“Is there someone following you?”
“I-I don’t know, there was this man, he’s been watching me for a while now, I think, and when I left the market, he grabbed me and told me, ‘I’ll have you all’. I just ran. I?—”
I glance at Lilian with wide eyes, playing my role well.
“Is he there still?” Lilian asks.
“No, I can’t see him—” I crane my neck and turn around. “I’m so sorry I bumped into you, I didn’t mean to, I was just?—”
Lilian interrupts me. “Don’t you worry. Where do you live? Let me call you a cab.”
“No, no, I’ll walk, the subway is around the corner and?—”
“I’m not letting you walk when there is someone after you,” says Lilian in a very bossy voice.
“I-I don’t have money for a cab,” I say, and avert my eyes back to the ground. “It’s okay, I’ll take the sub,” I add and try to walk.
Suddenly, my body tenses. I can’t tell what it is, probably my instincts, but my eyes shoot up and glance around. It feels like the cold night air has frozen, and everything around me runs in slow motion.
I see the little red laser point at Lilian, and I react without hesitation.
“Down!” shouts the bodyguard, and as Lilian still grasps my arm, unaware of what the bodyguard and I saw, I swirl-push her back and lounge us both out of the shooting line. I hear a bullet cut through the air; it rushes by my ear.
I hit the hard concrete with Lilian in my arms. The impact's pain pulsates through my shoulder and back. There is this one infinite moment of a nanosecond, where Lilian stares at me, fear in her eyes as she realizes what just happened.
It takes all my willpower to resist the urge to become my killer self and act like a professional. Ihave to keep my cover, keep my role, or it will all be in vain.
The bodyguard pulls away Lilian. I immediately jump into the safety of the car’s body, too, pretend to be scared, and grasp my throbbing shoulder as I lean against the front wheel.
Breathe and focus,I tell myself.You’re Ella. Ella would panic.
Lilian is pulled in the car as a second bodyguard appears next to me with a drawn gun. It’s only then that I become aware of the other people around me.
There is shouting and screaming.
I glance at the glass front of Lilian’s company, and the bullet has hit one of the huge windows, and it has splintered into a million pieces.
“You hurt?” asks the bodyguard, with one brief glance at me before he returns to scanning over the opposite building with the drawn gun.
“It’s minor, hit my shoulder, but I’m okay, I think,” I say. “I saw—what the hell is going on?” I ask with a shaky voice, pretending to be scared. Honestly, whoever the shooter was couldn’t have picked a better moment. All of it plays into my cards.
“Get in the car,” orders the bodyguard.
“I—I—but shouldn’t we wait for the police?” I ask as innocently as possible. Of course, I don’t want to wait for the police, but I have to keep my cover.
“Get the fuck in,” he says in a harsh voice, telling me he is under stress.
I glance at him and the car, shake my head, get up, and run—deliberately leaving my bag behind.
I can’t have the closeness right now. What I do need is a careful insertion of my persona into a life, not a life-or-death moment of weakness.
Gladly, the bodyguard does not follow me.
I run down the stairs to the subway, where I slip in whatever line it is.
Panting heavily, I walk to the end of the carriage and sink onto a seat, taking in the mixing scent of people who apparently hate deodorant and the suits who meant too well with their perfume. The good thing about the New York Subway is that everyone just minds their own business.
My mind is wide awake,assessing every angle of what has happened as I scan the crowd for a potential threat, while the subway rattles through the underground tunnels. I categorize all the new information I got.
