Page 85 of Deadline for Love

I worked on a petition to keep Enzo’s restaurant open, and the community was determined and united; they greatly appreciated the Santiagos and held no grudges. Of course, the shock was there, but Enzo and Maria had done a lot for their fellow citizens in the past, especially with the positive energy they gave... Even the families of the victims signed our petition. Together with the community chairperson, we presented Enzo with the survey results and signatures, which moved him to tears. He expressed his deep gratitude for everything and asked us to forgive him for not reopening until the situation had calmed down. They were able to accept that—we were all glad about this statement, and we hoped dearly that Enzo and Maria would recover and come to terms with the situation.

Alongside this project, I had also advocated starting a kind of open group for people who felt alone and unappreciated—Fernando’s words were still heavy on my mind, and I wanted to bring something to life to give people the opportunity to seek help early enough that didn’t hit their wallets directly—the city authorities understood my concerns. They agreed to allow voluntary sessions to be held once a week in a community where young people and adults would have the opportunity to communicate with each other in a group and hopefully get some help. It was a campaign financed by our tax dollars, and the response was overwhelmingly positive.

Furthermore, I started a forum in our publishing house where people could ask for help online. This forum could be commented on, and anyone could give advice or assistance to this person to alleviate their suffering. Of course, we had to employ a new colleague who took care of this page and ensured everything remained within a healthy framework.

We also collected donations for the families of the victims to help them with all the costs of the funerals and support so they wouldn’t have to worry about finances while they grieved.

Nia and I had also talked to counselors a few times, as the events affected us, and we were a bit overwhelmed by how quickly things could go wrong. However, we all found a thread that slowly but surely pulled us back into regular routine.

Eventually, I went to the honoring ceremony and was given a medal for my assistance. Our whole department and the police were celebrated by the citizens. My boss, James, was overjoyed and no longer put any pressure on me as he achieved his goal.Nova Chronicleswas the most popular newspaper company in the region. Nathan had been invited to the ceremony, but he didn’t show up. Maybe it was for the best since I wasn’t sure how I would react seeing him again anyway…

After all the time and effort I had put in, I returned to my normal routine. I was working a regular schedule without any extra projects, as I had finished everything I wanted to do. The trial day for Julian and Fernando was getting closer and closer. I decided not to attend the trial on sentencing day. I didn’t want to be in this again. However, I followed the proceedings through Mr. Morgan as he kept me current. Due to the interview Fernando gave, Julian also confessed to his crime. So, we all knew what outcome the trial would have —life imprisonment for both.

Today, I ended work early and went home at around three p.m. I took a hot bath and unwound. The radio was on, and I let the music fill me up. I was still exhausted by everything but was getting used to the routine again.

I started to keep a journal where I wrote down all my thoughts to help me find my way through the stressful days—my friends helped me a lot.

Enzo and Maria were still dejected, but I felt they’d get back on their feet. They would manage to regain their strength and live happily. And I would do everything I could to support them. Our relationship grew stronger, and we grew in a direction of healing.

The weather in Steel Valley was beautiful, and I loved the heat. The sun was shining so beautifully, and it lifted my spirits.

I opened my windows and let the warm breeze into my living room, then I took a cool drink and lay on the sofa. The sun beamed straight through and danced on my skin.

I kept my eyes closed, and the gentle beats of the music relaxed my senses, and I switched off my thoughts. I nearly fell asleep, but the music was interrupted by a radio announcer, which made me sigh in annoyance. He spoke in a tone of excitement and loud joy that I was not in the mood for, and he said that this music interruption would last a few minutes. So, I got up tochange the channel, but the same speaker kept coming on when I did.

Confused, I sat down and thought maybe something terrible had happened, so I listened carefully.

“Today, we have a mission, an operation. We want to ensure everyone who hears this doesn’t turn off the radio. We’ll wait a few more minutes and repeat this message again. We’ll do the same in an hour.”

The speaker increased the volume, which made things a little more exciting.

“We have been tasked with reciting a poem every hour. It is intended for a special person, and we hope, of course, that it reaches the person in question. This is the fifth time now, and I continue to get nervous performing it.”

I laid down again and waited until the man finally continued,“If everyone is ready, I will start now. Brace yourselves for tear-jerking lines filled with passion.”

“And that’s what all the channels were used for?” I grumbled, stretching towards the sun. It took a while, and then the speaker began to recite a poem in a calm and powerful voice, causing my eyes to snap open and jump to my feet. I nervously paced in circles around my living room, my heart fluttering with each line.

‘In the stillness of the night, under the soft glow of stars,

Your words echo in my heart, revealing my scars.

Your letter, a mirror to my regret and shame,

Weighs heavy on my soul, like an unspoken blame.

I stood on the precipice, lost in my rage,

But your words pierced through like a guiding sage.

I’m ashamed to face you, to meet your gaze,

Yet I can’t deny the truth in your words’ maze.

It’s not the act itself that I regret the most,

But the absence of your presence, like a ghost.

I’m ready to confess, to make things right,

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