loose ends

    Painted slipped into the building, rubbing her arms at the rush of cold air. It was hot outside, so every business had their AC running on high. She fiddled with the piece of paper she’d been holding onto for what felt like forever at that point. Scribbled on it was the address of the cafe. Part of her doubted he would even be here, but she shrugged the feeling off.

    She looked up, glancing around the cafe, noting that it was desolate. It was just a little past noon, so it wasn’t all that surprising. The place was run-down, clearly not very well-kept by its owners. There were a few people scattered throughout the tiny building. None of them seemed to notice her presence, despite a bell sounding when she opened the door. 

    She caught sight of someone slouched in a booth in the corner. She sighed quietly, somehow sensing that it was him. Before she could even consider taking a step towards him, she was overwhelmed by memories. Painted bit her lip as she considered just walking out. She suddenly felt suffocated, standing there as she was forced to relive memories that she had tried to scrub from her mind. She had spent the last few months of her life being shoved in and out of dingy interrogation rooms and courtrooms packed full of people, but none of it made her feel as claustrophobic as this. 

    Suddenly, she felt something brush against her shoulder. She was forcefully snapped back into reality as she realized that a woman was trying to slip past her into the barren cafe. Painted murmured an apology, stepping to the side so she could walk past. She hesitated there for a few moments, taking a deep breath. The air was thick, stale and reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap coffee. It didn’t do much to ease her nerves. 

    She couldn’t just stand there forever, though. She walked towards the booth, sliding into the seat across from him. 

     She couldn’t bring herself to look at him at first. He didn’t seem interested in looking at her either. 

    “Hey,” She said. 

    “Hi,” Colin mumbled. 

    They fell silent again.

    “Why did you want to meet?” he asked after a minute had passed.  

    “I just wanted you to know that my mother was arrested. They’ve been gathering evidence on her for the past few years. She’s going on trial in a week,” she began after a minute or two passed, nervously picking at a scratch on the table. 

    He listened to her speak, silently staring at the window. She watched him, trying to read his expression, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She wondered if he was as relieved as she was. 

    “How’d they find her out?” he asked. 

    “I ratted her out,” she replied.

    He stared at her, confused. “Why would you do that?” 

    He never picked up on the subtleties in her speech when she talked about her family. He thought that she was Lillian’s loyal follower; Someone who wanted to defend her. She felt a twinge of anger when she thought about that. How could he be so ignorant? Everyone else had pieced it together early on. 

    “I hated her,” She admitted. 

    He began, “I thought—“ 

    “You were wrong,” Painted interrupted, crossing her arms. 

    “I’m sorry,” Colin sighed. 

    “I’m sorry too,” she said. 

    That was the first time she’d ever heard him say sorry.