Retrace

Chapter 2

Prologue

Nia

~3 years ago, Fortaleza, Brazil

My eyes are swollen. The purple-black marks have faded some, but nevertheless they are still evident on my face. I study my image as it reflects in my notebook's screen and wince. I carefully touch my lip with the pads of my fingers. It's still tender and has a sickening iron taste to it. My other hand instinctively reaches for my bandaged ribs. No matter how deep the pain I'm still nursing or the way I look, I still want him next to me. Nothing has changed; I love him just the same. Nothing has changed, at least not for me.

The sound of the front door opening pulls me back from my thoughts. There's a jingle of keys as they land in the glass bowl. I listen for the familiar call, asking if I'm home, but it doesn't come. My brows knit as I wait.

I shrug and call out, "I'm in here. "

In place of an answer there's a low exchange of words. I can't make out what's being said but the tone itself seeds alarm within me. Footsteps climb the stairs to the second floor of the house.

My parents appear at my door and my heart faints at their expressions. Color has left their faces. But it's what echoes from their eyes that sucks the air right out of me - a dual vision of fatality.

"Nia, it's. . .Patrick, " my mom's voice breaks as she tries to speak.

"They found him earlier. . ." my dad finishes.

Their lips keep moving but the sounds coming out of their mouths are stretched and heavy, as if they are speaking underwater. My mother's teary eyes caress me. She moves her hand to mine and I flinch back. I shake my head violently from side to side.

"No. No.... No, no, no, no, no. " I bring my hand to cover my mouth, muffling the hysterical sounds coming out. "No, no, no, it can't be, " I repeatedly murmur. They both look at me in pain, hopeless. I shake my head and move back on my bed, digging into the corner with my feet, resembling a scared animal. My tears almost choke me, and my body shakes uncontrollably.

"It can't be. . ." I whisper, my words breaking at the tail end of my sentence.

"He is gone, Nia love. He is gone. " My mother's words are so soft but yet so powerful, they paralyze me. Something takes over me in a sudden ferocious flash. Something resilient, spreading to every part of me.

Guilt.

And with his last breath, I know my life would never be the same.