Prologue ~
Morning After Dark
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17 years ago
Rain hammered against the windshield as tired wipers dragged across the glass with a rhythmic squeak. Behind the wheel, an elderly woman checked the rear-view mirror where her two grandchildren chatted excitedly, oblivious to the storm outside as she was on her way to drop them off home to their mother.
What a rainy Sunday night?
The rain was only getting worse, so she made a mental note to replace the worn-out wipers tomorrow.
Pulling out of the complex building, her headlights shone as across the road from the complex building was a woman limping covered in dirt.
The old woman's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Her breath caught. Recognition washed the colour from her face, as if she was seeing a ghost from the past.
The old woman would have driven straight past and just dropped the kids off, if her eldest granddaughter hadn't spoken after seeing what her grandmother saw:
"Oemie, that auntie is hurt. Must we help?"
The old grandmother sighed in frustration, secretly cursing her granddaughter's soft heart. For such a young child, she had frighteningly sharp observation skills. She hummed in agreement, "That's right tosisse, Oemie will help the poor auntie." the little girl squealed excitedly bouncing in her seat at the thought of her granny helping a person. The old woman flicked her headlights twice at the limping woman, to get her attention.
Getting out of the car and into the rain, the old woman approached the limping woman. She knew who this lady was, of course she knew. . .briefly checking her surroundings with her hands in her pockets.
"Are you being followed?" the old woman spoke in a gentle voice, but her face was stern. "Ek weet nie Haji, I'm on my way to the police." the old woman looked ahead at the dark road, the police station was far from here in walking distance. The old lady helped the poor woman in the car, watching her groan in pain as she limped into the car and out of the rain. "My kinders titi,"
"Where are they?"
"At home, with him."
"Who is him?"
"My man,"
"Did he do this?"
"Ja, because he didn't like the fact that I didn't want to naai him." the old woman gave the injured woman the side eye, looking at her grandkids in the backseat. The injured woman turned and saw the kids in the back, as a way to say check her language. "Maaf titi,"
"Allah Maaf, it's okay,"
The old woman arrived at the police station, letting the injured Lady lay down on the bench. She arrived at the desk, the officers nudged each other snickering at the old lady in the scarf. "Hello Auntie, how can we help you?" the officer spoke in a sarcastic enthusiastic tone, the old woman narrowed her eyes folding her hands neatly over the desk. "Miss Wednesday, Nineteen-fifty eight. Codename: John Chachos,"
The Police officers immediately sat up straight in a professional manner. One officer froze from reading the newspaper.
Another slowly looked up from their work.
Someone quietly stood.
Someone else whispered to another.
"Is it a child case?" the old woman watched the injured woman who writhed in pain, "She was mine back in the nineties, I found her in Rylands." the officers looked at the woman laying on the bench, then back at the old woman curiously. "Domestic?"
"Domestic," she repeated.
"Kids?" the officer was typing on the desk, searching up information on the victim.
"With the perpetrator," the officer motioned one of his colleagues to get something for the old woman, a few minutes later the other officer came out with a small briefcase. Handing it over to the older woman, "Here you go Miss Wednesday, sorry for the delay."
"No stress, watch my grandkids for me." she took the briefcase blowing kisses at her grandkids, before leaving the station. She walks back into the rain carrying the briefcase, making her way to her car. "Some monsters never fucking learn. . ." she muttered under her breath.
