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That mission went well. Exceedingly well, and Carmen’s been back in the States for days, although Kaye and I didn’t know about any of this until recently.
Our roomie is a fucking badass. How cool is that?
The Guardians returned her to her father’s estate, where she rescued not only dozens of women who were being trafficked, but her best friend, Rosalie. There was some kind of kerfuffle with Rosalie. Something about losing her to the jungle? But that’s all been sorted and Rosalie, and the Guardian who was with her, Zeb, if I remember right, emerged from the jungle and are now back on U.S. soil, safe and sound.
Here, as in a short drive down PCH-1, where the headquarters of the Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists is located.
The day that call came through, the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders, because neither Kaye, nor myself, knew if Carmen was alive or dead, happy or sad, or just moving on without us.
Not that Carmen would ever leave us hanging, which is probably why we’ve been so worried. Carmen never would’ve gone incommunicado, unless she didn’t have a choice.
We feared the worst.
Now, she’s coming back to us. Coming back with Rosalie.
“You excited?” Kaye wanders past me, fingers tight, clutching her phone. She reads whatever’s on the screen with a frown.
Buzz. Her phone vibrates with an incoming text.
“I can’t wait for them to get here.” I ignore her phone, too excited by Carmen’s return.
Both she and Rosalie are moving in. I want to pinch myself.
No more worries about living in the townhouse alone. No more fretting about having to look for other roomies. Not that I need to. I’ve got more than enough to live here alone. I just don’t want to.
Kaye and I have never met Rosalie, but from all the stories Carmen shared over the years about her childhood friend, Rosalie already feels like a sister to us.
Buzz. Another text vibrates Kaye’s phone, bringing a frown to her face.
“You don’t mind sharing your room with me, do you?” Kaye looks up from her phone. From the way her brows bunch, something’s bothering her.
“No, it makes sense, and is only for a few weeks.” She doesn’t even look up from her phone.
Buzz.
We’re not that far from the start of the fall semester. Just a few weeks to go before she moves out.
The townhouse has three bedrooms, and we want to make room for Rosalie. Rather than have Rosalie share a room with Carmen until Kaye leaves for UC Davis, Kaye and I decided Kaye will bunk with me for the last few weeks of summer.
As for Rosalie, she’s literally starting her entire life over, but in the best possible way. She was recently accepted into UCSF and starts as a freshman this fall.
It’s frickin’ perfect.
Buzz.
Another text deepens the frown lines on Kaye’s face as she sits on the couch.
“What’s with all the buzzing? And be careful or your face will freeze with all those frown lines.” Worried about my friend, I take the phone from her hand and stare at an alarming string of texts.
Kaye, don’t ignore me.
Dammit, answer me!
This isn’t over until I say it’s over.
You’ll regret this. You’ll regret leaving me.
Holy fucking shit! When did things with her professor go this south? I look up at Kaye, worried about her, but more concerned she hasn’t confided in me.
