As her father’s casket floated down the aisle, carried by four men in tuxedo, Angelica was attacked by a sudden feeling of sadness she had never felt before. The feeling of loss came to her despite the emptiness she felt towards her father, but there were no tears—just sadness and loss.

She didn’t know what she was supposed to call the man who spoke in front. Maybe he was a pastor of some kind because he talked about heaven and life being temporary. And she didn’t know what to do when he looked at her with his spectacled gaze, his white hair blinding, and said that she would have to say the eulogy.

She felt Henry nudge her side when she sat still in her chair, the invite ringing in her ears. What could she say about her father? She barely had enough memory to last a minute in front. Though she had been sharing one sky in the same city as the man of her own flesh and blood, the years of emptiness tore them apart as any continent could ever do.

“Dalton, get up,” Henry hissed beside her.

“Don’t push me,” she hissed back but did what he said. Good thing applause was not needed in moments like this because if that would have been the case, that would be pretty awkward, she thought.

She made her way as quickly as she could to the center, beside her father’s casket, focusing her eyes on the pastor. She couldn’t bear to look at her father’s lifeless form in that black box. As much as she could, she wanted to preserve his living look in her mind. As she took the pastor’s spot, the old man moved aside and gave her the floor.

Angelica cleared her throat for a few times, her mind already worming around her brain for any topic to talk about her dad.

“Patrick Dalton,” she mouthed the words like they were foreign. “Patrick Dalton,” she looked up and saw the solemn faces of her father’s five partners. They looked so innocent and kind. And that was what angered her. How could she know who among them would have ordered her father killed and her kidnapped? “He’s my dad,” she started. “He’s been a part of each our lives. We’ve all been in his presence,” she continued, feeling the words starting to flow now. Memories of her childhood—back when everything was still great—came rushing in. “When I was a child, he used to tell me to be strong no matter what happens. And he was—strong, I mean. He was strong enough to take on the challenges of different kinds of trials. And he was strong when we lost my sister. He was strong when mom died,” she paused to catch her breath, her eyes never wavering, her anger towards what happened to her father surging up, and she continued, “And I know deep in my gut that he was strong enough to go against whoever hurt him.”

She knew Henry didn’t like what she said, and she could see that in his face. His eyes tried to tell her to stop whatever she was planning, but the angry warrior within her was more demanding. She looked away from him and looked at her father’s partners in the eyes.

“I’ll make it sure that justice will be served though because that’s what Patrick Dalton fought for all his life. He fought for the justice of others. It’s only fair to give him one.” Angelica said what she wanted to say, and as she looked at the curious expressions of her father’s partners, she finished by saying, “May God rest his soul.” And then she walked back to her chair.

“I definitely need to talk to you after this,” Henry hissed with so much force beside her.

She didn’t care. She was able to say what was on her mind and that was cool with her. If it was true that her enemy was present in the room, she was glad she delivered her message.

She was not backing off.

 *****

After Angelica’s unexpected eulogy, Henry found the rest of the ceremony fast. He had been clenching his teeth the whole time and he was thankful when John Stewart, the last man who lingered long enough to chat with his ward, walked out and left him with Angelica and Cole.

Cole cleared his throat just as he was about to grab his crazy ward by the elbow and drag her out to have that talk he was itching to have. “Yes?” he snapped at the man.

“We have to talk about your situation,” Cole Hartman looked at both of them awkwardly.

“Sure,” Angelica answered.

“No, I know everything’s in order and that there’s no backing off the arrangement about this weird situation between me and Ms. Dalton,” he said stonily, taking Angelica’s hand and started walking. “Call us if a problem arises,” he added, literally dragging her to the door.

“Wait, I want to talk to Cole about this—”

“No, you’re not. You’ve been doing a lot of talking and it didn’t lead to anything good,” he rasped, opening the doors. “Let’s go.”

“But—”

He stopped just outside the door and cut her off. “Shut up.”

“What—”

He held up a finger, his eyes narrowing, “Shut. Up.”

She closed her mouth, but her eyes went wider.

“Let’s go,” he pulled her towards the exit and to his car.

“Let me go!” she tried to pull away from his grasp but failed.

“You’ve done enough for today, you know that?” he let go of her hand, afraid that he could break it with anger. “What were you thinking back there? Do you think this is a game? Do you have any idea what they are capable of?”

Her eyes flared up the same color as her hair, and her voice was even more fiery as she said, “They don’t know either what I’m capable of.”

“What?” his frustration showing now. “What are you capable of, Dalton? Tell me because I don’t really have any idea. The only thing you’re good at as what I know is chasing men, manipulating people, and saying stupid things!”

He knew the moment he said those words that he hit a sensitive nerve, but he didn’t care. The woman needed to hear. She had to know that everything was not as easy as she wanted it to be. “You don’t know what you are saying, Bell,” she whispered harshly, her eyes almost moist with tears.

“Believe me, I do,” he gestured with his arms, “People know that as well. You’ve been showing that to us. But right now, I don’t need you to be yourself. I need you to listen and follow what I say.”

Her mouth fell open. “Not be myself? You don’t even know me so you don’t have the right to tell me who I am!” she turned on her heels and started to walk away.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Hell! You want to come along?” she answered sarcastically.

This is not working, he groaned inwardly, retracing her steps and grabbing her arm.

“Let go of me, you jerk!” she pushed him by her free hand.

“Not until you listen to me. Look, you’re in danger. And because of your stupid mouth back there,” he gestured with his thumb, “you just let your father’s murderer know that you know things. It will not be for long before you’ll have a knife under your precious little throat. Now, you either walk away and be an open prey or you let me handle this my way. Because I don’t think your strategy worked, so let me just freaking do my job and keep you alive.”

“What job? Are you even being paid as my guardian?”

“No, but I owe your father big time. So stop being a bitch and get in the car, Dalton.”

“So now I’m a bitch.”

“Yes,” he looked at her seriously. “And being a bitch won’t keep you alive.”

“Bastard,” she glared at him equally at the same fashion.

“I know,” he said and pulled her towards the car. “And you have a lot of explaining to do about what you said to Stan earlier. I don’t think I liked that.”

“I don’t really care what you like as long as it’s me,” she smiled dangerously at him, her anger gone.

“Will you stop that?!” he shouted with frustration.

“Don’t tell me what to do, I hate that,” she arched an eyebrow.

Their gazes leveled, testing, challenging and calculating, he said, “Get. In. The. Car.”

“And where are we going now?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“We’re going to try to open the USB,” he answered, opening the door.

“I thought you didn’t want me to come along?” she asked as he bent her head down like a cop does to someone they caught and about to take to jail.

“I realized you’re not going to let that happen,” he slammed the door and climbed in the other side. “And its better you’re in my sight after all. Who knows what you’re going to do next?”

“What the hell are you doing now?” she gasped as he started to take off his clothes.

“I’m changing, can’t you see that?”

“I’m seeing something else,” she shrugged, eyeing him boldly.

Henry suddenly felt something stir inside him as her eyes roamed over him. He shook it off and tried his might to make the work faster, grabbing his black shirt and jacket from the backseat and hastily put them on.

“Disappointing,” she sighed and looked away, crossing her leg over the other.

“Shut up,” he snapped, turning the engine on. He didn’t like how he had to say those two words every time she was around.

“So, where are we going now? Where’s this friend of yours?”

“He’s meeting us at the mall.”

“The mall? Why the mall?”

“Because there are people at the mall,” he answered, turning the car away from the parking lot.

“Ah, yes. It will be safer,” she concluded.

“And let me remind you that my friend doesn’t like talky women, so you better zip that mouth of yours.”

“I’ll die if I do that,” she said simply, shrugging her shoulders.

Henry chose it best to ignore her and treat her with silence.

 *****

“You go meet your friend and I’ll go buy something,” she told him as they closed their doors.

Henry shook his head at her and said, “No, you stay beside me.”

“What happened to that distant shadow thing you talked about?”

“That’s not going to happen for now. Where are you going anyway?”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Can’t you see that I look like a pauper? I need some clothes,” she rolled her eyes.

“You look just fine. You’re not in a freaking television show, so scratch that thought. Let’s go,” he ordered.

“You don’t understand. I want and need this. I’m not used to looking this way, okay?”

“You’re really impossible,” he shook his head, not hearing her.

“I’ll be quick,” she said almost pleadingly. “I’m itching all over,” she said with exaggeration.

“Hide,” he suddenly said, turning around, facing her. As a matter of fact, they were standing too close she was nearly stripping him of his scent.

“What now? Oh, come on, you can’t be thinking we’re being attacked, right? We’re at the mall—”

“It’s Chanty,” he murmured under his breath.

“What?” she was about to ask him how he knew Chanty and then she remembered he was Philip’s friend. “Where?” she tipped her toes to look over his shoulder, “What’s wrong with Chanty seeing us?” she asked innocently.

“You don’t want your friend being dragged into this, do you?”

Realization poured down and her eyes widened. “Yeah, definitely not. What do we do? Oh my God, I think she saw us,” she whispered, leaning closer against his chest.

“Turn around and walk out,” he whispered.

“But she’s coming right at us!” she didn’t know what to do. She knew Chanty knew she saw her and she couldn’t very well act like she didn’t, right? Her friend, dressed in a floral blue-green dress, was walking towards them with a curious look on her face, her brown hair flying behind her as she hastened her steps. She was probably wondering why she was with someone who was not too familiar. But then, Chanty knew Henry because he was her brother’s best friend--or so they all thought. The problem was that she didn’t know anything about him and it would be difficult to explain how she and Henry were tangled together by some weird events.

“Ange!” Chanty cried out, waving her hand.

Angelica forced a smile on her face. “Go,” she said through her teeth. “I’ll meet you at the car.” Thankfully, he was too eager to go and not let Chanty see him that he did not argue.

“Don’t be long, I don’t want to have to rescue you all over again,” he said before he left in a hurry.

“Chanty, I was just about to call you,” she said, trying hard to think of some reason for the call.

“Who was that with you?”

“Uh, my date. But that’s not important,” she waved her hand and rolled her eyes.

“You’re dating someone?”

“Yes, yes, but don’t tell anyone, okay? I hate to make Cassandra happy with that thought.”

“You’re dating him, or chasing him?” her friend asked frankly.

“Forget about it, okay? I’ll tell you all about it when we meet tomorrow. We’ll be planning Willie’s party, right?” If her memory served her right, she knew Chanty left her a message about a meeting over coffee.

“Yes, we are,” Chanty’s eyes glittered with delight, thinking about her son’s walking party. “But why did you want to call me again?”

“Uh, my dad died.” Okay, that kind of came out wrong. It sounded too casual and too unimportant.

“What? When?” Her friend’s face was that of genuine concern and horror.

“Yesterday.”

Chanty’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears and she was immediately smothered in her friend’s arms. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want anyone to know, actually. But I’m fine.”

“Where is he now?” her friend asked, not addressing her father’s name. Chanty was the only person who knew of her past.

“In a jar,” she cringed.

Her friend looked at her for about a minute and when she finally understood what she meant, she gasped. “You cremated him that fast?”

“I know, it’s kind of harsh, but I want it over with. I want to remember him living, not dead.”

Chanty looked at her solemnly.

“I’m fine.”

“You want to go somewhere?”

Even if she didn’t have anything urgent to do, or if she didn’t have her life at the edge of a pit, she wouldn’t go with Chanty anyway. She knew her friend would only want her to talk more about her dad. And talking about her dad would only mean digging up buried skeletons and hurt.

“Actually, I have to run,” she smiled weakly, trying to look tired. “I need some rest.”

Chanty looked at her and sighed. “Okay, but you’ll be there, tomorrow, right?”

She nodded. “Of course. But please, don’t talk about my dad when we meet, okay? I don’t want to talk about it just yet.”

Chanty looked at her with curiosity for a moment but she eventually nodded, “Okay,” her friend said and then looked at her with a wicked grin, “And you’ll introduce me to your date?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged just to make her friend feel like it was definitely going to happen, which it wouldn’t. “I’m sorry, but I really need to go,” she kissed her friend and walked back to where Henry’s car was parked. She hoped Chanty wouldn’t follow her.

 *****

Henry was waiting patiently in the car. When he saw Angelica walking back, he straightened, deep in thought. His contact was coming to meet them in a coffee shop inside the mall. He knew his friend would be able to crack the device open and he was almost dreading the thought of what it contained. As he watched his ward walk, he couldn’t help but hope that she would not freak out.

“So?” he asked, getting out of the car.

“She’s gone. Now, where do we go?”

“Back inside.” He walked past her and she followed.

“What about my shopping?” she asked.

Henry thought about it and said, “Okay, you can go. I’ll meet you at the shop.” He told her the name of the coffee shop and then she gladly walked away, probably full of thoughts of dresses and shoes.

And probably, it would be a good thing that she wouldn’t be present when he met with Carl. It would give him time to think things through.

As expected, his messy-looking friend was already seated inside the shop with his cup of coffee, fidgeting as he usually is.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he rushed as he quickly grabbed a seat and faced his friend.

“Forget it. Now we’re even. Let me see it,” Carl held out his hand while opening his computer with the other. “I have a lot of things to do for the agency and this is out of my pay.”

“You owe me, right?” Henry grinned at the mess before him.

“Now I don’t,” Carl narrowed his eyes through his thick glasses as he stuck the black device in his computer and started to attack his keyboard. “I thought you’re bringing along a friend?”

“She’s coming later,” he replied.

“She?” Carl stopped for a moment and looked at him curiously.

“Yes, she.”

Carl whistled and continued typing. “Talker?”

“Very much so,” he nodded.

Carl’s interested face turned sour. “Not my type.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Got it,” his friend announced a few minutes later. Henry was already halfway through his cup of coffee and he leaned closer as his friend leaned away in success.

“What?” he asked eagerly.

Carl turned his computer around so that it faced him. “I said I cracked it. I can’t believe you didn’t. It was just a simple—”

“Don’t start with your computer jargons,” Henry muttered, already engrossed looking at the screen. At first, he found it hard to figure out what he was looking at, but when he did, his first instinct was to have a copy. He took out his own USB and made a duplicate.

Seeing his haste, Carl asked, “What is it?”

“None of your business,” he snapped.

Carl shrugged, used at being shoved aside after his job was done. “Who’s the redhead?” he asked after some time.

“Who?” The loading finished and he pulled out his device.

“The one coming over,” his friend motioned his head.

Henry looked up and saw Angelica, the clothes she was wearing earlier long gone. He turned the computer back towards Carl and whispered, “Erase it.”

Carl looked at him warily, “What?”

“Erase everything.”

“But—” his friend said, his eyes darting back and forth from Angelica and back to him.

“Just do it,” he gritted, looking at Angelica with all her shopping bags. Part of him wondered how she could shop so fast. “Don’t say anything.”

“Fine,” Carl shrugged and worked on his computer.

“Hey,” Angelica said, sitting beside him, looking at Carl with a curious look. “Is this your friend who hates women who talk too much?”

“Uh-huh,” Carl nodded his head, his fingers busy tapping on the keyboard.

“And he’s working on the device?” she asked once again.

“It’s empty,” Henry answered her.

He saw Carl from the corner of his eyes. Good thing his friend was with the agency and was very well trained for keeping his affect flat.

“What?” Angelica cried out. “What do you mean it’s empty?”

“It’s got nothing,” he shrugged, feigning frustration. “We’re empty-handed.”

“Then that’s not what they are looking for?” she asked him.

“It could be. But maybe they didn’t know it was empty.”

“Then what do we do? Are you sure it’s empty?”

“Yes, go ask him,” he motioned to his friend.

Carl looked up from his computer and nodded.

“Let me see it,” she demanded.

Carl looked at him and he nodded. His friend turned the computer around and slid it across Angelica.

“I told you it’s empty,” he said as he looked at her appalled face.

“I almost got killed for nothing,” she murmured, facing the computer screen.

“Probably not,” he said. “But at least we have something they think is important.”

“What do we do now?”

“Right now, we have to keep you alive until I figure out who is behind all this.”

She was silent, looking at the blank screen. Carl did a good job.

It’s better she doesn’t know, he whispered in his mind.