Dirty Thief - Page 18

“It’s not a perfect solution.” I study the papers in front of me. “But I hope presenting these two pieces of information together, in person will head off any anger or confusion over where we stand.”

“I’ll prepare to leave at once,” Reggie says, starting for the door.

“Take Cassandra with you. I’ve found her to be extremely effective in maintaining a level of calm during difficult conversations.” I don’t say out loud that I trust my official translator and my wife’s best friend more than my uncle in conveying our message in the most diplomatic manner.

Logan’s eyes flash to me,

and I add, “You will also need a guard. Logan can accompany you.”

He rises and gives me a nod. “Thank you. We’ll prepare to leave at once.”

Chapter 6

Ava

I’m in front of the laptop scouring through the lists of refugee names. Somehow, when Freddie did it, he made it look so easy. It takes me almost an hour to finish the search on one child.

I start with Greece, where it appears they all washed ashore, then I search by last name through all the rolls Freddie showed me. It takes forever! Once I’ve narrowed it down to a possible three different camps in three different countries, I start collecting the names and numbers of the individuals in charge of the relief efforts there.

“I need to make a master list of these people,” I say to myself, jotting the names on the inside of the manila folder.

Times like this I wish I had worked as a secretary or some other sort of administrative job. Even if it was only for a little while, maybe I would have learned to use a spreadsheet or any kind of electronic data organizer.

Once I have the contacts and locations down, I save it in a document and start on the next child. I’ll forward three more to Clare when I finish, and she and Rashida can start making calls.

I haven’t heard from her about the first three children. I confess, Suad is sort of my favorite. I hope she might let me hold her one day, but more than that, I hope I can find her family.

Glancing up at the clock, I see another hour has passed. I stand and walk around the room, stretching my arms and tilting my head side to side. The entire time I’ve been searching, I’ve had the windows open for Emily, Grace, and Ramona.

I open a small window on the addresses for each girl, and as often as possible, I click over to see if I can catch a glimpse of one of them. I want to see them looking happy and healthy as adults.

Ramona’s street bothers me the most. I remember streets like hers in certain parts of Miami. Looking back, I realize as a child I’d seen drug deals going down or prostitution transactions, and I didn’t even know it. Zelda would steer us away from as much criminal activity as she recognized, but we weren’t always together during the day.

I look at those streets and think how I came from that. It’s an unexpectedly depressing thought. What made me better than Ramona or Grace or Emily? Why do I deserve to be in a palace and not one of them? Is this survivor’s guilt?

My mind drifts to my orphans, and I think of all the things they’ve likely seen at such a young age. All of it spirals together in my mind, and the impressive level of optimism I’d managed to conjure when I talked to Clare fails me.

Picking up my phone, I tap out a quick text to Rowan. Busy?

I put the phone down and stare at the window into Ramona’s life doing my best to focus on helping her, sending her the money… One at a time.

My phone vibrates on the table, and I pick it up.

Rowan texts back. Working on my compromise with Reggie. You?

Working on my orphan placement. I text back. Pausing a moment, I think about how troubled everything seems to be. Having second thoughts about the baby. Is this the right time?

Three little dots float on my screen, and I know he’s working on a reply. I lean back in my chair, holding my phone and waiting for his words. The dots disappear, and I wait longer.

My eyes drift up to the three windows, and I see a short woman in a grey coat walking a dog down the lane in Grace’s world. They move slowly. They stop at a tree, and I’m sure the dog must be peeing. It’s all so ordinary, my fears seem a little silly.

I’m just about to text Rowan back when the door opens, and he’s standing in the entrance. His face is unreadable. He doesn’t enter. He only waits, looking like the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in a dark suit and tie. He’s still wearing the glasses he’ll occasionally put on when he’s reading, and I rise out of my chair, closing the laptop before I go to him.

“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching out for his hand.

He takes mine and raises it to his lips before pulling me closer. “What’s troubling you, Ava?”

I look down at my shoes, awkwardness filling my stomach. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

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