Who Am I

Midnight

Cool air brushed against Lotte's face. The dark apartment was illuminated by the lights of the city. Cars honked noisily beneath, as though it were midday. Lotte frowned at the antique clock.

12:00

Knock.

Nikita sauntered in, hands on hips as she looked around.

"Cora has a lovely home. Will she be here tonight?" Lotte tilted her head.

"It shouldn't matter." She smiled.

"It really shouldn't. Well, it's good to know she's in the structure she calls a mansion on the other side of town. With Ivan and Antione."

"He is your ex?"

"And where is your's?" Lotte's face darkened.

"Italy."

"See? We keep tabs on our ex. It's an instinctual thing."

"I follow him on Instagram."

"Now I. Did not know that." Lotte's eyebrow raised. "Oh, don't give me that look. I never even considered you to be a person with social media. I thought you were one of those tech hermits who refused to so much as look at a Facebook ad."

"Why did you ask for me?"

"Didn't you want answers?"

"You didn't answer the question."

"I did though, didn't I?"

"Why did you not want Antione?"

"Why did Matteo break up with you?" Nikita walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a drink. She threw it back, nose wrinkling.

"Why did you fake your deaths?"

"You already know."

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing necessarily related, no."

"Who killed your father?"

"Jason's, of course. But he doesn't know it."

"What happened to his father?"

"He disappeared."

"You didn't kidnap him?"

"Why should I?"

"Why did you go off the grid?"

"Because. I died. Theoretically."

"Why so long?"

"I'm not going to high school when I look like a recently deceased girl."

"You changed?"

"You never noticed?"

"You look exactly like when you were younger."

"Not quite." She pointed to her spine. "They replaced my spine with a iron rod. Two of my ribs were removed and in an X-ray, you can see my neck bones aren't quite right."

"This happened in two years?"

"No. Just my neck."

"Why would you inflict so many injuries on yourself?"

"They were a given."

"You're obsessed."

"You would be too. Any more questions?"

"Why did you frame Jason?"

"Why, Lotte.... I never did." She stood, hand skimming the marble countertop. She lightly leaned against the mahogany walls. "Don't believe what anyone says."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Why do you believe Jason?" She opened her mouth. "A gut feeling. In psychology, a gut feeling is about as reliable as a judge giving the love of her life his sentence. It is as much of an illusion as the concept of true love." Nikita slowly walked to the balcony. "What a lovely night," she murmured. She closed her eyes, body collapsing.

Lotte glanced at the drink. Then at Nikita. She frowned as she warily approached her.

A black shape shot down, grabbing Nikita. Nikita hung loosely, head lolling. Lotte brought out her gun.

Bang!

As if it were an everyday occurence, the figure dodged. Nikita blinked her eyes sleepily up at the figure. She grabbed with strong fingers his mask.

Lotte took a step back.

Matteo blinked at her.