Frank comes up to me and comfortably takes place in the same blue chair Sharon sat in just moments ago. Only seconds before now, Sharon unfreezed and walked through the exit, visibly upset.

"What did you say to her?" I ask him while looking straight forward.

Frank has a habit of taking his time before answering. It's like he doesn't feel any shame for letting his partner in conversation waiting. His environment seems, as a result, in contrast to him, subjective or submissive, like he's always in control. I think you're foolish if you think that. But, I've grown to get used to his pauses. "That doesn't matter." He responds calmly. "But what does matter, is you handing out sensitive information to reporters."

I look at him. "Sharon is a reporter?" I'm not sure, but I think he smiled.

"Your friend Sharon," Frank emphasizes her name in a cynical way while holding her recorder up in the air, "is a newly hired reporter of a prestige newspaper company, hoping to make her name with the trending story about the girl who got shot after escaping two attempts of abduction and saving two of her friends in the process." I give him my 'do I look amused?'-look. "Oh, and she apparently took down a mafia or something?" He adds, even more sarcastically, if that's possible.

"Okay, thank you, Frank, I get it. I won't make anymore new friends in the upcoming week."

Frank doesn't react, so we just sit there for several minutes in our comfortable blue chairs, staring at people walking by. But I wonder... "How is it that you just show up all of a sudden?"

With his low voice, he answers calmly. "I was in the neighbourhood."

I inspect the small scratches on my hands I got from struggling on the forest ground a couple of days ago. "I'm not really buying that, Frank."

He sighs lightly. "What is it you want me to say, then?"

I hesitate. "Are you really staying?" I don't know why, but asking him that makes red blushes appear on my cheeks.

Frank stands up from his chair and puts his hands in his suit's pockets. He looks sideways, to something or someone I can't immediately identify in an unknown distance. "I think I will stick around for some time." He walks away.

I shout a goodbye. "Okay bye!" but he had already turned around a corner.

***

It has been a crazy couple of weeks, so I'm glad to pick up school again, like a normal seventeen-year old. Well, eighteen-year old soon enough. Christmas and Newyear have passed and today, I'm going back to school for the first time in what feels an eternity. Things have seemed to slowly go back to normal, after dozens of police officers visiting and questioning me at my house and news reporters 'accidentally' running into me in town. Frank moved out as my dad decided not to go back to China right away, but he occasionally accompanied me to town or at home, when my dad had to work until late, so I wouldn't be alone.

I look at myself in the mirror. Despite my shoulder brace and a couple of still visible bruises here and there, I think I look quite presentable. I have to admit, now the day has arrived, going back to school seems scarier than I had anticipated.

But hey, there are worst things in the world than high school. Right?

As I walk down the stairs, all ready to leave, I run into my dad, drinking his morning coffee in the kitchen. "Good morning, sweetheart. Are you all ready for your big day?"

I place myself on a kitchen stool, behind the counter and start peeling an orange. "Jeez dad, it's not my first day in kindergarten." I comment with a laugh.

He slides a plate with a sandwich over the counter to me. I thankfully start eating my breakfast, but I suspect there is something the matter. My dad is leaning against the opposite kitchen counter, holding a cup of coffee in one hand, the other tucked away in his suit's pocket. He looks down, like he's lost in his thoughts. "Is something wrong?" I ask after I've almost finished half my sandwich.

He looks up and takes a deep sigh. "Things are difficult at the company, kiddo, with all the new transfers we had to make." He takes his hand out of his pocket and waves with it. "It's complicated."

I nod. I can imagine that the latest unfortunate events have had a negative impact on my dad's career. He would never tell me that, of course, being as he is, but I'm smart enough to figure it out myself. "What are you going to do? Can I help, maybe?"

He shakes his head. "No, sweetheart, don't worry about it."

I continue eating the last bits of my sandwich.

"Although," he pauses for a couple of seconds and he takes a deep breath, as he is preparing to dive into a pool, "would you mind very much if I worked some overtime?" He places his empty cup on the kitchen counter. "I understand if that's too much to ask."

I think it over for a second, but the truth is, I had my answer ready the moment he asked. "Of course I don't mind. I feel fine, truly. I feel like I'm beginning a new chapter in my life, like I can start over. I'm not afraid anymore."

He looks visibly relieved. "That's great, honey." He looks at his watch. "I have to go now." He gives me a kiss on my forehead. "Have a great day at school and don't wait up for me this evening." Finally, he grabs a couple of files and heads for the door. I hear it open, and before it shuts behind my father's back, he shouts: "Giselle, your car is here!"

"Okay, thanks dad, have a good day!" And so I hear the door shut. I quickly pack my bag and make myself ready to leave. As long as I've lived here, I've had a driver that would drive me to school and back home everyday. My second driver, George, has been driving me to school mostly. I wonder how he has been, I haven't seen him in quite a while. I think when I lock the front door. I open the door of the black car and take a seat in the back while I ask: "Hello, George. How has Martha been doing?" I settle myself in the comfortable back seat.

"I don't know, you should really ask George himself."

I look up. "Frank?"

He nods to say goodmorning while making eye contact in the rearview mirror.

"What are you doing here?"

Frank starts the engine with an almost invisible grin. "Put on your seatbelt."