A strong hand wraps around my thigh under the table and I jolt as I recognise the warmth of his firm grip.
Jonathan’s face has the usual coolness of a mountain so high, it’s toying with the clouds and reaching for the sky. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”
“Inquiring minds want to know, Jonathan. After all, Alicia left too soon.”
“Dad…” Elsa pleads.
Jonathan’s hold on my thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the skin. I wince, placing my spoon next to my plate. I’m in no mood to eat.
I stare behind me in a helpless attempt to have Layla get me out of here.
My attention is stolen by a petite girl in a dirty hoodie and torn shoes, who’s carrying a crying baby in her arms.
Sarah.
My fingers shake as the recognition settles in the pit of my stomach. She’s eleven years older now. Back then, she was around ten, her blonde hair cut to beneath her chin and her huge green eyes filled with tears as she held the sign.
‘JUSTICE’.
Everyone else hit me with eggs, food, and even used condoms. They called me names. They pulled on my hair and scratched my skin.
They called me an accomplice.
She didn’t.
She held on to my sleeve and whispered the words that broke me to pieces, “Please, can I have my mum back? I have no one but her. Please, I’ll give you everything I have.”
Then she was pushed away by someone who threw a bucket of black dirt on my face.
It’s been eleven years, but I’ve never forgotten that girl. I dream of her sometimes, of her green eyes and her silent pleas. Of the desperation in them, of the innocence that Dad killed along with her mum.
Even now, as I recall that scene, my skin prickles and my ears start buzzing with a shrill beeping sound.
They’re coming after me.
They’ll kill me.
‘Do you blame them, though?’
The words I heard from the officers who were supposed to protect me rush to the forefront of my brain. Even they thought I didn’t need protection. If it had been up to them, they would’ve thrown me out of the car into the hands of the protestors.
A harsh grip on my thigh brings me back to reality. I’ve been clutching my watch, hands fisted in my lap.
Jonathan throws a quizzical glance in my direction. That says something, considering how engrossed he was in his verbal war with Ethan.
“I…” I stand abruptly, forcing Jonathan to release me. “I need to go.”
I don’t wait for their reply as I rush from there. My eyes meet Sarah’s before I duck down, then practically jog towards the back entrance
. That girl can’t find me. None of them can.
My steps are a frantic, jumbled mess. I trip and nearly fall, but I hold myself up and continue my escape out of here.
My car is nowhere in sight. My vision is blurry. I didn’t even bring my bag or my keys.
They’re coming for you.
Run.