Page 95 of The Spy Ring

“I’m going to kill her. I’ve decided, if she hurts anyone, I will kill her,” Aria said with a vacant stare in her eyes.

I took her hand in mine. “Come. Let’s cheer Henrik up.” I guided her toward the back where Henrik and Edgar were.

“May we sit?” I asked.

Henrik nodded but then turned his head to face the wall.

There was silence for a minute. The kind of quiet that feels like a boulder on your heart. That heaviness wasn’t new to me, but it was to them. The waiting. The not knowing if the person you loved most in the world would be alive or dead when it was all done.

I had to guide them through this.

“Well, this sucks,” I said.

That got their attention. Their eyes landed on me as if I just burp-sung the national anthem.

“You think?” Aria said.

“Don’t, Tiffany. Whatever you are planning to do, just don’t. I’d rather sit in my misery,” Henrik said, knowing me too well.

“I was just remembering a few years ago when I took David to the Art Institute of Chicago.” I smiled and noticed I still held their attention so I continued, “We were walking through one of the gallery sections and some people stared at him. He was in a wheelchair and I remember being angry that grown adults would stare at a child in a wheelchair. I remember one guy, who looked old enough to be a grandfather, pointed and laughed.”

I took a breath, willing back the tears. “David had recently got his communication device. He commented that he was glad they were looking at art from all around the world. They needed it. They needed to see things that were different so they might begin to understand the world better. He would always say the wisest things, that boy.”

“Did he realize the man was laughing at him?” Aria asked.

“I think so because as we passed by that guy David let out the biggest fart and then used his device to tell me who ever smelt it dealt it.” I chuckled.

That brought some smiles and a few giggles to the table.

“Morgana farts in her sleep,” Henrik said turning his body to face us, “a lot. And it’s not just once in a while. I would say she does it most nights of the week.”

“At least you can trap them in the covers. When Alex farts, he considers it a challenge to get me to smell them. He always wants a hug after he farts. Only I don’t realize he has farted until I’m trapped in his arms and he won’t let go.”

We were laughing and enjoying our memories of the people trapped in that building. It wasn’t that we weren’t scared and desperate to know they were safe, but we needed to remind ourselves of the good too, not just the bad. Something to help us through.

That’s when the door to the café opened. Aria stood, her eyes wide as she watched Alex walk into the room.

“Thank God,” she whispered before she raced over to him. That huge man opened his arms and allowed her petite body to crush him with love.

Everyone in the café stood. Most of the customers who had been here when we invaded left long ago. A few remained to help bring us coffee and pastries. They stood as well as hope lined their faces.

Popping out from behind Alex the giant, was a little redhead in a disheveled wedding dress.

“Morgana,” Henrik said and I had never heard such relief and love in one word.

He got up and ran to her, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around her waist.

That’s when I started to really see them. They each had blood on their clothes, yet none of them appeared to be wounded. Not even a scratch.

“Where’s David?” I asked and couldn’t help the tremble in my voice.

Right at that moment, Jagger came through the door. His face not like the others. Both Morgana and Alex looked tired, but appreciative to be there.

Jagger eyes were heavy, and he seemed to have a hard time bringing his gaze up to mine. And his shirt . . . it had the most blood. Alex and Morgana were staring at me, frowning.

I shook my head as Jagger stepped closer.

“No. No. Please, where’s David?” I ran up to him, grabbing his arms, shaking him.

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