Today started off normal, you know?

　　Today was going to be just another annoyingly bright Monday morning, where I would rush to the daycare, and then I would rush to work.

　　I was simply supposed to take a seat in my office chair, sigh, and get on for the day.

　　But as soon as my feet stepped inside those doors to my office, my hands became shaky and my coffee was suddenly all over the floor.

　　My breathing was unstable, my heart rate skyrocketing, my hands . . . cold.

　　“Nice to see you too Dej.”

　　“Xavi.”

　　#

　　“What do you mean he’s back?!” My sister Yamia shrieks and I rub my forehead. Right now I wanted nothing more than to rip this damn wig off, and feel the breeze in my scalp because I am telling you everything felt tight and hot.

　　“He’s back Mia. This morning I walked into my office, and he was just sitting there on my desk with his stupid ass smirk.”

　　“But I thou-"

　　“Me too,” I shut my eyes and gulp. “He’s going to kill me.”

　　“Don’t say that sis, don’t say that.” I could tell by the way her voice faltered, that she was also uncertain.

　　You ever want to look the devil in the face? Just find Xavi, oh wait, you can’t find him! He finds you, and you don’t ever want that to happen.

　　“Deja!”

　　I jumped slightly, staring at my sister who had her jaw clenched.

　　“What did he tell you?”

　　“Uh . . . um just that . . .  he said he missed me.”

　　“Huh?”

　　“He’s playing with me, obviously.”

　　“How did he even find you?” She runs a hand through her curls before taking a deep breath.

　　“Okay, okay, we’ll figure this out, we’ll move.”

　　“We don’t have the money to just up and move right now.” I tell her and she violently tugs at her hair.

　　“What the hell does he want?! It’s been five years already dammit!”

　　“I don’t know but you’re not getting involved.”

　　“Oh I’m already involved.”

　　“No,” I stand to grab her shoulders. Thankfully, I was taller than my older sister.

　　“Yamia . . . this is my issue, my problem, and I’m gonna get it solved.”

　　“What if he kills you?” She whispers and I shake my head.

　　Right now I didn’t have the answer for that, and I didn’t want to find out either.

　　#

　　“Hey baby boy.” My favorite part of the day, was always when I got to see Rumi’s face. My two year old son happily makes his way towards me and I lift him off the ground. I grab his snack bag since the other’s seemed to have their hands full before waving and heading out to my car.

　　“How was your day? Huh?” As usual he just completely ignores his mother and idly plays with my hair.

　　“Right.”

　　I place him into the car seat, before climbing in myself and driving off.

　　The entire ride back home I kept staring at Rumi through the mirror, I just couldn’t help it. What would happen to him? Would Murder go after him too? Or was it just me?

　　Who was I kidding?

　　My hands tighten against the steering wheel and I swallowed hard, tears filling up my eyes.

　　The image of Murder being hauled from the courtroom, and into the back where they’d drop him off to prison replayed in my mind. The look he gave me was chilling, the look that was filled with nothing . . . nothing but revenge.

　　I knew in the back of my mind that he’d get out, but I just . . .  I thought that maybe, just maybe he’d say in longer, or he wouldn’t find me. But who was I kidding?

　　Now my life is literally in the palms of his hands  . . .  and I’m pretty sure it’s not just mine.