Salomé let out a deep breath as she let herself fall onto one of the café sofa's that stood in the corner. "That was quite the disappointment." She looked in thoughts, stared at nothing in specific as a small frown creased her forehead.

Leaning my elbow onto the table, I rested my cheek in my hand, tracing the coffee menu that laid in front of me, trying not to stare at her. "It surely was. What more do we know, now?" I wiped the tiredness out of my face. It had been early, with no luck in the whole situation.

I wouldn't say it was a waste of time, because more questions had raised and for some reasons, I really wanted to know more about Davu and the whole situation with Gloria and him having to leave England, if there was nothing to testify.

Last night, when sleep couldn't get to me, I couldn't stop thinking about Gloria. About what she had already been through, and would go through if her father would leave, too. What would become of her? My heart couldn't bear it, and the feelings of involving myself into the situation had grown much stronger. Maybe I finally understood Aurora's big heart for those people.

We had gotten more time to talk to Davu, but since we had raised suspicions last time, an officer had been sent to sit with us in the same room. Every time we had a question about his past, the officer cut us off, restricting the information we could get. We ended up talking about the weather, which was something the three of us didn't care about at all.

With no surprise, the next talk would be with an officer, too. Thank goodness, we had Daniel. Shambling his way over as his hands were full of a tray with drinks and sweet foods, he placed it on the table in front of us, asking one of his colleagues to take over the orders. He plopped down with a sigh, handing us our latte macchiatos.

"Grazie mille." I mumbled out, warming my cold hands by wrapping them around the cup.

He handed out the muffins after that, took a large sip of his coffee and glanced between the both of us. "How's it all going with the case of Davu and the little girl?"

I shrugged. Took a sip. "Not as well. We cannot get much information out of him. He seems to be struggling with his past, and besides that, one of your police colleagues decided to stay with us."

"We couldn't ask stuff." Salomé removed the paper cup that held the muffin. I watched her. "He cut us off the whole time. Isn't there a way that you can sit with us? Like, stay with us there so we can talk to Davu and get the information we need?"

"What information is that?"

"The former crimes he has performed, as well as the official records. He doesn't know the English political as well as the police and other arrangements. Who knows what he's hiding because he thinks it's a huge crime here, when it would have been in the country he came from? Punishments seem to be harsher over there. They have death penalties, right." Salomé took a bite out of the muffin, to which she hummed a little.

"Good stuff, Daniel. Do you have the recipe for that?"

Daniel grinned, crossed his arms over his chest. "I cannot have you stealing this. You're already a good baker. So, that is a secret recipe, my girl." Salomé nudged his shoulder. I watched the two of them, wondering how they had become so close, when all I had done was spent time with her.

Perhaps, the way she treated me was simply a mirror of my own behaviour. I hid the truth. I barely spoke. I didn't show myself, fully. Why would she to me, then?

Salomé glanced at me. I didn't know if she saw my confused expression, but her laughter died to a small smile. I wondered if the expression on my face betrayed the envious feelings I'd had for a minute there.

"But yeah. Can you do that for us? It could be easy, couldn't it be?"

Daniel regained his serious thinking face. He stared down at his coffee and let out a deep breath. "I think I can manage that, but.." He glanced at me. "They know Zev. They know our friendship. I'm afraid it will only raise more suspicions. And if they find out.. it might be a risk for my job.." He clearly hesitated.

Salomé insisted, but now that I was so involved, I didn't want to let this chance slip out of our hands. "But..Daniel, you were there with the placing of the children with Teddy. In the refugee homes, the other houses. Gloria needs therapy, which is funded by the government. Perhaps, we can think of something.."

"Ah, you want to know what has happened to Gloria. The government won't always fund those cases for forever. Her father has been with her from Nigeria to England. He knows what happened on the way to here- he knows what she has seen. The request of help is formed, and from there the therapy can go further without endlessly prying in the child's memories before she finally speaks up what has happened to her. It would save the governments money and the duration of the therapy process." Salomé's words flowed out of her mouth. I liked her cleverness. Thought it was attractive. I looked away.

"I mean, truly, I don't mind the process of her therapy taking so long.. she has probably been through so much that she simply isn't able to process her emotions and memories into words.. but you know. It might be something that may help us?"

Daniel stayed silent for a long time, but eventually, he gave in. "I think I can work with that. The only thing the government cares about is money, after all."

I gave Daniel a hug. He looked surprised, but hugged me back nonetheless. I had totally forgotten about what he had been meaning to tell me about Benjamin a few days ago.

We walked the track through the field of flowers which Aurora had loved so much. For a minute, I saw my shoes as the shiny Clarks, my trousers were traded for a black suit and Benjamins' hand was squeezed into mine. The hearse drove before us, we were the first ones in line. The white curtains of the hearse were closed, but through a small gap I could see the coffin where Aurora lay. Benjamin plucked a flower along the way and cried silent, but thousand tears.

At some point, he could barely walk anymore from the pain he'd felt in his heart. I had lifted him up, felt how he wrapped his arms around my neck, wiping his tears on the self-knitted sweater Aurora had made for me, which I wore underneath the black suit jacket.

For a moment, I heard how the clocks of the church started to ring a melancholic and monotone tune. Heard the shuffling of feet behind me. A bird or two there, the sound of the breeze hitting the leaves up in the high trees. I remember how a mother horse and a foal had been watching us, the foal neighing our direction.

Life was taken, but life was given at the same time.

"You alright?" Salomé startled me. I had to blink my eyes several times to regain track on reality.

The question made my heart and head want to burst. I wanted to tell her everything, but I couldn't. The day she died pained me so much, and not only because she had passed away, but because of something I had done.

Or in other words, hadn't done.

Something I despised myself for. I wanted to believe I had changed, wanted nothing to change, but when I thought of my own son, I wasn't sure if I had.

I glanced at the flowers, but they were barely there. The summer season was turning into autumn, and soon they would lay to rest, only to bloom back stronger in spring again.

"Can I just say something? I just.. lost grip on so many things and all that's been happening to me is losing important things in my life. I don't want it to happen, but I can't.. I can't reach it to hold it, to stop it from leaving me." I let out a deep breath, wondering where the courage came from to let those words leave my mouth. Maybe my mind was betraying me, knowing I couldn't do this all by myself and needed someone to talk to. I regretted it already.

Salomé stared at her rust brown boots as we walked the track, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her beige camel coat. "Why can't you reach it? Is there something in between that stops you from walking to that specific point?"

I licked my lips. They were chapped by the chilly wind. "I think so. I try to do my best, try to be a changed man, try to see the positivity in things, but.. sometimes it's just so hard."

"What is that, in between that point and you?"

I gazed at the grey sky, wondered if she could see me. "I think it's the pain from when she left us. Part of me just cannot face the reality of that, yet. It's been half and a little more of half a year, but it's still painful. Like a wound that gets scraped open, so it does not have a chance to heal."

Salomé smiled sadly, glanced at me. "Your words are like a poet." She let out a soft chuckle, but had a genuine and respectful expression on her face. No intention of wanting to ruin the atmosphere that hung in the air between us. "Is there a way that, no matter how intense her leave must have been, you can soften your pain, process your emotions through things you do?"

I shrugged. "Don't know." I tried stopping myself, but I kept spilling. "It went alright, at first. Not great, but.. we managed. It just seems like it's getting worse for some reasons. I've changed, I truly have. In my mind, at least. I know it, I know it so well. But I cannot seem to put it into actions all the time, yet. I just can't, because of the pain. I don't want to lose any more people, but he's hanging on the edge of a cliff and I'm searching for the rope, the time ticking before he cannot hold on anymore and slips away."

Salomé stopped walking, reached for my wrist. For the first time, I actually looked into her eyes and felt nothing but warmth. It pained my heart, I longed for Aurora, yet I longed for Salomé, felt comfortable in Salomé's presence and felt how tiny pieces of ourselves met each other, maybe even without knowing. I gazed at the small freckle that was on the tip of her nose, the tiny clouds of breath mixing together. "I feel like you haven't talked about this much before. But know that I'm here to listen."

"I feel that." Tears collected in the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away before they managed to slip down.

"If it's too much from Davu and Gloria, will you please tell me? I don't want to shove much more burdens upon your already heavy shoulders."

"But I want to help. I truly want to." I admitted, feeling how those words, for some reasons, freed something within me.

Salomé started walking, so I followed. "Do you want to bake? Maybe we can bring it over to the refugee house." She chewed onto her upper lip. "Or.. did that make loose many memories of your wife?"

"It's alright. I have to face that."

"Let's go, then."

When we had arrived at her house, the rain poured heavily from the dark skies. I gazed out of the window, whilst Salomé lit some soft smelling candles and poured us a cup of apple and cinnamon tea. After retrieving the needed materials from the kitchen, the table was set for some cookies.

Salomé brought over some fondant so we could decorate them later. When the dough was kneaded, she separated it in two pieces and handed me one of them.

"This reminds me of when I was younger." I mumbled out, deciding on the autumn theme and making boot shaped cookies, as well as leaves and chestnuts.

"Yeah?" Salomé smiled, reached for the fork I had used, her hair brushing my arm as she leaned over the table. "What about?"

"When my mum baked cookies with my sisters." I smiled at the memory. "They never wanted me to join, because I was young and couldn't shape the cookies very well- thanks to my undeveloped fine motor skills- so I would just grab a piece of the dough, eat two thirds of it, roll some messy balls and press them flat onto the baking tray."

Her smile was warm. "Isn't the smell of cookies in the oven just so nostalgic." She mentioned softly, making hedgehogs out of her dough. "Do you still see your sisters a lot?"

"Barely." I chewed onto my cheek in concentration, shaping the leaf was tough. "Only one made it to my wedding. The last time I saw them was with my father's funeral. Well, only two of them. My eldest sister.. I think I haven't seen her since she left the house."

"That difficult for you?"

"In a way." I looked up at her and reached for my tea. "I was young, I didn't understand the life we were given back then, they understood it a little too well. Our bond had always been complicated. And when some of them didn't want to attend my wedding, admire my baby boy when he was born or attend my father's funeral, I figured not all relationships are there to be fixed. We were never close, so I don't see it as a huge loss, but it's still my sister, and despite all the fights and words and deeds that tore us apart, we shared nice memories too."

"Did your wife ever meet them?" I could tell by her voice that she wasn't sure if the question was appropriate, but for some reasons, I felt relieved talking about Aurora.

"Yeah." I sighed. "Yeah, she did. She wasn't the problem- I was the problem."

"Why?"

The pained feeling caught its grip onto my throat. I thought back of that day. And words couldn't seem to leave my mouth anymore.

She noticed, rolled a ball, plucked two thirds off and gave it to me. "Here, eat that. I think the dough is better than the actual cookie."

My lips, unwillingly, but automatically, curled up into a smile, and I stuffed the dough into my mouth. My eyes couldn't meet hers for a split second, I felt timid.

When the cookies were baked and we had decorated them with fondants and glazing, we let them cool off completely and stuffed them in a Tupperware box. I felt calm on the way to the refugee home, and wondered if God had heard my prayers, if He had forgiven me. If Aurora had forgiven me.

Salomé and I waited for the door to be opened, as we did so, Salomé's eyes trailed down to my woolen socks with sewed Edelweisses incorporated into it. "I must say.. that your clothings style is something else. Nonetheless, I actually love it."

I let out a chuckle, and wondered why those socks had such a heavy, but once happy memory within it.

•

Zev, Zev, Zev... if only you would speak out your thoughts..

What do you think of him keeping it to himself, still?

Salomé? Do you think she's getting feelings, or Zev is getting feelings? Not at all?

Votes, comments... appreciated xx