Page 416 of Eternal
He nods. “Back then, he was a simple congressman. Ambitious. Quiet. Now he’s untouchable. Close to the president. Untouchable in every way that matters.”
“And you’re sure it’s him?”
“As sure as anyone can be without evidence. I think that’s the name you mom found. She thought the address meant something.”
He squints, suddenly thoughtful. “You’ve come at the right time. Tomorrow’s the Fourth of July. Every year, he hosts a private celebration. Fireworks, press, big displays. It’s one of the rare days the place isn’t locked down like a bunker.”
I tilt my head. “And it still has no weak points?”
He chuckles faintly. “Everything has a weakness. You’ll have to find it. And hey... at least you’ll get to watch the fireworks.”
“I’ve never liked the Fourth of July anyway,” I mutter.
He laughs, the sound thin and warm. “Your mom did. She used to say that her life began that day.”
Me?...
I just…
I want him to stop talking about her. Because the wounds are opening again, and I can feel myself bleeding raw from the inside, with no evacuation system.
Talking about her is the same as reliving it.
And my heart… it’s not accepting it.
It refuses, the image of her, alive and happy, feels blurry.Fake. Imagined and created by a kid’s hope who needed her to be better than what she became.
It feels like a lie someone’s forcing into my brain.
He reaches back into the drawer, this time pulling out a small, scratched metal object. He then places it gently into my palm. An old FBI badge. The edges worn. The emblem faded.
“Keep this with you,” he says softly. “I like knowing that some part of me will always stay with a part of Amane. And maybe... maybe it’ll bring you luck.”
I close my fingers around the badge. It’s cold. Heavy.
He studies me one last time. “Please, Azra. Be careful.”
I rise to my feet slowly, his words echoing in me. The badge is tight in my hand, the address pressed against my ribs.
My mother’s story didn’t die with her.
Not yet. I step out. Everything’s spinning. Faces, sounds, all drowning me.
Breathe. You need to breathe.
But my chest tightens, heart pounding.
Calm down. You’re okay.
The elevator doors close, cold and suffocating.
In… out… in… out…
My breath’s shallow, fast, panic creeping brutally on me. I press my forehead to the wall.
Focus. Focus.
Doors open. Blinding sun. I stagger out, gasping, my hands shake as I grab my bike.
