The Eagle Comes Home at Last

I watched a slender figure hurry across the lawn towards the garage, swallowed by the darkness. Her floor-length, snow-white lace gown clung softly to her body. One hand gathered the hem while the other let a pair of high heels dangle at her side. She had already freed her red hair from the captivity of her hairpins, and it now cascaded down her back, almost reaching her waist. Music and laughter drifted from the neighbouring villa. Less than two minutes ago, she’d been there too, yet not the slightest trace of joy could be detected on her.

Her shoulders were hunched, her head lowered, as though she were trying to remain as invisible as possible. Once inside the garage, she flicked on the light and walked past the boxes overflowing with forgotten odds and ends.

I knew where she was going.

To the place where she used to hide as a child, before everything fell apart.

Perhaps the bunker built beneath the old workbench in the corner of the garage was the only place left that reminded her of her old self. As a little girl, she had spent weeks crafting and painting it with her father. Back then, we thought they were building the safest place in the world for her. If only it had been.

I stepped out from behind the wall and followed her in silence.

I noticed that a strand of cobwebs had caught on the hem of the delicate lace, the very dress I had custom-made for her for Michael’s dinner party. If things had turned out differently, I would have held her tight at the party and whispered in her ear how beautiful she looked. I might have even teased her about the boys, while shielding her from every curious glance. We would have laughed together. But I no longer knew how to touch her without frightening her. It hurt to watch her tense up every time I came too close.

She was anxious. It was dark outside, and Ana did not like the dark. I took a deep breath, stepped into the garage, and switched off the light.

While waiting for my eyes to adjust, I listened to Ana’s increasingly rapid breathing. I hesitated for a moment when her silhouette finally came into focus. She was hunched forward, one hand braced on her knee, the other clutching the fabric of the dress tightly against her chest. She was struggling to breathe.

’Don’t…’ she whispered. ’Someone… someone turn on the light!’

She tried to move towards the light switch, but her foot struck something, and she stumbled to a halt. Fear was beginning to take hold of her. For a moment, my throat tightened.

’Ana,’ I called, trying to draw her attention to me.

’Mum?’ There was relief in her voice. ’Mum, please, turn on the light,’ she pleaded, her voice thin and fragile.

Shame washed over me. I swallowed hard. I couldn’t give in.

’Ana, there is nothing wrong. Calm down, and let us just stay like this for a little while.’

’What?! No! Mum, turn on the light!’ Now there was pure panic in her voice.

Slowly, I began to walk towards her. I wanted to tell her that she did not have to go through this alone. That I was right here beside her. But before I could reach her, terror completely overwhelmed her. She sank to her knees, clasped her head in her hands, and began to scream.

I rushed over and pulled her into my arms.

’Ana, sweetheart, I’m here. You’re safe. Ssshh…’

I held her tightly, rocking her back and forth like I used to when she had a fever as a little girl. I whispered soothing words into her hair, but my voice was swallowed by her screams. Nothing reached her. She was trembling and sobbing. I could feel her tears soaking through my clothes, a sense of helpless rage swelling in my chest. It was too soon. I had not given her enough time.

Suddenly, light flooded the garage. The switch being flipped blinded me for a moment. I turned towards the door, expecting George. He would be angry, but he would know how to calm Ana. And then everything would be fine again.

But it was not George standing in the doorway. I stared in utter shock at a strange girl.

Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she wore simple black jeans and a t-shirt, paired with combat boots. She was young, could not have been any older than Ana. Yet an aura of strength radiated from her that didn’t belong to someone her age. She did not look at me; her eyes were fixed on Ana in my arms. For a fraction of a second, something resembling sadness flickered in her eyes.

’Eagle, return home.’ Her voice was firm. Commanding.

Ana fell silent instantly, her body relaxing. An oppressive silence settled over us. With every fibre of my being, I focused on Ana.

’My darling, I am so, so sorry,’ I repeated over and over. ’Open your eyes. Please, look at me.’

But she remained motionless, her eyes still closed, only breathing slowly, deeply. Her eyes darted rapidly beneath her eyelids, as though she were seeing something. My heart pounded violently in my chest. A strange unease crept over me. Ana was still in my arms. I could feel the warmth of her body… and yet it felt as if she was drifting further and further away.

’Ana!’ I shook her gently.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally opened her eyes and looked at me. Moss-green eyes scanned my face as if seeing it for the first time. I had looked into those eyes countless times. I would recognise them anywhere and at any time, but now… I couldn’t find my daughter in them. They were empty. Lifeless.

Ana slipped out of my arms without a word, stood up, and walked towards the stranger. When she reached her, to my absolute astonishment, the girl saluted her.

’Captain.’

’At ease,’ Ana permitted.

The girl lowered her hand. A faint, peculiar smile touched her lips.

’Welcome home.’

Ana gave a slight nod.

’The others?’ she asked.

’Two are still lost. Luca and Matthew died during the extraction. The remaining eight…’ She looked at me as if unsure whether she should continue. Whatever she saw on my face must have convinced her that I posed no threat, because she went on: ’They’re already waiting for you.’

When Ana finally looked at me, her gaze drained all the blood from my face. There was indifference in her eyes — the kind you use to assess a stranger on the street. She was standing only a few steps away, yet I felt it with absolute certainty: I had lost the daughter I once knew.

Something about her posture was wrong. Military.

Every fibre of my being screamed at me to step towards her and shake her, to bring her to her senses… but my legs refused to obey. I stood there helplessly, listening to words that made no sense, as if I were watching a nightmare performed in a foreign language.

’Tend to her injuries,’ Ana nodded in my direction. ’I am going to meet the others.’

Injuries? What injuries? But as I touched my face, I felt it throbbing. Ana must have struck me during her episode.

’Understood, Captain,’ the stranger replied, looking at me.

A knot tightened in my stomach. This girl’s gaze was just as lifeless and glassy as my daughter’s had been moments ago. Before I could even come to my senses, Ana walked away from me without looking back even once. She vanished into the darkness — the same darkness she had just panicked over, all because I had switched off the light.