Page 58 of The Freedom in Captivity

“Funny. You’re not one to talk. The mafia princess.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Believe me, I tried to ignore the attraction. But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. What you did, Flynn, it’s okay.”

My feet stumble, quickly righting themselves as I replay his latest words.

“You hate Rozelyn but now you’re okay with this?You’rethe one who stabbed her. She drugged your girlfriend. You probably have one of the biggest reasons to dislike her.”

“Oh, I don’t care what happens to the bitch. Death would be generous, yes, but even Aurora’s having her reservations about that. Della’s been arguing with Nico about Rozelyn’s future. Put all that aside though, it’syourfeelings, your past, getting entangled with her, and that’s what I care about.”

I level my stare with him, despite the rocking motion from my run. “Gonna tell Nico what you overheard?”

Yes.“No,” he replies instead. “Not unless this becomes an issue.” He slaps the machine once and steps back. “When Nico told you he understands, he meant it. He’s lived what you are with his wife. Once, Nico was stuck believing hehadto hate Della for her actions…and not hating her.”

Ignoring him, I tap the speed button, quickening the machine’s pace and forcing my legs to keep up with it. Nico’s experience with Della was different. She lied to him for a good reason. Rozelyn’s secret-keeping isn’t the same.

I run even faster, escaping the duplicity living in my head. Lies. Truths. One’s a fact and one isn’t.

“Anyway,” Rosen finishes, “if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah.”

Talk. I don’t need to talk.

Shedoes. Rozelyn needs to reveal what she knows about her father so this can end.

* * *

After the gym, I don’t return home.

I drive in a direction I haven’t been in a long time. To a place in the city that I haven’t returned to since I abandoned it.

My high school.

Ourhigh school.

I park my bike right in front, dropping my feet to the cement to hold myself steady as I inspect the building. The siding’s been updated to a new colour, now a light blue from the grey I remember it being. Like they’re trying to modernize it, but the building itself won’t ever change. The massive grass yard, the track far behind, a place Rozelyn and I spent a lot of time.

The very spot I recall thinking how she’s made my life brighter. She was the light amidst the darkness.Mon soleil.

And she gave me her own nickname for me, with a meaning only we’d ever understand. I felt wanted with her.

It’s the middle of summer so no one’s around, being off for the hot months, and I inch my bike farther down the property line, heading for a large tree, the distinct garbage can, and dozens upon dozens of cigarette butts strewn around from the last time students were here.

The smoke pit isn’t what has my attention. The bench a few feet away does.

Thebench.

How different would my life be if I didn’t approach Rozelyn that day. I was curious about the quiet, new girl. She was a confusing mystery, discreet and shy, but walked around in her expensive clothing with her nose held up like she was too good for the place. I hadn’t understood at the time.

Immediately, I wanted to knock her down a few pegs and return her to reality, but then I spoke to her and she opened that fucking mouth of hers and stared at me with her round eyes, and I was a goner. Her attitude only increased my interest, and I couldn’t help but be sucked into her vortex.

I recall the very first time I ever saw her, when she entered the math class her first morning there. Her hair, long enough to nearly reach her waist, was the first thing I was intrigued by. It hung free like a cape she used to protect herself from the probing stares, which only amplified when the teacher introduced her. I sat in the very back of the classroom, always bored in that class because math was my enemy. Every school subject was my enemy really.

Despite her hair, she met everyone’s stares head-on, before stalking back to the desk indicated for her and then barely spared anyone a second glance. That was when the whispers began, and people started referring to her as the ‘high-class bitch’ in the days following.

From the outside, it looked to be true, but my classmates and I also didn’t get along, so before I sided with their beliefs, I wanted to make my own. To determine if she was worthy of the title they gave her.

I shared two classes with her that semester, so for the next three days, I spent both watching her. She did attempt to talk with others as the new student anxiety began to lessen, but everyone already discounted her as being too good for them and no one paid her the attention she desired. That was the first time I felt truly empathetic for another person, since it was only the first impressions she made that drove them all away. No one cared to consider it was likely only first-day apprehensions preventing her from being friendly.

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