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“Hugo!” Delphine crowed in delight, enveloping me in an attack hug the moment I walked through her door.
The apartment Dad had found for her was cramped, but with a Parisian flair. She could have had a bigger place if she’d gotten a job, but Dad didn’t want her to have any distractions. If she was going to be going to university, that should be the focus. Mom didn’t want her to go at all.
I remember a similar scene when I left for America. The first born, off to seek his fortune in the New World. Our sweet mother bawling her eyes out like I was going to the afterlife instead of New York. It would take a tragedy, but I finally understood her urge to hold on. Even if it wasn’t healthy in the long run.
Delphine might have appeared like a woman. but the decor spoke of youth. Holdovers from adolescence, and before, a primary feature of the decor. She still even ate like a high-schooler. At least from what I could remember. Seeing the state of her fridge, I had the overwhelming urge to march her down to the shop and do a complete overhaul. Then I thought better of it, remembering how royally pissed I would have been if one of our parents had done the same to me. Better to let her make her own mistakes.
Permanence could be quite comforting. The metro system was mostly unchanged since I’d been there last. Though I wasn’t sure what changes I thought there could really be in five years, particularly to a city property. It was something I didn’t think the Americans really got. Probably because of their lack of history on the grand scale. There were trees in Europe that were older than the American Nation.
It was a picture of wonderment, Delphine finally able to see Paris at night. Something
every French citizen should be able to do at least once in their lives. Hell, something everyone should do.
While she seemed a little intimidated by the bustle, Delphine was going to have to get used to it if she lived in the capital. She’d mostly grown up in a world of open spaces. Our closest neighbor about 20 miles away. I hadn’t been asked, but knew she would have to acclimatize sometime. Best to do it when I was there to hold her hand. Literally, as it turned out. Her surprisingly strong grip not relenting until we took our table at the cafe.
We’d barely had time to order. The server was heading back to the kitchen when it happened.
Everybody got down amidst the gunshots and screaming. Snapping like a spring, I tackled Delphine, trying to get her out of the line of fire. Using myself as a human shield.
After what seemed like hours but were probably only minutes, the noise abetted. An eerie sense of calm coming over the scene, I held her, like I had when she was a baby. The mad hope that my warmth might revive her consumed my grief-addled mind.
At first, as the shock and adrenaline still ran, I hadn’t noticed how cold she was getting. Three rounds to the chest. Two right through her heart. The coroner said she would have died instantly. No pain. No time to say goodbye.
***
Small, gray waterfalls trickled down the page, threatening to mar the crisp white sheets beneath. The tears that wouldn’t fall before, coming in a cascade.
“Hugo?”
A light touch on my arm. I looked to see Vega, awake and alert, the covers fallen around to her waist. It made her look like a classical statue tourists went to gawp at in the Louvre. Every gentle curve of her, perfectly symmetrical with the others. A waking dream after a waking nightmare.
The pad slipped away as my strength relented, my hands falling slack on my lap. Vega pulled me to her, enveloping me in her gentle embrace. My soft sobs were muffled by her supple neck. The silver of the collar pressed into me as I held onto her, for dear life. Vega cuddled and shushed me lovingly.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked when I pulled myself together.
“I think I’d better, or I might go insane.”
It all came flooding out. The dam of denial and reserve had finally burst, letting the emotions flow free. One could only be stoic for so long before it stated to take a terrible toll. I’d never even been able to talk to my parents about what happened. Never talked to them again after the funeral.
As soon as Delphine was put in the ground, I was on the next plane back to California. Remaining in the airport terminal for the entire twelve hour wait. I just couldn’t face them. Their baby was dead. The guardian had failed. At least that was how I’d felt at the time. There was really nothing I could have done except take the bullets myself. Given the option, I would have.
