Hero

50

My last promise to Cataline was that I’d let her be, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m leaning against a brick wall near her apartment, impatiently waiting until a black town car pulls up. Cataline gets out with a small duffel bag and nothing more.

Norman’s right behind her, watching while she puts the bag at the doorstep of her apartment building. People pass them by, oblivious. The look she gives Norman makes my throat constrict. All I got in the car on the way home from the charity event was a cold shoulder and no explanation.

“I don’t know what to say,” she says to Norman. “It feels wrong to say thank you or I’ll miss you, but that’s what I want to say.”

He nods, and I’m sure the sentimental old man has tears in his eyes. “I want you to know, if you ever need anything, you can come to me.”

They hug, and she kisses him on the cheek. Then he’s gone, and she’s alone. Since he doesn’t take her upstairs, I know he knows I’m here. She approaches the building’s entrance and pushes the button to her apartment with an unsteady finger. She’s biting on her thumbnail when a voice comes through the speaker.

“Yeah?” Cataline just stares. “Hello?”

“Frida?” A silent beat. “It’s me, Cat.”

I realize I’m holding my breath until Frida says, “I . . . I’ll be right down.”

Cataline sighs and closes her eyes, and I have to remind myself why this is right. I want to bolt across the street and take her in my arms, crush her in a hug that reminds her I’m not just a bad memory but a real person who needs her, who no longer knows anything without her.

Frida bursts through the door and almost knocks Cataline over with the force of her hug. They cling to each other like they’re in danger of drowning in their own tears.

“Oh my God,” Frida chokes out. “Where have you been? What happened?”

I justify spying because I need to know what she’ll say. In fact, I wouldn’t care if she went to the police and told them everything. Exposed me as Hero. She deserves that kind of justice.

“You wouldn’t believe any of it,” Cataline says, gripping her friend by the shoulders.

“Was it the Cartel?” Frida asks.

Her answer is immediate. “Yes.”

“I knew it,” Frida says tearfully. “I knew you didn’t run away. I never gave up.”

“It’s over now. It’s over. He saved me.”

“Who?”

“Hero.”

Frida’s mouth falls open. “Hero? Were you afraid?”

“Afraid?” Cataline asks. “Of Hero?”

Frida shakes her head quickly. “One thing at a time. Come upstairs. Tell me everything.”

There’s supposed to be this moment where she feels my eyes on her and pauses to turn around, but she only follows Frida inside. I leave before I’m tempted to listen to the whole fucked-up fairytale.