Finding Hope

Into the Unknown

                      Somewhere In NYC

Telephonic conversation:
• "Yes, I'm telling the truth, madam," the man insisted.
• "But how can it be true? You were there when she was killed. How can you claim to have seen her in NYC?" the lady questioned skeptically.
• "Madam, I've done extensive research to confirm that it's really her. I'll send you all the information this evening, and you can see for yourself," the man replied confidently.

The lady warned, "Alright, I'm waiting. But if this turns out to be one of your silly pranks again, you will deeply regret wasting my time." She abruptly ended the call, frustrated and anxious.

As she contemplated the situation, doubts started to form. "How can it be? Does this mean that that bastard is still alive?" She mulled over the implications, growing increasingly angry. "No, no, it can't be true. She can't ruin my plans," she muttered to herself fiercely.

Lost in her thoughts, plotting various ways to get rid of the child, she was interrupted by a male voice calling out, "Anita, Anita!" Startled, she responded with a feigned concern, "Yes, what's happening, brother?"

He rushed over, panic evident in his voice. "She fainted. Call the family doctors," he instructed urgently. Within minutes, the doctors arrived and conducted a thorough examination, providing advice and a prescription. Just as they finished, she regained consciousness.

"Ahh, ahh," she moaned, showing her pain. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out, "Why am I unable to find her? Why does every trace I discover disappear before I can reach her? It's as if someone is erasing all evidence of my daughter, right before my eyes." She continued lamenting, "Why? Why?" and broke down in tears once more.

But suddenly, she straightened herself and grabbed her husband by the neck, shouting, "It's all your fault! If you hadn't killed his son, he wouldn't be after our daughter's life. Because of you, my baby is now seventeen, and I can't even wish her a happy birthday! I hate you, Antoine! I hate you!" Her words reverberated with raw emotion as tears mingled with anger.
                         Hope Coffee

After finishing some deep reflection on my past, my mind was interrupted by the soft voice of Emily calling out to me, "Hey Diana, what are you thinking about?" Startled, I blinked and turned towards her, managing a small smile. "Oh, nothing important," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Ever since the incident that had changed my life five years ago, I found it difficult to speak at length and connect with people on a deeper level. Consequently, my social interactions were limited, and since I started frequenting Hope Coffee, I had only managed to strike up friendships with two individuals—Arnold and Emily. The warm coffee shop had become a safe haven, providing solace and a sense of belonging in the midst of my silent world.

For the past two days, I have had a strange feeling of being followed. It seems like someone is carefully watching my every move. However, I brush this thought aside and continue to enjoy the comforting warmth of Hope coffee. Little did I know what awaited me...