Chapter 6: Confessions

Six o'clock in the morning—this means he had only slept for two hours, just like every day for the past week. But he wasn’t surprised by the insomnia that had plagued him since the night at the restaurant because every time he went to bed, he would remember what had happened.

After Maya left the restaurant, he paid the bill and then drove off in his fast car. He stopped at the first traffic light and saw her blue car at the front of the line. When the light turned green, he followed her car, driven by curiosity to see where she would go. After a short drive, she stopped in front of a small public park, got out of her car, and entered the park. He waited for fifteen minutes, and when she didn’t come out, he followed her inside to see what she was doing.

He found her thanks to the dim park lights. She was sitting on a swing with her back to him, her shoulders shaking, indicating she was crying silently, just as he had seen her that morning. He watched her back for a few moments before turning to leave because, for the second time, he couldn’t do anything for her. But after taking two steps, he heard a heavy voice say, "You’re not going to leave me like you did in the file storage room, are you?"

He was stunned. How had she noticed his presence back then when he hadn’t made a sound? And how did she notice him now in this near-darkness?

She took a deep breath and said in a hoarse voice without turning to him, "I’m starting to think you enjoy seeing me cry. You’ve seen me cry twice now."

He turned back toward her, saying, "Three times, counting the day of your father’s funeral."

"I wasn’t crying then."

"I saw the tears in your eyes when I shook your hand." Then he added after a pause, "And something tells me you cried all three times for the same reason—your father."

She wiped her face harshly with her hands and said, "What do you want, Alexander?"

He stood next to her, putting his hands in his pants pockets, and replied coolly, "You were the one who asked me to stay."

She began to swing gently, her feet still on the ground, and said, "I just asked you a question. I didn’t ask you to stay."

After a moment of silence, he asked without preamble, "Why bring up your father’s story at dinner?"

"To hurt Frederick."

"Really? And yet I’m sure he’s not sitting in a dirty park crying over the past right now."

She stopped swinging, tightened her grip on the swing’s chains until her hands turned white, and whispered through clenched teeth, "Shut up."

"Why? Because I know you’re the one who’s hurting, not him."

She shouted emotionally, "What did you want me to do? He was cruel to Nina. Go to my car, and you’ll find the sketches she spent four hours picking out just lying there. She was unbelievably happy. And then, in the end, it turns out he’s a liar and crushes the hopes he made her build. He was cruel to her."

He reprimanded her, "And the only way you could retaliate against his cruelty was to be cruel to yourself? You bring up a story that tears your heart apart! You bring up a story you wish day and night had never happened! For God’s sake, it’s not a tale for entertainment to be passed around in gatherings! It’s a painful story about your father’s death! It’s a story that recounts his last moments! A story that says he was wrongfully killed! A story that tells how he died betrayed by his enemies." He paused, seeing tears slowly rolling down her cheeks, but continued after swallowing hard, "You know, at some point today, I was wondering how you think. But I think I get it now. You don’t think. You don’t have a brain to think with."

A faint smile appeared on her lips as she murmured, "Am I supposed to find this amusing?"

He walked until he stood in front of her and said seriously, his eyes showing determination, "This isn’t meant to amuse you. It’s meant to wake you up. You don’t think, do you know why? Because when someone you love is hurt, your emotions take over, leading you blindly, blinding you from seeing the truth, which often hurts you in the end. Because Frederick hurt Nina, whom you love, you reminded him of the story where his friend was killed before his eyes without thinking that it’s your father’s story that would hurt you. And because your father, whom you love, was killed, you joined the Narcotics Unit without thinking about your mother, who is tormented by the mere mention of the word 'drugs.'"

She raised her head to look at him, staring into his eyes that had turned a deep blue from either seriousness or anger, then smiled, saying, "You really are Frederick’s nephew."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, prompting her to explain, "You remind me of him now. In fact, you’ve reminded me of him ever since you told me he was your uncle. Because he was my father’s closest friend, I had a strong bond with him. Besides, I admired him and his qualities—he was honest, strong, confident, loyal. And I’ve seen all those qualities in you."

"Strange! I thought he had corrupt blood."

She stood up, saying, "Of course he does. And the biggest proof is that all those qualities are gone, replaced by the opposite. He betrayed my father, lied to everyone, and became so weak that he slapped a woman."

After a moment of hesitation, he said, "That’s because you accused him of killing his friend, and it hurt him."

She corrected him angrily, "That’s because I told the truth, and it made him feel guilty."

He took a few steps away from her, looking at the green grass underfoot, wondering what had made him follow her. But then she called out, "Alexander! Wait."

He stopped without turning around. Seeing him standing still, she walked over to stand in front of him and said, "I want to ask a favor since you’re my commander. I want you to request my transfer to another team. It would be better for both of us. I disobey your orders, and you definitely don’t need the hassle—your great team is enough, especially Kirk."

He replied calmly, "Interesting. I understand why the transfer would be better for me, but now tell me why it would be better for you."

She answered, "For two reasons. First, you’re Frederick’s nephew, and… well, you have the great qualities he once had, but you also surely have the same corrupt blood, as I mentioned before, which means you’ll betray and lie, and I’m not ready for that from you. So it’s better for me to stay away from you." She paused to see his reaction, but his face revealed nothing, so she continued slyly, "And more importantly, you’ll become weak and slap me. My God! Imagine the pain I’d feel if you slapped me. I’d die of sorrow, especially if I had fallen in love with you," she teased, raising her eyebrows.

He asked without any expression, "And the second reason?"

"You don’t need to hear it."

He scoffed, "How considerate of you."

She studied him for a few seconds, then spoke with determination, "As you wish. The second reason is that… I’m going to kill your uncle Frederick just as he killed my father. In my car drawer, I’ve kept two bullets for three years, with one engraved with the first letter of your uncle’s name and the other with the first letter of Madoff’s. I won’t rest until I put them in their heads, just as they put a bullet in my father’s head. So I think it’s best if you transfer me to another team because it would be hard for you to work with someone knowing they’ll kill your relative."

"What if he’s innocent?"

"Unfortunately, he’s not. So what do you think? Will you request my transfer?"

"As you wish."

She stared into his sharp, hawk-like eyes, telling him she was going to kill his uncle, and he responded, "As you wish." Of all the answers she expected to hear, "As you wish" wasn’t one of them. She smiled softly at him, then reached out to his face, gently patting his cheek with her cold fingers, and said sadly, "I’m sorry, but that’s what’s going to happen. However, I promise I’ll attend your uncle’s funeral, and I hope I don’t see tears in your eyes when I shake your hand."

Then she left him standing there.

He left the park after she did, driving back home, but then he changed his route. Maya’s words made him want to see his uncle. Twenty minutes later, he arrived at the luxurious building in the upscale neighborhood where his uncle lived.

Frederick opened the door after the third ring to find his nephew standing there. He said irritably, "I should call the police to arrest you for disturbing the peace at three in the morning, even though you have a key to the apartment." He then walked inside, with Alex following after closing the door behind him.

Alex said as he followed his uncle into the kitchen, "The key is for emergencies."

Frederick poured himself some coffee, then offered the pot to Alex, who declined, saying, "No thanks, I need to sleep."

Frederick replied, "So what are you doing here? To say goodnight?"

"No, I’m here for you to explain why you ruined dinner—dinner I paid for—for everyone."

Frederick raised his hands, "No one asked you to pay for it."

"Why the lecture you gave Nina?"

Frederick placed the coffee cup he was holding on the table and calmly said, "Nina! Here’s the truth since you went to the trouble of coming here. I wasn’t planning to say a word of what I told her. I just got flustered when I saw Maya because her eyes were accusing me of killing Van. That accusation hurt me, and I got angry. Then my anger grew when Nina said she didn’t know my name. I imagined if someone else had invited her and something had happened to her. You know, if it had been any other girl, I wouldn’t have cared or gotten angry, but she’s Van’s wife’s sister, practically a daughter to him, and he wouldn’t have wanted anything bad to happen to her, and neither would I. All these things made me explode without stopping. But don’t worry, your uncle isn’t a mean man. I’ll make it right."

Alex leaned against the kitchen wall and asked, "What about Maya? Are you going to make it right with her?"

Frederick took a sip of his coffee and said, "Let’s not talk about Maya. I don’t want to discuss her."

"I thought you didn’t raise your hand against women."

"Maya is an exception. By the way, I want to tell you something. What’s between me and Maya stays between me and Maya, so don’t interfere."

Alex whispered, "As you wish," then turned to leave the kitchen and head to the apartment door. But as he grabbed the door handle, Frederick, who had followed him, said, "I met Madeline, Van’s wife, after the funeral. Before I could speak, she hugged me and comforted me. She told me she understood the pain I felt from losing my friend. Then she apologized for Maya’s behavior, as she had refused to let me attend the funeral, and asked me not to be angry with her for accusing me of killing Van. She said she couldn’t even imagine that I had a hand in her husband’s death because as long as Van trusted me, she trusted me too." Frederick smiled painfully when Alex turned to look at him and continued, "Tell me, why can’t Maya be as wonderful as her mother? Why doesn’t she believe I’m innocent, that I had nothing to do with what happened to her father?"

Alex’s expression softened, and he said, "I believe you’re innocent, and as long as I believe you, I’ll make Maya believe you too."