KILLING SARAI(91)

I reach across the bed a few inches with my hand in search of his. He interlocks his fingers with mine.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I say, pushing a faint smile through to the surface of my face. “I couldn’t live with myself if I had been the reason you killed your brother. I-I never should’ve come between you. I didn’t know what I was doing, Victor. I am so sorry.”

He squeezes my hand.

“You did something that no one else could,” he says and I eagerly wait for him to tell me what that could possibly be. “You made me remember that I have a brother, Sarai. He and I have practically sat side by side at a table as strangers for the past twenty-four years. And I see now that despite his faults, he has never once betrayed me.”

He pauses and his gaze veers off.

Then he looks back at me.

“In a sense he did betray me when he went there to kill you,” he goes on. “He betrayed me when he misled me so that he could get to you. Yes, that is a betrayal. But it’s a very different kind of betrayal.”

“I know,” I say. “Look at me.” He does. “You did the right thing. Regardless of what he did to me, you did the right thing and I don’t ever want you think I’ll feel differently.”

He doesn’t speak, but I know that look on his face, it’s the conflict that’s always there. I wonder if he’ll ever be rid of it.

Then he says, “But you did something else that no one else ever could.” His features soften and my heart is slowly melting. “You made me feel real emotions. You unlocked me.”

I reach out and touch his lips with my fingers, my hand cradling his chin.

The subject changes all too fast.

“Niklas will never hurt you again,” he says. “He gave me his word. And besides, he knows that if he ever tries that I won’t hesitate to kill him the next time.”

Then suddenly he adds, “You’re just as important to me as he is.”

I’m quietly stunned.

Victor stands up and walks to the window, crossing his arms looking out at the brightly-lit day. I can see that there are so many things he wants to say, so many loose ends he wants to tie up with me. But things have changed since Niklas shot me. I can feel it. And I won’t fight him anymore because I know that it has to be the way it is, that it has to end the way it’s going to end.

“I don’t expect to ever see you again, Victor, and I understand.” I swallow hard. I don’t want to say these words. “It’s better this way, I know.”

“Yes, unfortunately it is,” he says distantly with his back to me. “I can’t keep you safe with the life that I live. I wanted to, but in the end, I couldn’t. I knew better, but I…”

I wait quietly.

“…but I was wrong,” he says, though I feel like he wanted to say something else. “I’m sorry, but there’s no other way.”

My heart is breaking….

“Promise me one thing,” I say and he turns only his head to look at me. “Don’t go to Germany. Don’t go to that man, your employer or whatever the hell he is. Niklas told me about what will happen if you go there. Please don’t go there….”

I hear him sigh softly and he looks back out the window.

“I can’t promise that,” he says and my heart crumbles. “But I can promise that I won’t just stand there and let someone kill me.”

That doesn’t make me feel any better, but I know it’s all he’ll give me.

He leaves the window and produces a package from a briefcase lying on the nearby table. He walks back over beside me and places it in my hand. It’s an elongated black box stuffed inside a tattered paper package that had been covered in tape at some time. I pull the box from the package and open the lid. A single stack of cash is inside along with an envelope that has been folded over length-wise to fit and a few other random pieces of paper.

“What’s all this?”

“Your real birth certificate, social security card, shot records, which you are behind on a few that you should get taken care of soon.” He points to the folded envelope as I’m opening it to see the contents.

I look at my birth certificate first.Sarai Naomi Cohen. Born July 18, 1990. Tucson, Arizona.I say my full name over in my head three times just so that it might feel real to me, real like it used to feel.

It doesn’t.

“How’d you get this?” I look up at Victor.

“I have my ways,” he says with a smile behind his eyes. “I also set you up a bank account. The details are on the rest of the documents in the box.”

“Thank you, Victor,” I say, setting my birth certificate down on my lap. “For everything.”

I mean what I’m saying to him. I would’ve been dead many times over if it weren’t for him. But saying these things to him, these goodbyes, are shredding every last bit of what’s left of my heart.

“When are you leaving?” I ask.

I don’t really want to know the answer.

I put the documents back into the envelope and close them away inside the box.

“In a few minutes,” he says and I choke back my tears. I want to be strong for him because I know this is hard for him too. “But there’s one more thing before I go.”