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She’d eased herself back down to sleep, but Leo knew she was still awake. It was as good a time as any, he thought, and he said, his voice matter-of-fact, “Jawli agrees with me it’s time to give you a new name. Tell me what you think—Kirra. It’s an Aborigine name Jawli picked for you. It means ‘to live’ in the Murri dialect of southern Queensland. In part it’s for your protection, sure, but I think it suits you.”
Allison focused on the name—Kirra. Yes, she liked that, it was fitting. After all, that’s what she’d done, she’d lived, and now she had a new life, so why not a new name? “Kirra—I like it, Uncle Leo. But Rendahl—that’s still from my other life.” My other world—my other planet.
“I’m pleased you like it.” Now for the tough part. Leo said slowly, feeling his way, “If you agree, I’d like to adopt you. You’d be Kirra Mandarian.” It was yet another way to keep her safe if the men who’d killed her parents decided to come after her. He didn’t think there was any more danger, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He didn’t mention that to her or that it was for his peace of mind. She’d know.
Kirra Mandarian.She leaned against his well-worn T-shirt and breathed in his familiar scent, man and sweat, not at all unpleasant. She felt his strong heartbeat against her cheek and knew she was safe. She whispered, “Does that mean I’ll never have to leave you?”
“That’s exactly what it means. We’re a team, you and I.”
On her eighteenth birthday, Kirra Mandarian opened her acceptance letter from ANU, Australian National University, in Canberra, Australia’s capital. She and Uncle Leo had visited the campus six months before, met professors, monitored several classes, and she’d told him she loved the place as they sat in an air-conditioned café, out of the ferocious February heat. Uncle Leo had helped her application because he was even more famous now than he’d been when she’d first come to Australia, a fact she’d slowly realized when she was fifteen. The prime minister had asked Leo to lead a private tour for him and a half dozen top politicos to Fraser Island in Queensland, the planet’s largest sand island, with its incredible rain forest, white sand beaches, and the vivid blue waters of Lake McKenzie. Even though there was no swimming because of riptides and sharks, it was one of Kirra’s favorite junkets. Uncle Leo had planned an undemanding walk for some of the older members of the group. Unlike the adventures Uncle Leo usually led, this one was relaxing and lazy, the company convivial. The PM liked Kirra, which didn’t hurt with ANU admissions because he and the other pols she’d met wrote glowing letters about her accomplishments, despite the fact she hadn’t stepped into a classroom since she was twelve years old. Uncle Leo had arranged for her to be homeschooled, along with the half-dozen other children of the Extreme Australian Adventures team. Kirra had learned even more from the team themselves, each with their own expertise. Mala had taught her how to throw a boomerang and how to feed a baby kangaroo separated from its mother. And she’d learned from their clients, athletes and sportsmen mostly, who’d come to learn skills to survive in the outback from Uncle Leo. She’d learned about their cultures, learned how to read people and put them at their ease. She’d described her education to the admissions office as eclectic—she probably knew less about fusion than some, but a whole lot more about the habits of wombats.
She was proud she’d been accepted as part of the team, jubilant because she’d actually added to the company’s bottom line. She’d come up with the EAA’s motto—Learn how to survive the worst, appreciate the best. She designed T-shirts and sweatshirts with some of the incredible scenery she’d seen on the hikes Uncle Leo had mapped out, but her favorites were ink drawings of Uncle Leo in profile. Most of the team thought Uncle Leo was wasting his money, but it turned out the shirts were so popular they couldn’t keep them in stock, so Uncle Leo gave Kirra permission to hire some locals to make the shirts for them. By the time she left Australia to attend law school, they had a line of EAA clothes so popular they had orders from Kuala Lumpur and Paris.
Leaving Uncle Leo and the EAA team was difficult for Kirra. She knew she wouldn’t be like any of the other students at ANU—an American with an accent who spoke fluent Australian that was even on the edgy side, like most of the other members of the EAA, except for Jawli’s wife, Mala, an Aborigine guide and chef, who’d taught her how to cook, throw a boomerang, and fly a drone. In her martial arts classes at ANU, the instructors weren’t surprised at her skill and toughness; after all, she’d been raised by Leo Mandarian with the outback as her backyard. Kirra was as fit as any of the major athletes. No one crossed her. She briefly fell in love with an Aussie whose dream was to race at Daytona Beach and Le Mans. He taught her how to drive, really drive. Unfortunately, she found out he was doing drugs, so she dumped him.
Kirra imagined if she was popular at all, it was because she was Leo Mandarian’s adopted daughter. But she’d known for many years she’d attend university, study law, then move back to her childhood home in Porte Franklyn, Virginia, larger now than when she’d left, not quite the size of Richmond, but close. Her goal was to be a prosecutor in the Porte Franklyn Commonwealth Attorney’s Office. It still hurt to leave Australia and Uncle Leo, but she knew she had to find out who killed her parents and tried to kill a twelve-year-old girl. It was her most important goal. Uncle Leo understood even though he didn’t want her to do it. You know how to escape a pissed-off crocodile, but a cold-blooded murderer? Different animal and more dangerous.
Even now she had the occasional nightmare about the night the men broke into her home and murdered her family. Maybe those men were still in Virginia, and still free.
