When the birds stopped chirping

29. Near The End

Ludovic took a closer look at me, blemishing,

"It can't... it can't be true!" he accused. "Don't you insult Miyoko's name!"

"What if I wasn't lying?"

"She'd never have yielded her pride, you hear me?" he screamed as he vehemently pushed me away from him, infuriated. "Unlike you!" he spat.

Overhearing our argument, the residents' majority stopped whatever they were doing. Miyoko's name caught their interest. Whispers sprang up among former comrades-in-arms who eyed on me over their shoulders. The disappearance of Miyoko Ozuka better known as Yoko Ozumaki remained a mystery told in urban legends, imprinted in their memories.

Nobody had forgotten how the mass media depicted her as a shameless criminal who went helplessly against the system. Their glares upon me hurt like knives. Ludovic as for him turned his back on me deliberately,

"You're not welcome here, don't you think? Please, just go away. And don't ever show up again before me!"

I complied. Brusquely, as he was about to catch some shuteye, it looked like his self-righteous armour crumbled down all of a sudden. Any smile faded on his face.

"Have you ever felt it too?" he asked. "Of course, not... The pain of losing a loved one, I mean, shamed by the Party in power as exemplar!"

A deadly silence weighed on the assembly.

"She was one of a kind, having endured so much pain and sorrow, and yet she kept living on when really, she had no more reason to live," he reminisced. "I praised her strength. She was strong-headed, independent, cheerful. She could have become a marvellous painter. Her life experience taught her that nothing was a given.

"She was a respectable and respected member of the new angst art community. In her eyes, to let the Party oppress its citizens was unthinkable. She was that committed to acting for the greater good. The news of her arrest was devastating for everyone involved. What happened to her? Only God knows."

"Even she must have had weaknesses... "

"She would never have contracted with the Party, that's for sure. That's why I won't ever let anyone speak ill of her."

Overpowered, I could feel Ludovic's despair in the way he talked about my past self. It pained me to admit it would be pointless to reconcile only now. Two decades later, I was a ghost of myself, a life taken away too early; I had lost everything that mattered most to me. There was no point in revealing him my identity, which would put him through even deeper suffering. He needed not to go through that mental strain again

"Her name was Petra."

I startled, hearing Livingston's voice from behind me. Livingston stepped up by my side, interposing himself between us. He looked oddly composed. He retold to Ludovic, "Koji Sullivan took pity in that woman whose identity had been erased from existence. To make up for the Ministry's misguided idea of justice, he bargained to get her out of the death corridor."

"What's your point? Why do you defend that forlorn individual?" Ludovic questioned.

"Like a predator chases down its prey... like the lion rules almighty over the jungle, Koji Sullivan forced her into joining his side by profiting of her greatest weakness. The dice were loaded, but she obeyed forcefully."

"That's even more outrageous!"

"She owed a lot to him. Thus, explaining why, she later became someone else entirely. This is the sad truth behind the Ministry's evil scheme of things."

Overhearing our conversation, everybody held their breaths, eyeing on me with a melt of stupefaction and indignation. Livingston's speech shed a new light on the Ministry's true face, though the Party's unorthodox methods of dealing with its staunchest opposition was no news for them. Ludovic's eyebrows furrowed menacingly as he looked hard at Livingston, then at me, gauging me up and down with contempt,