it's hard to shut it off. And she has an uncanny ability to take all my rationale away.
Deep down, I know the real problem is that she's mine and I'm hers. Once together, there's no separating the yin from the yang.
In a normal world, life would be starting for us. But sometimes, to get to the future, you have to survive the end and blow it up into millions of pieces. Only then can rebirth begin.
Those who pull the trigger risk everything to survive. And when the finger is pulling it back, there's no stopping it.
But ma belle is in too deep. The only option is to keep moving forward. And I wonder how much fate plays in her role.
Scholars have debated for years whether a person is who they are due to nature or nurture. I always believed you're genetically predisposed to be the person you are.
Then I fell in love with an innocent girl. Everything I've done since has unveiled the woman who's been trying to escape and bloom into who she's meant to be.
Without the nurture side, she wouldn't be able to pull out what nature gave her. She'd still be living how she was. And that's where my real battle lies. Would it have been better for her to continue running from the darkness, or going full speed toward it, ready to take it on?
When I close my eyes at night, holding her, her innocent expression fills my mind and makes my heart swell.
Then I'm reminded of all I've exposed her to. It doesn't matter that she wants it. I shouldn't allow it.
I only want to see our future.
I can't.
Until the truth is unveiled and a new order can dominate, dreams can't become a reality. She can't move past the rush of the darkness and into the light. I can't stop the secrets and lies that take us from one day to the next.
When I open my eyes and stare at her, her innocence is engraved in my mind. But I also see the part of her no one else does. It's everything opposite of what she shows the world.
Both parts of her make my head spin. I wonder how so much opposition can exist within her. And how I'm going to keep her sinful ambition fed once this is over.
1
Emilia
"Here's the key. If something happens to me, release the documents secretly. I have instructions on how to do it, in the envelope." My sister, Naomi, holds out a gold key.
A chill runs through my bones. I take it from her. "Naomi, what are you involved in?"
She shakes her head. "It's better if you don't know."
"Are you ever going to trust me?"
She tilts her head. "I do trust you."
"No, you don't. You think I can't handle anything."
"I wouldn't be giving you this key if I believed that."
"Then tell me what's in it."
She puts her hand on my arm and lowers her voice. "It's the most dangerous news story I've ever put together. No one can know what's in this. If I tell you, it could put your life at risk."
"How?"
"I can't tell you. Let's not talk about it anymore. Just make sure you follow the instructions if someone kills me or I'm missing."
"If someone kills you!" I cry out.
She takes my hand. "It won't happen. This is just a precaution."
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
"No."
I point at her. "You wouldn't be talking to me about this if the risk for you to die wasn't high. So tell me what is going on."
"I can't."
I rise and put the key in my jewelry box. It's the only thing I have from childhood. Everything else I had, I tossed, not wanting any memories of the past. But this was my mother's, so I feel close to her whenever I open it and see the little ballerina spinning to the music. Before everything happened, I wanted to be a ballerina. I had a pink tutu and ballet shoes. My mother worked hard to support Naomi and me, and even though we were poor, she still found money to send me to class. But that dream died like other pieces of my soul. The box should make me feel bad. Ironically, I always have a sense of peace and hope when I see it, like how I felt before everything changed.
I turn back to my sister. "This is so typical of you."
"Emilia—"
"No. When do I get to stop being the feeble woman who can't handle anything?"