RED

22. Crocus

There is no love without forgiveness and there is no forgiveness without love.
by Bryant H. McGill

While seated by the window in a moving bus, her head resting on the window, she sniffed and wiped off the tears that rolled down her cheeks. A part of her felt tired, felt the need to just throw in the towel, but no matter how many times she thought of it, she just couldn't. Every single detail from that very night her mother was arrested haunted her all the time. Her mum had urged her to give up, to let her rot in prison, but Kiana just refused to give her that one wish. She shut her eyes for a moment and that's when she recalled the exact incident of about an hour ago. 

She had gone to visit her mother in jail, as usual, but according to the warden, her mum was refusing to see her. She bluntly refused to have a talk with her and Kiana had to turn back without even getting a glimpse of her mother. She didn't know what to do. Was she safe? Is she doing okay? She had no answers to her question. How was she supposed to help when the person in question was refusing the help? It was a tough situation for her.

Generally, at that point, one would just end it, but not Kiana. Her conscience would prick her as long as she lives. She would be leaving an innocent person to suffer, so giving up wasn't an alternative. Her only problem was how to get her mother to care about leaving that hell hole. Somehow, she would just have to do it.

* * *

A man seated at the very last seat focused all his attention on Kiana, who was only about three seats ahead of him. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and on top of it was a black leather jacket in which he buried both of his hands within the pockets. Its hood covered his head. Somehow, he remained hidden, as if in the shadows, not wanting to be seen by the person he was tailing. He had promised to come for her and that was exactly what he was doing.

* * *

The bus came to a stop and Kiana fluttered her eyes open. She looked around and realised this was her stop, so she swung her handbag over her shoulder and forced herself to get up on her two feet. Casually, she made her way off the bus and onto the street. She barely considered her surroundings as her mind wandered off once more, while she walked down the street. She wasn't rushing to get back to the office. After all, it was the weekend.

Kiana exasperated as she continued to make her way down the busy street. Eventually, she decided to ward off all her thoughts and concentrate on the day, so she violently shook her head a bit. She assured herself that sooner or later, everything would work out. After all, nothing was impossible. There's always a solution somewhere, somehow. Suddenly, a slow but strange feeling filled her. Her brows slightly furrowed as she came to a stop, then took a look backwards. Her eyes lurked from one side to the other, but she couldn't see what she intended to find. There were just normal people walking on the street, minding their business. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Turning back to her front, the bugging feeling persisted.

Kiana could swear she was being followed and each time, she took a look back, she just couldn't find anything extraordinary, but that nagging feeling continued. She was worried. Really worried. Her phone rang within her handbag and she immediately reached down for it. The number had no caller ID. She debated on whether to pick it up, especially as she has been weird out by the feeling of someone tailing her. Her heart accelerated with fear and she made a decision not to answer the call.

She stared at it while it rang and suddenly it stopped. She let out a sigh of relief and just as she was about to return the phone into her handbag, an alert came through. A message had been sent. Kiana slightly trembled as she realised it was from the same unknown number. She wasn't a movie freak, but everyone knows this is usually how the hunting starts. Nevertheless, she sucked in all the courage needed to take the next step. She tapped on the message and drew the phone a little closer to her eyes to read.