Page 31 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

I’m pissed. I want to know what Petrovic said, and what he meant. But, that opportunity vanished when Mason almost killed him.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he grabs for my shoulder to stop me from walking away.

I shrug his hand off. “Look, Mason. This isn’t personal. I let you do your job. Let me do mine.”

I go back to my room, but I can’t sleep at all, thinking about what Petrovic said. “You know he looked for you for months. We all did.” What does that mean? Who looked for me? Who does he think I am?

It’s around eleven. I decide to take another shot at Petrovic and see if I can catch him off guard. Interviewees are usually a lot more pliable when they’re tired.

The guard isn’t at all happy to see me at this late hour. “Ma’am, the prisoner is sleeping. Everyone is sleeping.”

“First, he’s not a prisoner,” I say. “And, second, it’s not your call. Wake him up.”

He begrudgingly walks away to get him, and returns with a very groggy-looking Petrovic. I follow them into the interrogation room and tell the guard to leave the room. The guard looks at me warily. “You can cuff him to the table if it will make you feel better,” I say.

He seems to be fine with that compromise. “I’ll be right outside the door,” he says, shutting the door.

“So you did hear what I said before that man attacked me,” Petrovic says. “I think we should speak in Bosnian in case the guard is listening.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing you’re going to say that he can’t hear. Yes, I heard you, and I want to know what you meant.”

“You look just like her,” Petrovic says, letting out a long sigh like he’s reminiscing on days gone by.

“Just like who?”

“Your mother.”

“My mother? So, you’ve spent some time in New York? You knew my mom,” I say flippantly.

“I know you at least suspect who she really is, who she was,” he says. “It’s why you’re here.”

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