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'Never I'd had life enough

My heart is screaming out'

*

Sometimes I forget that I actually have a job. Something outside of the heist that I'm paid to do. A responsibility in the real world. Then it hits me, and I realise the bubble I've sheltered myself in by ignoring everything in the outside world that relates back to my old life. It's not possible to go back to who I once was; I don't want to, either way. Being here, it's to keep up the ruse that everything is normal, but it only reminds me of the girl I used to be. She's gone now.

Even when I have come into the shop, I've barely paid attention to what I've been doing. My mind has been somewhat preoccupied, you could say. What with theft, murder and imminent death floating over my head. It's distracted me from everything else, including Cathy.

Today is one of those unfortunate shifts where we're both working, unable to switch around with other employees to avoid each other at all costs. There's still been no contact between us, which I missed at first until more things started to unfold about Hugo. More danger emerging and secrets revealing. I hoped it would be a tsunami of truth. All flooding in at once, but instead it's been a trickle, and there's so much more to come.

The things I am certain of: Tobias' involvement, Belly's innocence, someone in the team working for Hugo, something involving Harry's father. Although, that last part we're still unsure of. It's something we've pieced together given the few conversations we've had with those involved. For example, Emma mentioned Steven, asking if Harry had ever told me about his father. She also claimed that Harry should know something, and that this whole chase involves the both of us. Because Hugo wants something. If only we knew what.

What I do know, is that if Cathy is working with the man too, then the only tie connecting me to my past self is my father, but he's not really here either. I'd called the care home a couple of times recently, desperate to hear his calm voice. It's always been one of my favourite things about him. Deep, but kind. Soothing. When I was a kid I'd lay on his lap and he'd just tell me silly stories while he played with my hair. His voice alone would allow me to drift off to a peaceful slumber. It would invade my dreams and continue the narration as if he were still reciting a tale. How I miss that time.

I hope to see him soon, once some more things have settled, but the question remains will this situation ever tire? Do I really want to risk putting a target on my Dad's back? It already feels that way given the photographs that have accompanied the strikes Hugo has ordered. Both depicting moments with my father. My best friend. It pains me to consider not being able to visit, but if it keeps him safe then that's what I'll do.

He's been sick lately, though, which only spikes my concern. Once you reach a certain age, health issues are bound to occur, but when paired with Alzheimer's anything can happen. It can cause an abundance of problems for those already suffering. Dad is so frail these days, I know it wouldn't take much to finish him off. The very thought has plagued me since I heard his raspy coughs through the phone. I've been assured by the nurses that it's just a chest infection, already being treated by antibiotics and fluids, but I can't stop my brain from immediately going to the darkest depths.

He's my best friend. My home. My partner-in-crime. I can't lose him. Not yet.

Out back I can hear Cathy typing away as she fills in some reports. It's been quiet in store today, only a few customers coming in. That's always the way this time of year, but once the summer sales hit more will flock and we'll be overrun. I enjoy it when it's busier; I like meeting new people, creating stories for them and their purchases if not already obvious. A game I've always played. I can always tell who someone is based on the jewels they buy, and how much time they spend deciding. A lot of the time, those that flash their wealth are only doing so because of their own insecurities. The biggest and brightest of diamonds frequently fall into the hands of those that hope the stones will illuminate their character. That's never the case, though.

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