Page 111 of Covert Mission

It’s rusty and not the perfect fit. But it’s all I’ve got.

I learned how to say it when I stayed at my friend’s house when I was little. A slice of pain hits my heart, taking my breath.

Donna was Kara’s mother’s name.

I can still taste the cupcakes she made for us. The way she’d tuck me in when I’d sleep over. The hugs. The laughter. Things I’d never experienced before.

When she’d tuck me and Kara in at night, she’d help us say our prayer, her singsong voice wrapping around me and sending me off into sweet dreams.

So unlike the nightmares I had at home—living in the house of a monster.

I rub at my temple as I’m assaulted by memories.

Tears try to work their way up my throat, but I won’t allow them. I can’t go back there. Especially not to the day Kara and Donna moved away, and my tiny, fragile heart broke for the thousandth time.

They were my only glimpse of what life could be like.

I’m lost in thought when a glint of light catches my eye. I hold my breath. It’s a vehicle, lumbering down the hillside toward me.

As I narrow my eyes, it comes into focus.

Oh my god. A bus to the city!

I’m standing by the roadside when it trundles to a stop at the intersection. One man gets off. I get on.

After quickly paying the cash fare from the small amount of money I have in my pocket, I squeeze into the throng of people. I catch my breath as I reach for the handle that’s hanging from the ceiling.

Thankfully, I was the only one waiting. Not one more person could squeeze in. Men and women fill every seat, the entire aisle, and they’re even standing near the driver.

There’s also a goat. I happen to be the lucky person standing next to him…her… I have no idea what it is, but it has on a yellow collar. All I can think of is that I’m glad I scavenged my boots out of Lucas’scabinaafter he left.

Those little hooves look like they’d be hell on toes.

“Can I pet your goat?”

The woman smiles and nods. But I have a feeling she didn’t understand me. My brain is so frazzled right now, I can’t even imagine trying to figure out the word for goat in Spanish.

I scratch the animal’s head. It bleatsbaaa.

She smiles and pats the thing’s head too. Okay. I can understand that. The goat is happy. So is she.

But the knots inside my stomach threaten to twist me completely in half.

I need to report in, but that conversation isn’t suited for a bus full of ears. Or the side of the road when I was waiting to try to catch a ride. Once I get to the next town I’ll make the call.

Our bus sways and jolts over the barely maintained road. A weird tension in my stomach intensifies. My skin breaks out into a fine sweat, peppering my arms and neck with moisture.

My mouth fills with saliva.

To distract myself, I let my thoughts turn to Lucas. I’ll have to face him soon, he has my backpack, which holds my passport and other important things.

But I need to try to salvage my career. I have a mission to fulfill. Then… maybe he’ll understand.

Or maybe he won’t.

Not that we have a future.

Lucas is an operator. He has an important job. A man with skills like him and his team are surely in demand all over the world. The last thing I want is to be waiting for a man…