Chapter Twenty-Six: TRIP TO EUROPE
1070 Words
Eli
I hated Christmas shopping.
I hated crowded stores.
I hated wrapping paper.
I hated holiday music that somehow started playing months before the actual holiday.
And yet every year, without fail, I found myself participating anyway.
Because Kira loved Christmas.
And Kira always won.
The plane tickets sat on my desk.
Three of them.
New York to Europe.
Departure tomorrow morning.
Christmas was only a few days away.
New Year would follow shortly after.
For as long as I could remember, my parents had insisted we spend the holidays with them.
Most years I resisted.
Most years they ignored my resistance completely.
This year was no different.
My mother had called six times.
My father three.
The message remained the same.
Bring Kira.
Come home.
Stop making excuses.
I glanced at the tickets again.
Three tickets.
Not two.
Three.
The third belonged to Miss Kingsley.
Naturally, Kira had demanded it.
And naturally, everyone had agreed except me.
The problem was that nobody ever listened when Kira made up her mind.
Least of all Kira.
A knock sounded at the office door.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Miss Kingsley stepped inside.
She immediately looked uncomfortable.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Normally she entered a room talking.
Today she entered quietly.
That alone was unusual enough to catch my attention.
Then I noticed something else.
Makeup.
Miss Kingsley never wore makeup.
At least not that I'd ever seen.
Yet today she was.
Not much.
Just enough to be noticeable.
My gaze lingered briefly before I returned to the documents on my desk.
"Mr. Winslie."
"Miss Kingsley."
She shifted awkwardly.
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then she held out a folder.
"Kira's school papers."
I accepted them.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Silence.
Again.
Strange.
Something was different.
I looked up.
And that's when I noticed it.
A faint shadow beneath the makeup.
Barely visible.
Most people probably would've missed it.
I didn't.
Years in the military trained you to notice details.
Tiny things.
Changes.
Injuries.
Threats.
The makeup concealed most of it.
Not all.
A red mark.
Faint.
The shape was familiar.
Too familiar.
My jaw tightened slightly.
Finger marks.
Someone had grabbed or struck her.
The realization came instantly.
Cold.
Sharp.
Precise.
I kept my expression neutral.
Miss Kingsley clearly believed she'd hidden it.
Poorly.
But she'd tried.
The question was why.
And from whom.
She noticed me looking.
Immediately.
Her hand rose toward her cheek.
A nervous gesture.
Instinctive.
Defensive.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I could ask.
I should ask.
Instead I said nothing.
Because if Miss Kingsley wanted me to know, she would've told me.
At least that was what I told myself.
The truth was simpler.
I wasn't entirely sure why I cared.
That answer annoyed me.
A lot.
"Is something wrong?"
The question escaped before I could stop it.
She blinked.
Then smiled.
Too quickly.
"No."
A lie.
An obvious one.
But I let it go.
For now.
My gaze dropped back to the papers.
"You mentioned someone visited while I was away."
A pause.
"Diana."
Miss Kingsley's smile faded slightly.
"Yes."
"What did she want?"
"To see Kira."
That was true.
But something in her voice suggested it wasn't the whole truth.
I waited.
She didn't continue.
Interesting.
"Diana stayed long?"
"Only few hours."
Few.
Not a few.
Her English was still doing battle with grammar.
Some things never changed.
"How was the visit?"
A brief hesitation.
So brief most people would've missed it.
"I think good."
Think.
Not know.
Think.
I closed the folder.
Miss Kingsley looked away first.
Definitely not the whole story.
Yet she wasn't someone who complained.
In fact, if anything, she had the opposite problem.
She carried everything herself.
Always.
A dangerous habit.
One I was beginning to notice more often.
The silence stretched.
Eventually I stood.
"The flight leaves at nine."
Her attention returned immediately.
"The flight?"
"Europe."
Confusion crossed her face.
Then realization.
"Oh."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
"You forgot."
Her cheeks turned pink.
A dangerous amount of pink.
"Maybe little bit."
"Kira will be devastated."
"Please don't tell baby."
I rubbed a hand across my face.
The woman called my daughter baby so often that sometimes I suspected she'd forgotten Kira's actual name.
"Kira has been talking about this trip for weeks."
"I know."
"Constantly."
"I know."
"Without stopping."
Miss Kingsley laughed softly.
"There is no stopping Kira."
For once, we agreed completely.
I picked up the tickets from my desk and handed one to her.
She stared at it.
Then at me.
Then back at the ticket.
For some reason her expression softened.
Almost wistful.
"Thank you."
"It wasn't my idea."
"I know."
The corner of my mouth twitched.
Dangerously close to a smile.
Miss Kingsley noticed.
Unfortunately.
The woman noticed everything.
Her smile widened immediately.
As though she'd witnessed a miracle.
Embarrassing.
"Do not start."
"I say nothing."
"You were thinking it."
She laughed.
"I was."
Of course she was.
Outside the office, Kira's voice suddenly echoed through the hallway.
"DADDY!"
I closed my eyes.
Here we go.
Three seconds later she burst into the room.
"No privacy," I muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Kira climbed directly into the nearest chair.
Then pointed dramatically at Miss Kingsley.
"Nanny."
"Yes, baby?"
"You packed?"
Miss Kingsley froze.
The answer was obvious.
"No."
Kira gasped.
"Daddy."
"I know."
"We are leaving tomorrow."
"I know."
"Nanny did not pack."
"I know."
Kira looked personally offended.
Miss Kingsley looked guilty.
The situation was exactly as expected.
I leaned back in my chair and watched them argue.
Kira lecturing.
Miss Kingsley apologizing.
Both talking over each other.
The house felt louder than usual.
Warmer too.
A thought I immediately ignored.
Outside, snow had begun falling.
Christmas lights glowed across the estate.
Tomorrow we'd leave for Europe.
My parents would spoil Kira.
Kira would spoil my parents.
And somehow, despite all the noise and chaos that awaited us...
I found myself looking forward to it.
More than I should have.
My gaze drifted toward Miss Kingsley once more.
Toward the makeup she never wore.
Toward the injury she hadn't explained.
Toward the smile she kept forcing whenever she thought nobody was paying attention.
Something wasn't right.
I knew it.
But for now, I let the matter rest.
Christmas was coming.
Europe was waiting.
And somewhere deep down, a feeling I wasn't ready to examine whispered that this holiday might change more than any of us realized.
- Writer
