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I can barely process what's happening. "Nobody kidnapped me!"
She shakes her head, her tone cold as ice. "We can't do this here. We must follow protocol. Come to the embassy and clear it up there, my instructions are to bring you in, that's what I'm doing."
Marco pushes Derek aside, getting in the woman's face. "This is nonsense!"
Amazingly, she doesn't flinch in the face of Marco's fury. "We've been on the look out for any sign of her, and tonight, a mandated reporter called her location in."
In a daze, I scan their faces. The police have made a ring around us. Heratio is sucking at an empty glass. Nathan is crushing his, and Trey is gone––did he run away? I would have, if I could.
"Everyone relax," I say loudly, lifting my arms. "I'll go to the embassy and clear this all up."
"Filia, no, you don't have to go," Marco growls.
"It's really fine," I assure him with a smile.
"I'll go with you," he says firmly.
My eyes dart to the phone in his hand. "I can't let you choose me over your responsibilities." Closing the distance, I kiss him tenderly, until he isn't capable of scowling anymore. When I step back he looks shocked. Just past his shoulder I see another shocked face; Derek.
He's staring at me with his eyebrows up to his hairline.
I say, "Finish up the call to your mother. We'll meet up later tonight. I'll call you when I'm––oh." I frown sheepishly. "I don't have a phone anymore. It broke in the ocean."
"I'll come to the embassy once I finish tying up these loose ends," Marco says. "Stay there. Okay?"
Nodding, I take one more swig from my drink, setting the glass on the table. The police chuckle at my action; except the woman, who seems annoyed. "Let's go," she insists. "If you're really not in danger, I want this off my plate. Waste of resources to be chasing after American girls who don't need saving."
Bristling at her comment, I keep my mouth shut. She leads me outside the bar, to a white car with a green stripe along the side that readsPolizia Localelike her uniform. The other officers join us. They're chatting with light smiles, clearly unbothered by the situation. I wish this woman was as relaxed as them. I wonder if she's the only responsible one on the team, or if this is her trying to prove something.
Either way, just go along and get this done with.
It's a quick drive since the curving streets are mostly empty. The embassy is a large, squat building surrounded by a tall, black metal fence. Multiple flags wave proudly on poles in the wind on its perimeter.
"This way," the police woman snaps. She opens her door, waiting for me to follow. I give her an annoyed look because she hovers over me as we walk towards the entrance.
"You don't need to stand so close, I'm not going to run."
"I don't know you. I don't trust you." She points as we enter the Embassy. "Talk to that man behind the desk. I will wait until he tells me you're confirmed as being off my list."
The man standing behind the desk looks as old as the massive furniture itself. His long hair drapes down to his shoulders in loose waves. There's a kindness in his small, beady blue eyes when he notices me. Eager to get away from my rude police escort, I walk to him. "Hi there. I'm Fillia, and I think there's been some mixup."
He looks over my head to the police woman. She says something blunt in Italian, I don't know what it means, but the tone is rude. The man chuckles, turning back to me. "I think you need to make a phone call to your father."
"My––" I cut myself off. "Oh god. I––dammit! Where's a phone I can use to make an international call?"
He grins, gesturing at the far wall. I see a row of phones hanging in red boxes. Rushing to the nearest one, I snap up the receiver and begin to dial. My fingers clutch the phone, shaking along with the rest of me.
How could I be so absent minded? Of course he reported me missing! We haven't spoken in...shit, has it been four days already?Suddenly my original plan to hang around with Marco until I could afford a cheap flight home returns to me. I'd completely forgotten my goal.
The line clicks. "Hello?" my father asks anxiously. "Who is this?"
My mouth is dry as I try to speak. "Dad! It's me."
"Filia! Oh, thank god! Are you okay?"
Wiping at the tears blurring my vision, I sniffle and laugh. "I'm so so sorry. I should have called, I know that."
"It's fine! Just tell me you're okay!"
