooner. At that time, I will transform into someone I don’t know.

Nothing but a purposeless stroll might liberate the negative tension. So I walked and walked, aimless, blind. Throughout the hidden paths of the vast campus. Encountering a myriad of faces. Countless laughs, clamors... Most of the individuals and groups didn’t recognize me, nor did I. It was a blessing of its own unique taste. How much I missed the lost time of being nameless.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Loomed on the horizon, the law department. I hesitated, my advance paused. As a bunch of familiar figures made their way outside the building, I assumed the lecture had ended.

I kept my distance, and my gaze focused on them. Cali’s silhouette possessed my interest. She walked alone between the groups of acquaintances. Head almost down. A half cheerful smile perked her mouth whenever a salute, half-heartedly, was thrown at her.

Cali glorified me as a celebrity, Cali that covers everything behind a set of stupid actions and silly smiles. Abashed, frightened, she appeared, earlier, under my angry gaze.

I pondered what my expressions looked like at that moment?

Akin to a white paper, my mind was blank… My heart was empty. Numb, the emotions seeped from my body. Pity, anxiety, sympathy, anger… They splattered on the soil under my feet. The roots of the mulberry tree supporting my hand absorbed them all. Only guilt remained, for it was not yet liquified. I shook it off right after. Just then, I felt pure.

In a fresh garment, I strode, leaving the campus' ground behind. Of course, to the nearest bus station, I usually use.

Even while I was waiting to ship myself inside this fish box. I felt weightless.

Even a vague shadow that kept crawling after me, I felt stressless.

Its specific details, its constant calls, melted within the spring breeze. I also start hallucinating a calling voice amidst the murmurs of the drifting sounds. My head must be playing tricks on me, avenging the consecutive traumas it received today. I thought…

Until…

A hand tugged at my shoulder… It was a light touch as if it was bestowed by a ghost or any other immaterial creature… Seeking my attention.

Hastily, I pulled off my arm, avoiding the contact, albeit the familiar tone that floated with it: “Kieran…” A tone that I knew very well, but I didn’t hear for ages. My heart skipped, a mixture of fear and surprise gushed into my blood. My head pursued the source, automatically.

Among the strange visages surrounding me, I identified the caller in a flash.

“Anna?”

There were much more words I desired to add, but the shock crippled my vocal cords. Only her name I could articulate.

“Can we talk?” She said, after all this time of separation...

That pale color and that tired expression of her vanished as if they had never existed. The red eyes and the torrential tears that threaded her face were nowhere to be seen. Wasn’t her father, recently, in a comatose state, as Cali mentioned?

My eloquence always lets me down in these kinds of situations. What I am supposed to say? Should I ask about her state? Her family? Her father‘s health? Or act like a jerk and ignore her… Because… Because of what happened, because of what she said about me. Because she didn’t give me a chance to defend myself. Didn’t she cut our relationship selfishly on her own?

The struggle between my pride, my emotions, my consideration as a gentleman didn’t last long. It fragmented below the light pressure of one word: “Please.”

How awkward… This meeting with each other, on this day. It seemed like it had happened years ago. In the far past. And here we gather again to laugh about the trivial mistakes of our youth.

I didn’t touch the menu, the food in my belly had yet to be digested. I only asked for a cup of tea. Whereas Anna ordered a cheesecake and of course the orange juice.

From the bus station to this teahouse, the silence was our sole way of interaction. We exchanged questions through quick stares, insignificant gestures, everything available except actual words.

At this instant, I felt I was the only one who deserved answers. A lot of answers. About the break-up message, about ignoring my calls, about her mean confession to the police… About the rumors tarnishing my reputation spreading on the campus, about everything, including this sudden meeting.

I watched her visage, brazenly. Flustered, she was, and I needed her to be. How cute the way she pretended she wasn’t bothered.

The bags under her eyes dried, the color of her cheeks more lively. She became a million times more gorgeous than before. What happened? Was Travis a better boyfriend?

The mere thoughts of this idea burn me up.

Despite the cheesecake and the orange juice being placed in front of her, she didn’t reach any of them. They were just a legitimate justification to bow her head and avoid my gaze. Nevertheless, she failed to hide the tension in her fingers.

Surely, she depleted all of her courage in favor of this meeting. Maybe it was what caused my anger, and railing to waver.

What do I want more? Thus, I decided to crush this cold anxiety of hers. “Anna, let’s stop this wrong fight and get back together.”

....

"This is a great opportunity to solve the misunderstanding."

Her hand hit the table, and my heart skipped a bit. “My name is not Anna.” She screamed, attracting a startled audience to our table. “My name is Hanna, Hanna Marchetti.”

In a full, fake calm state, I gazed upon her face, my eyes wide, roaming her expressions. Then shifting towards the background, glaring at the curious faces trying to prey on us. There was a silence that needed to be cut through.

“The letter ‘H’ in French is silent. That is why I can pronounce your name as Anna instead of Hanna.” It was the same sentence I had written to her in one of our exchanged letters. After that, over and over again, I repeated it.

Her head rocked up and down, with two angry eyes, parroting exactly what I had said. Then the silence landed anew.

She didn’t dare to look at me again while I began questioning the purpose of this meeting if we were only going to argue. However, my assumption was swept by her sad tone: “I believed you at first.” she attempted a glance at my face but it was a mere quick peek.

“I meant the story of the silent letter ‘H’ in French, about the French language and its romanticism, also about other things, a lot of things…” She sighed. "But I am Hanna Marchetti,” she hesitated. “Me and Anna that you always call for… are different individuals.”

Lately, the knives on my back, life threw at me, grew in number, while the old ones reached a deeper level.

But Wait, this speech didn’t match Anna’s. The reasoning behind it, it especially matched her dear mother.

My dear Anna, why… Why do you believe in whatever the liars say about me? And you are one of the closest people in my life. Why all these accusations, the blaming stares, and the cruel words?

Only, at this moment, I understood that the verdict of our separation was a fracture that can never be mended.

My dear Anna, you didn’t leave me a second choice. I had given you all the excuses, all the justifications, all the reasons I could uncover along my thinking path to explain your harsh conduct towards me.

I believed you needed some time to dissolve the painful events occurring in your life. I said it's okay; you were only tired physically, drained mentally because of the grief and sorrow. I said they manipulated you; they drew my person in a picture full of lies and deceit to separate us…

What did you want more?

What did you want more than this meeting that required all your courage just to curse at me?

My dear Anna… You are breaking my heart.

“How is your father? I heard he is in a coma.”

My dear Anna... I am finally convinced that this is our time for Goodby …

She didn’t answer. Her eyes wangled far from me. Escaping from something.

Did you expect the bullshit that you said about me, to the police, to your friends, to the whole university, will vanish? “They have already chosen a replacement for him at the firm.” Like a handful of drops of water in an arid desert? “The news isn’t official yet.”

I will teach you that in this life there will be consequences to everything you will do or say.

While listening, she took the fork, tormenting the strawberry above the cheesecake. Her reluctance to eat proved her understanding. She rapidly picked up the significance of my words.

It seemed her mother told her the truth, the other side of the truth. The upside-down truth.

“I know you are the one behind what was happening to my father.”

The strawberry fell out of the plate, rolled in my direction.

“Really?” I said, my heart was focused on the red-colored fruit getting near my cup. The pieces of nausea in my stomach began complaining.

I shifted my eyes to Anna, calming down the beast inside of me.

From below came her glares. “My mother told me everything.”

“Really?”

“You poisoned him…” She took out a paper from her purse. The speed it took her to get it out made me think it was prepared beforehand. “I have evidence.”

How much I was familiar with this paper. It confirmed the result of a blood and hair analysis for toxins. The result proved that Mr. Marchetti was exposed to a slow poisoning process, explaining the deterioration in his health condition.

How much I was familiar with this paper. How not, when I used the same paper to blackmail Mm. Marchetti.

I plunged into Anna's sight, filled with anger and hate, and said frankly: “This paper proves that Mr. Marchetti was poisoned, but it didn’t prove that it was me who poisoned him.”

“That's why you are a monster…” The scowls kept coming. “But what did Liam do to you so you had to kill him that way,” she paused, the words failing her, for an instant: “what my father did to you so you make him suffer this much? Didn’t he help and support you in every way he could?”

At last, I found out the reason behind this meeting, the meeting that drank every drop of Anna's courage. I know her. She could never make peace within herself, and those questions roamed the backyard of her mind.

That is why she chose to face me despite the high risk.

My dear Anna… That’s why I think you are incredible...

On your own, you have decided to face your fears, to face this monster in front of you… To get your truth…

You made me change my mind like always you do… I won’t invent some obscure lies or create hard conditions to punish you. For your mistrust. For your wrong accusations. But sometimes the truth can be the worst kind of punishment.

“Do you want to know from where your dear mother got her hands on these toxins?”

“Liar.” She shouted. Bringing unwanted attention again...

Sparks dashed from her eyes, molded from hate and anger. Her breath felt weighty. Though she can never burn the truth with denial. This mute reaction persisted. In return, I placed a sealed envelope between us. it was also prepared beforehand, for another reason.

My index pressed the rough paper, moving it subtly in her direction. No explanation was needed. I let her intuition work what was concealed inside. I left the choice to open it for her.

My dear Anna, this decision was so hard for me, after you open this secret and you will, because I know you, your life will never be the same. Aren't you the courageous one who confronted me to ascertain the veracity?

I assure you this isn’t a punishment, not my punishment anyway…

She gasped for air, not once, not twice… her eyes blinking between me and the letter under my finger. Something in them burned hard, something akin to challenge, anger, despise...

As much as my satisfaction scale overweighted, as much as my pity for her skyrocketed.

The glittering in her eyes morphed into a drop of tear before it deserted the prison of her lashes. She collected her things and stormed out. It goes without saying that she had left me a painful token on my cheek that will last for a few days.

The sun, wearing a red dress, touched the horizon. The faces in the shop changed over and over, yet my teacup was still half full.

The server cleaned the table empty. “Bad break up?” He asked.

My absent-mindedness straightened into a partly disoriented concentration. My face relaxed into a pleasant smile, then I left.