Play Along

“She was so beautiful,” she whispers. “The one person who I could always trust.”

I don’t know what to say, so I stay silent, and after about ten minutes I reply, “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing, he just took me to get back at her for leaving him. I was taken to a hotel by two of his men.”

I frown. “He has men?”

“He does now. In the beginning it was just him, but now he has help. They took me to a hotel and he was going to pick me up in a few days, but fortunately for me someone got murdered in the room next door so the police came and did random searches of all the rooms. They found me and put me into the witness protection program.”

I frown as I look over at her. God, this is not what I was expecting. “And you became Roshelle Myers?”

“Yes.”

“You have always been alone?”

“Yes,” she replies, monotone. “I used to have this perfect little scenario in my head. It used to get me through the hard days.”

“Like what?”

She smiles. “I was out to dinner with my mom and my dad at an expensive restaurant, my Dad was a well respected doctor. He loved my mom and we lived in a fancy house. We had no worries and life was perfect.”

I smile as I imagine the scenario she is setting.

“This gorgeous guy would come up to us at dinner and ask Dad if he could dance with me and my dad would say no because he was too protective.”

My heart sinks.

Her sad smile fades. “He loved me too much to let me dance with someone.”

“Is that how you wish it was?”

“It was just a stupid fantasy. My lifeline.” She sighs

“Is that why you know how to fight, to protect yourself in case he came?”

“Yes.” She wipes her eyes angrily. “I’m going to kill him one day. I have to.”

“Yes. You do,” I mutter into the darkness. “Revenge is a powerful motivator,” I whisper.

“He’s going to suffer.”

“I will make sure of it,” I breathe.

11

Rosh.

I clutch the party invitation tightly in my hand. It’s taken me eight years to get an invitation to a party—my first one. I’m so excited and I run all the way home with my friends to tell Mom. I come around the street corner and my face falls as I see mom dragging a large suitcase down the front steps.

Oh no, not again.

“Mom?” I ask as I walk toward her.

She fakes a brave smile. “We have to go, sweetie.”

I shake my head. “But…” I don’t want to go. I finally have friends. I have a party. I glance to my three friends who live on my street. They have no idea what she is talking about. I wish I didn’t.

“Say goodbye to your friends, baby.” She gestures to them as she grabs my hand and brushes my hair back from my face.