Four Hundred And Twenty Three

Four Hundred And Twenty Three
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the park as Cecilia bounced ahead of me, her small backpack swinging from her shoulders. Picking her up from school had become a ritual I cherished, a fragment of ordinary life that somehow felt miraculous after everything. Today, I allowed myself a little indulgence, a stop for hot dogs in the park before heading home. Cecilia practically skipped ahead, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the vendor’s cart.

“Hot dog, Mama! Can I get ketchup and mustard?” she chirped, already jumping up and down.

“Of course, baby,” I replied, ruffling her hair. I smiled at the innocent joy in her face, but my mind was still uneasy. Since Victoria began staying with us under the same roof I have been feeling that way.

We approached the cart, and I handed Cecilia a couple of coins. She chose her toppings with deliberate care, completely absorbed in the process. I allowed myself a moment to breathe, leaning against the nearby bench and watching her. The sunlight kissed her golden hair, and I felt a pang of gratitude, grateful that at least for now, she was safe, happy, and unaware of the storm that seemed to hover perpetually around her.

Then I saw them.

Victoria.

She was standing a short distance away, leaning casually against a tree, her long legs crossed at the ankle, sunglasses hiding her eyes but failing to conceal her smirk. Beside her was a man I didn’t recognize fully at first glance, short and slightly stocky, a bit balding, with a face that nagged at my memory. Something about him was familiar, though I couldn’t place it immediately. My chest tightened.

Cecilia, oblivious, turned back to me, waving her hot dog. “Mama, look!”

I smiled, forcing calmness, but my eyes never left Victoria. She was wearing sunglasses and a face mask but I knew her very well and could spot her a mile away. My stomach knotted as I studied the man with her. It was the same chubby man from that night. He didn’t look particularly threatening, but the combination of Victoria and anyone she aligned herself with always spelled trouble. And there was a kind of familiarity to him, like I've seen him from somewhere before not just that night I saw him with Victoria.

I quickly grabbed Cecilia’s hand. “Sweetheart, let’s eat over here,” I said, guiding her to a quieter spot under a large oak, near where Victoria and the man sat. She frowned briefly, sensing the urgency in my tone, but obediently followed.

From my vantage point, I kept Victoria and the man in sight. She appeared animated, speaking in hushed tones, but the gestures, the quick, furtive glances around the park, the way she tapped something in her bag, made it clear she wasn’t just here for a stroll. My heart raced.

Cecilia chattered happily, trying to distract herself with mustard stains and sesame seeds, but I couldn’t focus on anything but Victoria. Who was that man? And why did it feel like I should recognize him?

The hot dogs were finished too quickly. Cecilia, satisfied, ran off to chase a butterfly near the fountain. I followed at a distance, keeping my eyes on Victoria. After some time she left while the man remained checking the contents of the bag.

Later that evening, after putting Cecilia to bed, I couldn’t shake the image of Victoria and that man. Her voice, though low, carried across the hall from the living room where I had stopped to check my emails.

“…meet me tomorrow, same place,” she said, clearly into a phone. “After this, you should never contact me again”

My heart dropped into my stomach. She was planning something. Something secretive, something that involved money. My first instinct was to tell James, but I knew better than to involve him before I had any idea what she was up to. But I feel suspicion was not enough I have to figure out what she was planning and gather evidence. I moved closer to the wall, straining to hear. “Yes, yes. I’ll be there. Don’t worry. Tomorrow.” She hung up with a soft click.

The weight of what I’d just heard pressed down on me. My mind raced. Was she planning to meet that man I had seen in the park? And why? Money exchange? Threat? Blackmail? .

I paced the living room, thoughts spinning. I couldn’t ignore this. I had to know. I had to see for myself. And I would. I would follow her, quietly, from a safe distance. I didn’t care how late it was or how much risk I might be taking.