Missing
<center>Missing</center>
By
Lady MoonHawke
“You're long gone
but I can't move on,
and I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain.”
Missing - Everything But the Girl
“I still don’t understand why you have to go,” Carolyn Stargazer complained to the seemingly empty room.
Her daughter emerged from the closet. “I have to go because Steven’s lawyer said there are some financial considerations I need to be aware of. I told you that.” She dropped a load of clothing into her open suitcase.
“Well, do you want me to come along?” Carolyn asked.
Aurora shook her head. “No. I can manage fine on my own. And Bernard can help me with anything I need.” She paused a moment, wiping her eyes. “Poor Bernard. I’m going to have to write him a glowing letter of recommendation. He said he’d been with the family since Steven was very young.”
“I still think you should just have everything mailed up here, so I can look over it,” Carolyn insisted.
“No. Mother.” She sighed. “There are things Richard has to tell me in person, and I’m not going to drag him to the wilds of Montana for it. Can you forward my mail?”
“How long will you be gone?” Carolyn asked.
“As long as-” It was on the tip of her tongue to say, ‘As long as I can,’ but she quickly changed her mind. “As long as it takes to finish things, I guess.”
“And then what will you do?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Ask me again sometime when I’m not wishing to be at the bottom of the ravine.” She shut the suitcase as the doorbell rang. “That will be the car service. Will you tell the driver I’m on my way down?” She picked up her jacket, shrugging it on over the dark blouse and skirt she was wearing. Picking up her suitcase, she left the room, shutting the door softly. She didn’t so much as glance at Steven’s door as she went to the stairs. At the bottom, she hugged her mother stiffly. “I’ll call later,” she whispered, then left the house.
* * * * * * * *
Aurora woke from a doze as the limo pulled to a stop. Right away, the door was opened from the outside, and a hand appeared to help her. Taking it, she stepped out onto the circular gravel drive in front of Steven’s Colorado mansion.
“Thank you, Bernard,” she said, recognizing Steven’s major-domo. Steven had once told her Bernard was a fixture at the mansion, there as long as he could remember.
“Of course, Madam. May I offer you my most heartfelt condolences?” Bernard went before her to open the door.
“Oh, Bernard, I should be saying that to you. You knew him so much longer than I did.” She crossed the checkered marble floor to the stairs. Do you mind terribly if I take a different room? I don’t know if I can bring myself to sleep in...” She trailed off, uncertain how to continue.
“It will be no trouble at all. In fact, I took the liberty of making up the identical suite in the North wing. The dimensions are the same, but the furnishings are different, and perhaps the memories will not be so strong.” He hefted her bags easily, leading her up.
“Perfect. What will I do without you, Bernard?” Aurora asked plaintively.
“Without me, Madam? I’m not going anywhere,” he protested.
“I know you wouldn’t want to leave,” Aurora agreed. “But it may not be up to either of us. If Steven’s family reclaims the house tomorrow, I may not be welcome anymore.”
“Leave tomorrow to tomorrow, Madam, if I may suggest. Mr. Dearbourn asked if nine o’clock in the morning might be convenient.”
Aurora nodded. “He said as much in his letter. He wants to discuss some financial considerations.” She looked around the room Bernard had led her to. It was indeed identical to the suite in the other wing with regard to size. However, the furnishings here were faux-antique, rather than the genuine ones she’d worked with a decorator to collect. She dropped her purse tiredly on a side table. “Do I have any commitments for tonight?”
“No, Madam. When would you like dinner served?” Bernard set about opening drapes and turning down the bed.
“Is it ready now?”
“Very shortly, actually. Shall I unpack for you?”
“No, thank you. I’ll do it later.” She thought for a moment about dinner. “Could I just have dinner on a tray up here whenever it’s ready?”
“Certainly. Within the half-hour, I should think, then.” He left quietly, shutting the doors behind him.
Aurora set about emptying her suitcase, transferring what she’d brought into the closet/dressing room. She surveyed her efforts and sighed. She’d packed hastily in Montana, and only brought what she knew she didn’t have available here. She stripped off her jacket, adding it to the items hanging before her, then sighed.
“This is never going to do,” she muttered to herself. She exited the closet, and moved with a purposeful stride toward the other wing.
She found herself face to face with Bernard on the way back to her temporary quarters.
“Can I take that to the laundry room for you, Madam?” he asked, indicating her burden.
Aurora glanced down at the laundry basket in her hands, filled with clothing, and a few personal mementos she’d wanted. “No, thanks. I just needed some things from my- the other suite. You brought up dinner?”
“Yes, Madam. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
She shook her head. “No, Bernard. I’m going to have to manage on my own sooner or later. But thank you.” She shifted her basket and impulsively kissed him on the cheek.
Bernard managed to keep his composure. “Shall I arrange a wake-up call?” he asked stoically.
“Please,” she replied. “7:30, and breakfast at eight, if possible. I need to leave by 8:30.”
“Of course. Until I am told differently, your word rules supreme here, Madam.” Bernard turned and left her on the landing.
* * * * * * * *
At five minutes to nine the next morning, Aurora found herself settled in a chair, with coffee in a china cup on the low table beside her. Behind her, the door opened, and she smoothed her right hand down her black skirt, hoping to appear composed.
Richard Dearbourn came around to greet her. “Thank you for coming in today, Miss Stargazer.” He took her hand and shook it gently.
“Richard, it’s Aurora, please. What do we need to cover?” She picked up her coffee and sipped from it, hoping her shaking didn’t rattle the cup and saucer too audibly.
Richard moved behind the desk and sat down. “Well, let me give you an overview, then we can get down to the details.” He opened a folder and selected a single sheet. “Steven’s will is a long, complex document, detailing how various investments and businesses should be distributed. Most of it goes into a trust, the beneficiaries of same aren’t a concern right now. There is, however, a section dedicated to your personal welfare. Steven gave you a credit card several months back, I believe?” When she nodded, he continued. “Good. If you have it with you, I need to collect it.”
Numbly Aurora drew the card from her purse and passed it over the desk. Richard took it, and handed her an envelope.
“Why don’t you go ahead and open that while I deal with this.” Before her eyes he drew a pair of scissors from his desk and snipped the card into pieces.
Aurora peeled back the flap on the envelope with cold fingers and pulled out the paper inside. Stuck to it was a shining platinum card with her name embossed on it. “I... I don’t understand. You took the other one....”
“While Steven was alive, it was easy for him to provide funds over and above those available on the former card. But in the event that something happened, he wanted you to have access to essentially unlimited resources,” Richard explained. He handed her a pen. “You’ll want to sign the back of it right away.”
She signed it, a little dazed. “What do you mean by unlimited?” she asked, setting the pen down.
“Let me get back to explaining, then I can answer any questions. As I said, Steven was very interested in your personal welfare should something happen to him. To that end, he arranged an open line of credit through that card, the bills to be paid from a renewing trust. The self-renewing checking account will also continue to be available to you. But that’s just the small stuff. Steven left to you three items comprising the bulk of your inheritance. You will take immediate and complete control of the house here in Colorado, and its attached property, the beach house in Malibu, which I understand you are familiar with, and a half-million dollar trust, administered by this office. My understanding is that this money is meant to replace what you stand to lose if you choose to pursue a military career.” He flipped through the papers, checking for omissions. “That seems to be the long and short of it. Can I answer any questions?”
Aurora was stunned. “I don’t even know what I should be asking.” She sighed. “What can I do with the properties?”
“Anything you like. While they are in your name, the bills will still be handled be the accountant’s office. One phone call will make either home available on a few hours notice, or you can choose to take up permanent residence in either, or both, depending on what you like.”
“And Bernard? Do I need to make any arrangements for him?” she asked.
“Well, I can’t get into the details, but I can tell you the Bernard was also provided for generously, to the point where he could retire today and be quite comfortable.” He could almost see the thoughts whirling in her mind. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to read these summaries, and sign where I’ve indicated, and that should be about it.”
Slowly, Aurora drew the papers forward and started to read. “You’re not kidding about any of this, are you?” she asked after a few minutes.
“Not at all. You are now a very wealthy young woman, or at least, you will be once you sign the papers,” Richard replied.
“And if I don’t sign them?”
“Then it all goes into a trust for your welfare and upkeep. The properties will be administrated by me instead of you getting to do what you want with them.“ He studied her a moment. “Aurora, refusing this bequest will not bring Steven back. He went to a great deal of effort to make sure this is an iron-clad document, impervious to challenge. It was his last wish to provide for you. Don’t turn it down in a fit of pique.”
She returned his frank look with a level one of her own. “So I should sign it because it’s what Steven wanted?”
“It was the only thing he could do for you.”
Without hesitation, she scrawled her name on the line. Then she looked up. “Would it be crass to ask about the cars?”
“Which ones?” he replied, shuffling through some more paper work.
“Uhm, my car, I guess. The Ferrari that’s currently in Montana, and the one in California.”
He shuffled some more papers. “Well, according to this, the Testarossa is yours, registered and insured through the company. The F50 is a company car, and will be kept in place at the beach house for your use. Is that all right, or would you like to change it?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. That’s fine. I just... I never expected this, really. I never expected to need to deal with all of this. I never expected for him to die.”
Richard put a comforting hand over hers. “We never expect these things. All we can do is pick up the pieces.”
Aurora stood and offered her hand. “Thank you, Richard. I’ve taken up enough of your time this morning. I’ll call if I have any more questions.” She collected her paperwork and left, fighting to hold back the tears.
She let them fall in the safety of the limo as it rolled back toward the mansion, arms wrapped around the stack of papers, and head bent low over them. The cuffs of her blouse were wet through by the time the car stopped, and she sat still, trying to gather her ragged composure. After a moment, the door was opened from the outside, and she let Bernard help her out. She could tell from his expression that he was very concerned for her.
“Can I do anything to help, Madam?” he asked solicitously.
She shook her head. “Not right now. I’m not ready to make any decisions yet. I just want to lie down for a while, if there’s nothing pressing.”
“No, Madam. I am not aware of anything requiring your attention at the moment.” He preceded her up the broad stone steps and opened the massive doors for her. “May I take your things?”
She allowed him to divest her of jacket and purse, but kept the sheath of legal papers. “I’ll probably need to look at these again when I can think.”
Bernard nodded. “Very good, Madam.” He moved off quietly, and she was left alone.
Aurora looked around the foyer; her foyer now, her staircases, her double-stacked plate glass windows overlooking an emerald green lawn, darker pine trees in the distance. She crossed to the right-hand stair, the noise of her heels on the marble becoming muffled in the burgundy carpet. Somehow, all the dark colors in the entry didn’t ruin the mood of the room, instead seeming to bring the huge proportions down to something human and manageable. Tiredly, she progressed to the guest suite she had elected to occupy. Once in the room, she stepped out of the shoes, set the papers on a nightstand, and rolled into the bed, allowing herself to cry since she was once again alone.
Aurora was suddenly and completely awake, eyes open, staring into the darkness. She was still a moment, trying to determine exactly what had awakened her. Slowly, she became aware of voices; Bernard’s and another, low-pitched and impossible to make out. She crept out of the room, pulling on a robe as she went. She stole quietly along the hall, listening intently, trying to make out the other voice. She stopped at the top of the stairs, and heard a door shut somewhere below her. Before she could move, Bernard appeared in the foyer.
“Can I be of some assistance to you, Madam?” he asked.
She looked around. “I thought I heard another voice. Were you talking to someone?”
“No, Madam. There is no one here but ourselves. Is there some way I can assist you?” At the confused shake of her head, he continued. “Perhaps I could bring you some tea?”
Aurora nodded. “Yes, please. I’ll go wait in my room.”
She went back and settled into a wing chair, pulling the robe close around her. The other voice had been so familiar, and she could almost place it. But before she could come to any kind of conclusion, Bernard was entering the open door with a tray. Deftly, he poured her a cup, and she dutifully drank it while he watched. As she finished it, she felt very sleepy.
“Bernard, I’m going to go back to bed. Can you take the tray back down?”
“Of course, Madam. May I assist you?”
She accepted his help back to the bed, and let him take her robe as he studiously ignored her nightgown. She lay down, and felt him pull the blankets securely over her. “G’night, Bernard,” she murmured sleepily. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, Madam.” The door closed softly, and Aurora drifted off to sleep.
Despite her midnight ramble, Aurora was awake early and ready to face the day. Dressing quickly, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Bernard was pressing oranges for juice. He handed her a glass before she could ask.
“Good morning, Madam.”
She took a large swallow. “Mmmmm. Wonderful. Thank you, Bernard.” Settling on a stool at the island, she watched him finish squeezing the juice. “Bernard, did I heard someone else in the house last night?”
He turned away, putting the juice carafe into the refrigerator. “I heard nothing out of the ordinary, Madam. Perhaps it was an unsettling dream.” From the cavernous appliance, he removed a package of eggs, and set to work scrambling them.
She sighed. “I suppose so. It’s hard to be in this house now. I keep looking for him.”
Bernard nodded solemnly. “I understand. I find myself expecting to see him as well.”
Aurora rested her chin in her palm, elbow planted on the tile, watching him work. “So what do we do now?” she asked after a while.
“I imagine we go on, Madam.” He started collecting dishes for breakfast.
“Can we eat in here?” Aurora asked. “I just can’t face that amphitheater of a dining room this morning.”
“I anticipated as much,” he replied, and set about laying places at the country table in the breakfast nook. Bernard waited while she seated herself, then served her scrambled eggs and toast. He filled his own plate, then retrieved the juice. He set it on the table, then seated himself on the bench opposite Aurora.
Once he was seated, Aurora picked up her fork and started eating. “What do I have scheduled today?” she asked after a few minutes.
“John Bartlet asked if he could see you today. He’s the accountant for the estate, and would like to go over some records with you.”
Aurora frowned. “Do I have to go to his office, or can he come here?”
“He would prefer to meet with you here, he said. Some of the records that require his attention are kept here.”
“All right, then. Let him know I’m at his disposal today,” she decided. “And Bernard, can you do me a favor?”
“Anything, Madam. What do you need?”
“Can you move my things back to the Southeast suite? It’s my house now, and I have to live with it.”
“Of course, Madam. I will be happy to.”
Aurora emerged from her meeting with the accountant with a splitting headache.
“Fine, John. Whatever you want to do is fine. I don’t understand a damned bit of it anyway.”
“Miss Stargazer,” he began again, following her out into the foyer, “it is very important that you know what’s going on with these accounts. The income is for your benefit.”
“That’s about the only thing I do understand.” She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do whatever you think is best, and I’ll keep reviewing the records here until I get it, okay?” She was gratified to see Bernard by the door, ready to usher Bartlet out. Thank you for coming John. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“Don’t worry about it, Miss Stargazer. We’ll get you up to speed soon enough.” With a polite nod, he was out the door Bernard opened for him.
Aurora sighed and dropped into a chair set against the wall. “I didn’t understand word one of what he was telling me,” she muttered. “Bernard, I hate to be a pain, but would you bring me two aspirin and some water, please?”
“Of course, Madam.” She heard his footsteps retreat, then return a moment later. She gratefully accepted what he offered, swallowing the pills and water quickly.
“Thank you,” she sighed. “What’s next on my incredibly fascinating schedule?”
“William Martin telephoned from Los Angeles. He would like a week of your time to review and sign the necessary documents relating to the California property.”
“Him, too?” His silent nod did nothing to improve her spirits. “Okay. Get me a flight out in the morning, and someone to pick me up at the airport. I’ll go throw some things into a bag and be ready to hit the road again in the morning.” She watched his retreating form as he went to carry out her directions. “And Bernard, if there’s a car available here for me to drive, I’ll get myself to the airport in the morning. I need the time to myself.”
This time his silent nod was reassuring at least.
* * * * * * * * *
Aurora trundled up the jetway into Denver International Airport slowly, trying to manage her carry-on without bashing anyone. The flight back from Los Angeles was crowded, and summer travel had made a living crush of the terminal.
The crowd before her sluggishly thinned, and eventually she found her was to the airport bus station, and from there to the long term lot, where the Range Rover Bernard had offered for her use still waited. Gratefully she slung her bag into the back, then shut herself in. For a minute, she rummaged through her purse, looking for the ticket stub she had acquired when she arrived, eventually locating it, along with some crumpled bills to pay the fee. Finally, free of the airport, it’s parking lots, and the ground traffic the swirled around it, she set out on the highway, toward Colorado Springs and home.
It was dark in the mountains by the time she reached the driveway, and she flipped on the high beams, grateful for the car’s four-wheel drive and high point of view. When the mansion finally came into view, she let go a grateful sigh and turned the car’s headlights off, leaving it idling in the drive as Steven had always done when he drove.
Pulling herself out of the comfortable seat, she retrieved her luggage from the back and climbed the granite steps, not at all surprised when the door opened as if by magic before her. “Thank you, Bernard,” she replied automatically, fatigue evident in her voice. She stopped short when her tired senses registered not only the faithful Bernard, but also another person in the foyer. She stared a moment, letting herself become adjusted to an unexpected visitor in what was fast becoming her sanctuary. Finally, she was able to speak.
“Hello, Mother.”
Carolyn had the good grace to wait until Bernard had installed them in the study with coffee before tearing into her daughter.
“I don’t understand this, Aurora. I didn’t raise you to live like this.” She gestured with her coffee cup. “Look at this thing. I didn’t bring you up to value these kinds of things.”
“It’s Lalique, Mother,” Aurora replied, coolly sipping from her cup. “They’ve been in Steven’s family for many years. It would be more materialistic of me to sell them, and I assure you I have no intention of doing that.”
“You have a butler, Aurora. There is a strange man in your otherwise uninhabited house who picks up after you and cleans for you and puts your car away. I raised you and your sister to look after yourselves, not live uselessly in the lap of luxury.” Carolyn was clearly livid.
“Bernard has been in the employ of Steven’s family for longer than Steven could remember. He and I are quite possibly the last two people on this planet who gave a damn about Steven. You know none of his family were at the service. And he knows how to manage this house. I’d be lost on my own here.” Aurora set her cup and saucer down. “What gives, Mother? You didn’t fly all the way to Colorado to pick on my living habits. What do you want?”
Carolyn gestured to a pile of envelopes on the coffee table. “I brought your mail. I thought we should talk about part of it in person.” Disdain clear, she tossed an open envelope to Aurora. “I’d like an explanation for that.”
Aurora removed the contents, choosing not to comment on its condition right away, and perused the letter. “Well, that’s good. Might solve some of my problems, as well.” She glanced over the top of the paper to her mother, then back at the letter. Quietly, she folded it back up, then rose to her feet. She crossed to the door and opened it. “Bernard, have you prepared a room for my mother?”
Bernard appeared in the hallway. “I have, Madam.”
“Excellent. Please show her to it. I’m going to bed myself. The jetlag is catching up to me.”
She heard her mother comment behind her, “Jetlag only work when flying west, dear.”
Aurora didn’t look back. “Good night, Mother. Bernard will see to anything you need.”
The rattle of the curtain rings echoed in Aurora’s ears as she lay in the tester bed staring at the wooden canopy. She had shut herself in, closing off views of the painfully familiar room. She forced away the memories of the place, trying to focus on the letter her mother had brought. Weeks ago, before Steven’s death and its accompanying chaos, she had applied to a graduate studies program at her father’s project base. Though her father’s exact whereabouts were still unknown to her, the chance to find him and relieve her heart of some of its burden seemed better at his old installation.
Aurora dragged the down-filled comforter up over her head, burying herself between it and the matching pillows, looking for oblivion. “It’s the right thing to do,” she muttered, drifting off.
Poised on the brink of sleep, she could have sworn she heard a whispered reply. You know what to do, Angel. Go find your father.
Aurora awoke in the morning determined to face her mother. Emerging from her room earlier than usual, she made her way quietly to the kitchen before Bernard started breakfast.
“I need a favor,” she began as he came in, “and it’s going to be a lot of work, I’m sorry to say.”
“Anything you wish, Madam, I will be happy to provide,” was his reply.
Aurora seated herself at the island. “My mother hates this kind of living,” she explained, gesturing vaguely. “She thinks it’s opulent and conceited to have ‘too many rooms’ and so forth. I want to give her a real taste of it, and I’ll really need your help to pull it off.”
“What do you wish me to do?” Bernard asked, a sardonic grin beginning to form.
“I want the whole nine yards for breakfast, in the airplane hanger that passes for a dining room. The crested china, the monogrammed silver, and whatever stemware a person uses to drink orange juice.” She set some papers on the tile. “And I’d like these brought out at the conclusion of the meal. Can you pull it off?” she asked.
“I believe it will be possible. Do you have any particular requests regarding the meal itself or service?”
“Can you serve from and remove to the buffet? I’d hate to have you miss it.”
The grin was full-grown now. “I shall be glad to assist you with this endeavor. May I suggest you take the interim time to dress for breakfast, as I shall do? The scene we are going to play will come off much better with the actors in the appropriate costumes.”
Aurora leaned across the countertop to kiss him on the cheek. “You think of everything. I’m going to nip up the back stairs so she doesn’t see me.” She pushed off from the island and moved toward the swinging door at the back of the room.
“Formidable,” Bernard murmured once she was gone.
Half an hour later, Aurora was in the dining room, hair piled onto her head and secured with a dozen pins, aqua blue Chinese-style dress smoothed from neck to ankles. She twisted her rings around her fingers, waiting apprehensively for Carolyn to appear. Bernard had already gone up to announce breakfast, and was moving trays of food with tempting smells to the side-board.. Finally the last platter was in place, and he filled beautiful crystal goblets from an equally stunning carafe.
“I’m going to owe you a week off for putting this together,” she murmured, sipping her juice. “Mimosas?” she asked, tasting the champagne.
“It’s traditional for a brunch, but they’re very weak. Were you planning to drive today?” he asked.
“Not anymore,” she replied, taking a larger sip. “But cut me off at two, anyway. Just to be on the safe side.”
He nodded, and set the decanter next to the platters. Silently, he moved to pull out the chair to Aurora’s right as Carolyn entered the room.
Carolyn took her seat sedately. “Are you ready to speak sensibly, Aurora?” she asked, sipping from her own juice. She set it down again quickly. “Since when do you drink?” she demanded before Aurora could reply to her first question.
“Without permission? Since I turned 21. It’s a pity you had to miss it.” She sipped calmly from her own glass. “I believe I was speaking sensibly last night, especially for some who came home to an uninvited guest.” She helped herself to eggs, bacon and muffins from the trays Bernard offered. “What exactly did you fly all the way down here to talk about, other than my correspondence?”
Carolyn selected a muffin, ignoring the other items Bernard offered. “You can’t join the UESC, Aurora. The restriction on the trust forbid it. Your father never wanted you to join the military.”
“I imagine he didn’t. He didn’t want to face the possibility of having to account for his actions. But I’m not willing to accept that.”
“Your father has nothing to account to you for,” Carolyn snapped. “He did what he thought was best, and I supported his decision. It’s not your place to go in and try to change things now.”
“Not my place, Mother? And where exactly is my place?! In Montana, where he left me? He went to travel the world and do Lord-knows-what in the military service. Well, if it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.”
“Don’t do this, Aurora,” Carolyn pleaded. “If you join the UESC, or any military service organization, you will forfeit any right to the trust fund your father left you. Then where will you be?”
“Look around you, Mother. This is mine. All of it, along with the resources to keep it, never fear. If I go to the military and turn right around and come back, this will still be here, waiting for me. I don’t need a thing from my father’s phantom hand.” She nodded to Bernard, and he brought over the papers she’d left in the kitchen, now enclosed in a handsome leather folder. Taking the pen he offered, she signed the form with flourish and noted the date. “There. I am officially enrolled as a graduate cadet at the UESC Academy in Mojave, California. When do I have to report for orientation, Bernard?”
“The date listed is August 1, Madam. A little more than a week from today.” He received the folder from her and the pen.
“Thank you. Will you make sure the proper arrangements are made for my trip?” As he nodded, she looked back at her mother. “Also, please make arrangements for Mrs. Stargazer to return home. I don’t believe she will care to stay much longer. Right, Mother?”
Carolyn pushed her chair back from the table. “Good luck, Aurora,” she said sharply. “I’m going to pack. I think you know you’ll be getting severance papers from the trust attorney.”
“I’ll make sure you have my new address,” Aurora snapped back as Carolyn left the room. Once she was gone, Aurora’s proud posture slumped. “Have I done the right thing?” she asked softly.
“It’s never easy to cut the apron strings, Madam. And a dull axe is rarely the easiest weapon to use,” Bernard replied from behind her.
Aurora shook her head. “Well, it’s done now. Make sure she gets to the airport, all right? And be sure those papers go out in today’s mail. I want them to know I’m coming.”
“Absolutely, Madam.”
* * * * * * * *
The sun blazed in the pale blue sky overhead, and sweat trickled down the back of Aurora’s exposed neck. She longed to swipe at it, or adjust the pins that were pricking her scalp, but the drill sergeant had already raged at cadets who made similar mistakes, and Aurora was determined not to join them in running around the buildings in the brutal desert heat.
“Now some of you may think your Mommies and Daddies can still help you out here.” The drill sergeant continued his rant, somewhere in the neighborhood of 70 decibels. “But that ain’t gonna happen! You’re on your own here, and you by God better get used to it! Now you panty-waists get your stinking gear together and let’s move out!” He set off jogging across the tarmac, and Aurora scrambled to grab her duffel and catch up, determined to stay on his heels the entire time. Montana and Colorado were very far away, and it would have to be in this place and at this time that she proved herself. And maybe some of the pain she still felt at Steven’s absence could be forgotten, or at least ignored. For now, she just ran, determined to be the best.
*The End*
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