by Aiden Bates
"I'm ninety percent sure," Derek continued, "that her parents will be contacted. We're just waiting on the advocate, and waiting for Carmela to be ready to tell us how she came to be trafficked. But we have to do things right. We have to make sure Carmela is safe, in every sense of the word."
Alex bit his lip. "Yeah. Yeah, I know." He hung his head. "I just wished there was a way to do it without victimizing the family, too."
Derek stroked Alex’s hair. "That would be nice." What else was he supposed to say? Carmela had to be his priority, but he could certainly see Alex’s point of view. He wasn't about to tell a man who'd been mourning for twenty years to just suck it up.
Two weeks after Carmela had moved into Derek's condo, Ms. Myles reached out to Carmela and Derek. "I have some great news," she told them. "The bilingual child advocate has finished up her business in Albany and is on her way to you."
"That's great news." Derek gave a big thumbs up to his young charge. Her answering smile was a little less enthusiastic, but at least she smiled. "It's best to get everyone on the same page as soon as we can, so we can give Carmela the most security and stability."
"True. We've got her working with some of the other survivors with shaky English skills, too, but Carmela is her top priority right now. You guys will meet with her on Monday morning. Does that work for you?"
"Absolutely." Derek put the date and time into his calendar, and then hung up.
When he turned to face Carmela, he found her crying. "What's wrong?" he asked her, putting his good hand on her back.
She flung herself against his chest. "My English skills aren't shaky!" she sobbed. "I was top of my class back in California! I had straight As! I was in advanced English!"
Derek held her for a long time. "You'll get it back," he whispered. "You'll get it all back."
He hoped he wasn't lying.
***
Alex yawned and got up from his bed. He didn't want to head in to work today. He just wanted to stay curled up in his bed, under the blanket, and go back to his dream about Derek. Sure, his thing with Derek probably wasn't any more than a fling, but he could still enjoy a fantasy, couldn't he?
He worked out, showered, and got dressed. Then he headed back out, ready to start his day.
He found he wasn't alone on the small landing between his condo and Derek's. That wasn't unusual these days. So many different people kept coming to help Carmela it was more or less impossible to keep track now. Plus, Amadi had hired a service to help Derek clean the place, in the hopes that he'd stop overusing his bad arm.
The woman who stood in front of Derek's door was not there to clean. Her suit was too expensive for that. She stood a little taller than the average woman, maybe five foot nine or so, with short, wavy brown hair and cool, professional smile. "Am I at the wrong apartment? I'm looking for Derek Brown."
Alex dropped his briefcase. The world spun around him as the connections linked in his brain. "Ayla."
Her smile turned to a frown. "Do I know you?"
Derek's door swung open, and not a moment too soon. Alex fell against the wall, and Derek had to guide him into the condo. "Alex? Here, you must be the advocate. Can you give me a hand here? I can't exactly hold him up—broken ribs."
Ayla wrapped a supporting arm under Alex’s shoulders and between the two of them, she and Derek maneuvered Alex into the house. Alex couldn't speak. He couldn't move on his own, either. He heard everything as though it came in from a distance. "What's wrong with him? Is he on drugs?"
Derek snorted. "No. Trust me. I'm not sure what's wrong with him, but he's the last person I can think of that would be on drugs. He might be having a medical emergency, though." He pulled out his phone. "Alex, I'm calling your boss. I need you to cooperate here and tell me what to tell him, okay?" He waved a hand in front of his face. "I don't think he's having a stroke, he's not showing the normal signs, but something's going on here. Look, he's lost all his color."
"Okay." Ayla stood back. "You know him better than I do."
Derek took his pulse. "Did he hit his head? I don't see any blood, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything."
Ayla shook her head. "He called me by my name and then this." She gestured at Alex.
Derek frowned and looked back over at Alex. Alex tried to move, to tell Derek what was going on, but he couldn't.
Derek might not have needed him to. He was a smart guy. He narrowed his eyes in thought as he turned back to Ayla. "No one ever told me your name, ma'am."
Ayla rolled her shoulders. "Ayla Brennan, from the Department of Social Services."
Derek's jaw dropped, and he covered his gaping mouth with his hand. After a second, he dialed his phone. "Hi, Dr. Wade? This is Dr. Brennan's neighbor. Yeah, Alex won't be in today. He's had a sudden shock. I'll let him tell you when he's feeling better, but right now he's a little unwell. Yeah, I know it's kind of short notice, but honestly I thought he was having a stroke. Dude can't move. Okay. I'll have him call you when he's moving around." He hung up the phone.
"Okay," Derek said, looking between Alex and Ayla. "Now we've got that out of the way. It seems like we've got a bit of a situation here."
Alex turned his gaze to Ayla again. She, too, had gone pale. "Alex Brennan. As in, my brother. My brother, Alex Brennan."
Tears poured forth from Alex’s eyes. "Ayla, you're alive!" He could speak again. "How did you—how are you—when did you—" Derek put a warm hand on Alex’s back, and Alex sat up a little straighter. He wasn't alone here. This was the happiest day of his life. Ayla was alive and healthy. Alex could try to act like he knew that. "I'm sorry. Can I try that again? I'm thrilled to see you alive and well. It broke our hearts when Rick—when he did what he did."
Ayla stiffened. "You have no idea what he did. Or else he wouldn't still be living with you now."
Alex blinked. "You don't know?" How could Ayla not know? She was obviously someone important, with access to information the public couldn't see if she chose to look. She hadn't looked. She hadn't looked for her own family, even after all this time.
"I know I was terrified and alone." She stepped back and gripped her arms just above the elbows. "That's what I know."
"Oh God." Alex covered his face with his hands for a long few seconds. "Rick was arrested, the day after he failed to bring you home. Charges were pressed, and he was sentenced to ten years, Ayla. It was the maximum sentence they could give at the time."
Ayla looked away. "Yeah, they weren't great about child trafficking until recently." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "At least, not to the people who weren't the direct traffickers."
"He did it because he had some gambling debts he owed the people who had you, but the cops couldn't track you down." Alex’s chest hurt. He stood up, in case that relieved some of the agony. "Anyway, he went to Malone, and he hung himself in jail maybe seven months into his sentence."
"Really?" Ayla's lip curled. "You do know I can fact check that, right?"
"Of course." Alex looked down at the ground and tried to remember all of the things Derek had told him about what these survivors endured. "I hope you will. Grandma claimed his body, but no one went to his funeral. Or hers, after that." He rubbed at his face. "Ayla, I'm so sorry I didn't know what was going on. I'm sorry I didn't stop him, or find you myself. I didn't know how, I didn't know where to start—"
Ayla held up a hand. "Alex, you were thirteen, okay? You were a child. You couldn't have known how to look for me, and as for knowing what he was going to do or what was going on—well, if you had, you'd have been hiding things a lot better than you usually did when you were thirteen." Now she finally did come into the room and sit down, still rubbing her arms like she was cold. "I'm sorry—I wasn't expecting to see anyone again."
"Why? Ayla, you have to know we've always wanted you to come home."
Ayla scoffed. "Sure, you'd have wanted me to come home like I was. Can we not? Okay, maybe you and Ivy would have wanted me home, but Mom and Dad? They'd have
gone on and on about how dirty I was now, how 'used.'" She shook her head. "No thanks."
Alex opened his mouth to object. His parents would never have treated Ayla like that, and to even think they would was doing her an incredible disservice. Derek put a hand on his shoulder, though, and shook his head just a little bit.
Right. They'd talked about this. Alex hadn't thought he'd have to wrap his head around it in such a personal way, but they'd talked about it. "Okay." He took a deep breath and gripped the edge of the couch. "Okay. I'd like a chance to catch up with you." His lips felt numb as he spoke, like he'd gotten extra Novocain at the dentist. "You didn't come here to meet with me, though. You're here to help an amazing young woman. I'm going to, I'm going to head back to my place. That's next door." He looked down at his hand and was surprised to find it shaking. "I'm going to be there, if you're willing to maybe meet with me. And maybe Ivy?"
Ayla swallowed hard. Her eyes caught the light from the window. "Do you think she'll want to see me?"
Alex stood up. "I'm not trying to guilt or shame you here, Ayla. You had your reasons for staying away, and they were real for you. And I'm sure you missed Ivy, too. For Ivy, it was like someone grabbed half of her soul and walked off with it. She will want to see you any way she can, and she will love you as much as she did the last time she saw you."
Ayla covered her face and tried to muffle a sob. Alex brushed the top of Derek's head with a kiss before staggering back over to his place, closing the door, and sitting in the dark.
He toyed with his phone. The temptation to call his mother was strong. He could offer her so much relief, just with a single push of a button. He could ease that awful burden on her heart. He could bring light back into her eyes again.
He closed his eyes. Yes, Mama was a victim. So was Alex, and so was Ivy. So was Dad, even though Alex rarely thought about him that way. The one who'd suffered most was Ayla. If Ayla had reappeared a month ago, Alex probably wouldn't have understood quite so well as he did now. Getting to know Carmela, and Derek, had taught him better. It had been twenty years since Ayla had been taken. She was going to need time, especially if the people who'd taken her had lied about their parents' feelings the way so many other kids' had.
He could almost hear Derek's soft voice in his ear. She needs time. You need to ease her into this. Ease her in.
He found his sister's number and sent her a text. Ivy, can you come over after work? Don't tell mom and dad.
Ivy was still setting up her room at the high school where she taught. It took her a while to get back to him. I'll have to rearrange a few things, but I can do that. Why, what's up?
I can't tell you over the phone. Just come over. Alex got to work straightening up the condo, not that it needed much work, and tried to get his brain together.
He called Rick after a couple of hours. "Rick, thanks for being so understanding."
"Well, it's not like you pull stuff like this all the time. And that neighbor of yours made it sound like you'd have been basically useless in here anyway. Fortunately for you, it's a slow day." Rick yawned. "So tell me, what had you going non-verbal on your neighbor's doorstep at eight o'clock in the morning?"
Alex searched for the words. Now that he had to say them out loud, he couldn't find them anymore. He squeezed his hand into a fist. "It's Ayla," he whispered. "My sister, Ayla."
"Did you get news about her?" Rick's voice gained intensity, almost as if he'd known her himself.
"You're not going to believe this, Rick. She's the advocate. Carmela's child advocate." Alex burst out laughing. He couldn't stop himself. Nothing about this was funny, but the laughter poured out of him like a flood. "I was on my way out the door, and there she was. I wouldn't have recognized her—she doesn't look like she did when she was ten, you know? But she still looks just like Ivy." He clutched at his sides.
"My God." Rick's voice was awed. "You know, I've never been a religious guy, but I'm going to head down to the chapel tonight. That's just incredible."
"I know, right? I should be ecstatic. I should be throwing a damn party, because my sister's come home." He wiped the tears from his eyes. "But she hasn't come home, not really. She's just here to do a job."
Rick made a sympathetic little sound in the back of his throat. "Look, she probably wasn't expecting to see you any more than you were expecting to see her, man. I'll tell you what. I'll see if Dr. Radic can come out. I don't know if she was planning to come see Carmela anyway, but she might have time to come and check in with you."
"You know I'm seeing her?"
"Buddy, it's a hospital. We're surgeons. We change in the same locker room. Privacy is an illusion, okay? We don't pry. We avert our eyes. It's the best thing we can do. Anyway, I'll see if she can stop in, and we'll take things from there. In the meantime, take as much time as you need, okay, brother? We'll work it out with Human Resources when you get back."
"Thanks, Rick. I'm going to try to come back as soon as I can." He took a deep breath. "We've both got jobs to do, right? She helps kids, I help people, and I think we'd both be kind of ashamed of ourselves if we let things slide at this late date."
Rick hesitated. "Well, don't rush back too fast. And if you need to take off at some point, well, you can do that. I'm happy for you, Alex. Even if it's not exactly how you imagined it, at least you know she's alive and thriving."
Alex straightened up. "Thanks, Rick."
Rick was right. Maybe he'd dreamed about a more deliberate reunion, but he'd given that up years ago as unlikely at best. Ayla's presence, alive and well, was a miracle in and of itself. He needed to remember that, and be grateful for it, instead of griping that he didn't get to bring her home in triumph.
He got online and ordered groceries to be delivered. He couldn't do much, but he could fix up a quick meal. He remembered what Ayla liked best when they'd been kids, and only hoped she still liked horseradish beets and dumplings with potato and mushrooms. He even got flowers to decorate with.
Ivy showed up at four. She didn't ask questions, she just pitched in to help clean up from all of the food prep. By the time Ayla turned up at five, the only sign that anyone had worked hard in that condo was the food itself and a small, irritating burn on Alex’s right thumb.
Alex could devote all of his time, and attention, to watching the reunion between the twins. When they'd been children, it had been nigh impossible to tell the twins apart. Things were different now. Ayla's hair was cut short, and Ivy's hair was long and had been artificially straightened. Ayla dressed for court, while Ivy dressed for the gym.
But there could be no mistaking their relationship. Their movements mirrored each other's as they saw each other across Alex’s small living room. They reached out to touch the other twin's right cheek, and then collapsed in tears in the other one's arm.
Alex stood back and watched, a warm feeling in his chest. He'd done something good, after all.
Chapter Six
Derek sat up watching Supernatural reruns with Carmela the night after her first meeting with Ayla Brennan. Neither of them was really watching the show, but it was the only decent thing on that wasn't the news and it made decent background noise while they chatted. Carmela's feet were a lot better than they had been, which seemed to be doing a lot for her ability to focus.
Pain, and the absence of pain, were funny that way.
She looked over at the wall between their space and Alex's. "So Ms. Brennan is like me."
"Apparently." Derek flicked his tongue over his dry lips. He didn't want to break Alex’s confidence in him. And he didn't know how much Ayla had told Carmela. Not having a family, beyond Amadi, meant Derek didn't have a lot of family drama. While he was grateful for that most of the time, he also had no idea how to handle other people's family drama when it came up.
"She said she was held for four years until she could get away." Carmela looked over at the screen, but Derek knew she wasn't really seeing it. "That's a long time."
"It is." Derek shu
ddered away from the thought. Ayla had been taken when she was only ten. "It's pretty impressive that she's in as good shape as she is, you know?"
"She's a lawyer." The awe in Carmela's voice might have been more appropriate if she were talking about a goddess, or a super hero. Maybe in Carmela's eyes, she was. "She wasn't too screwed up to go to college or anything like that."
"Nope. I'll bet it was real hard for her to get back to school, though. You can ask her about it, if you want." Derek wouldn't normally encourage that kind of obtrusive questioning, but if Ayla had already shared her story with Carmela she was probably okay with it. "Eventually, whenever you're ready, you'll probably go back to school too."