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A copy of my driver’s license. Copies of my social media posts. Records from various jobs I've had, various addresses where I've lived. Places I frequented and how many times I've been there. Detailed notes about the way I look, all the way down to the size and shape of my eyes. Records of calls I've made, conversations I've had, and in detail, including conversations I've had with Eden.
I wonder if Sergio knows that Adriano was stalking me. I wonder if Sergio knew that this was a setup all along.
I exit the bus and walk the streets toward the home where my mother lives. I need to see her quickly, before Adriano finds me. He's probably already on his way here, likely after putting bullets through the heads of the men that let me slip through their fingers.
I would regret that.
The entire time I walk, I'm preoccupied with that file in my bag.
How long has he been planning this? Is there even a threat against me?
Maybe it's his goddamn obsession with me that's the threat. He's jealous of time I spend with anybody else, and he's proven that. It's why he almost killed the Dom at the club. Why he killed the people in my past that hurt me.
I thought I could do this, but I can't. It's too much.
My mother’s home looms in front of me. It's beautiful, thanks to the generous subsidy of the state. The sign tells me that visitors are welcome. The lawn is well manicured and the siding new. But as I draw nearer, the peaceful image wavers.
One person sitting on the porch screams at an orderly that's trying to give her medication. "Leave me alone!" she hollers. "Somebody help! She's trying to poison me!"
"Dolores, this isn't poison," the woman with a little plastic cup says to her. "This is the medication that will help prevent you from having seizures."
I keep walking up to the entrance, my head down. Someone waves at me and claps her hands; I don't remember seeing her before. I see another older woman huddled in the corner, her head in her hands as if she's distraught.
Something about this place makes me feel depressed and anxious. As if everyone here is a reminder of what could have been. Especially my mother.
When I enter, there's another visitor checking in. I look at every doorway and exit and make a mental tally of possible items I could use as weapons, if necessary, because that’s what I’ve learned to do.
The entryway welcomes visitors with hand-painted artwork on the wall. Someone's cooking breakfast; the smell of bacon wafting through the air mingles with the sterile medical environment, nauseating me.
I mentally go through every single move Adriano ever taught me.
Watch your back. Note the exits. Use your voice. Use found objects if you don’t have a weapon. Move quickly, deflect, and unarm.
I don't know why I go through this now, but I think being in this sort of environment makes me feel on edge.
I need to be prepared in case Adriano himself makes an appearance and I need to get away from him.
He isn't the man that loves me. He's the man that stalked me. I casually look at the paper in front of the woman at the desk, listing the room numbers and names.
"Hello," she says, beckoning me to come to the front. "May I help you?"
I draw in a deep breath. "I'm here to see my mother." My throat tightens, while I get my mother’s room number. After all the supervision I’ve had lately, it makes me a little uncomfortable how easily they let me go to her.
"Excuse me. Excuse me."
I look up to see a nurse in scrubs standing in front of my mom's doorway with her arms across her chest. "One visitor at a time, please." I'm immediately ready to fight her.
"Since when?"
"We have those rules and regulations for every suicidal person here." She points with wide eyes to the sign right outside my mother’s door.
Suicidal. They haven't called her suicidal in a long time.
"Do you mean to tell me someone else is here?" I give her an incredulous look.
"Yes. He got here about ten minutes ago. His visit will be up in five minutes, then you may go in."
He.Fear prickles my spine. Who is he? The only man my mother still knew was her father, who is dead. I'm my mother’s only living relative, so why on earth would anybody be here?
