Chapter 3 - The Language No One Knew She Spoke
Two weeks passed.
Nari's life changed in small ways.
Not enough for her to admit it.
But enough for her to notice.
Her cleaning schedule became lighter.
Someone had repaired her cart.
Her diner manager suddenly stopped yelling at her.
A mysterious payment had appeared in her bank account to cover the exact amount of her overdue rent.
She knew where it came from.
She simply refused to acknowledge it.
Alessio never mentioned the money.
That made it worse.
He was around more often.
Not constantly.
Just enough.
A meeting would happen near the service elevators.
He'd ask whether she'd eaten.
She'd say yes.
He'd know she was lying.
He'd leave food on the table.
She'd pretend she hadn't noticed.
One evening, she found a bowl of soup beside her cleaning cart.
She heard his voice behind her.
"You're terrible at lying."
She turned.
"I never said I was lying."
"You said you'd eaten."
"I did."
"What?"
"Coffee."
He sighed.
"That's not food."
"It has calories."
"That's not the standard."
She smiled.
He stared at her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You were staring."
"At the soup."
"You don't look at people that way."
"I was wondering how soup became intimidating."
He laughed.
The sound startled her.
Because it wasn't the controlled chuckle she had heard before.
It was warm.
Unplanned.
She sat.
He leaned against the wall.
"Why do you keep working here?"
"Because I need money."
"Not enough to explain everything."
She spooned soup.
"You always interrogate people while they eat?"
"Only people who know eight languages."
She looked at him.
"Why are you fascinated?"
"Because I can't figure you out."
Nari smiled faintly.
"Good."
Then the elevator opened.
Mercer stepped out.
He looked tense.
"Alessio."
Alessio straightened.
"What?"
"The Colombian delegation arrived early."
Nari felt her pulse change.
She knew the delegation.
Not personally.
But the language they would use.
Spanish.
Colombian slang.
She had spent two childhood summers in Cartagena.
Mercer looked toward her.
"We don't need—"
"Use her."
Alessio glanced at him.
"Use her for what?"
"She can interpret."
Nari stared.
"I wasn't hired for that."
"No."
"But you're asking me to translate."
"Yes."
"How much?"
Mercer looked shocked.
Alessio smiled.
"How much do you want?"
Nari thought.
"Enough to pay my electricity bill."
"Done."
She almost laughed.
The meeting began.
There were eight delegates.
One spoke formal Spanish.
Another used slang.
A third spoke quickly.
Nari translated all three.
Then the negotiation turned strange.
One delegate switched to Portuguese.
Nari answered in Portuguese.
Then another man switched to German.
Nari answered in German.
Finally, the oldest man at the table said something in an obscure regional dialect.
Nari froze.
She answered anyway.
The man stared.
"How do you know that?"
Nari smiled.
"My mother used to speak it."
The room went silent.
Alessio watched.
After the meeting, he closed the door.
"You're not just fluent."
"No."
"You're trained."
Nari stared at the floor.
"Maybe."
"Who trained you?"
"My mother."
"For what?"
She looked up.
"Survival."
He walked closer.
"Tell me the truth."
"Why?"
"Because somebody sent me your photograph thirteen years ago."
Her face drained.
"What?"
Alessio handed her a photograph.
It showed Nari at fifteen.
Standing beside her mother.
Outside a train station in Prague.
She stared.
"Where did you get this?"
"From an old intelligence file."
"Why?"
"Because the woman beside you wasn't just your mother."
Nari's throat tightened.
"Who was she?"
"An informant."
She stepped back.
"No."
"She worked for an international intelligence network."
Nari shook her head.
"My mother cleaned hotels."
"Before that."
"No."
"She wasn't running from a man."
Nari stopped.
"She was running from a syndicate."
Her breathing quickened.
"Which one?"
Alessio's voice dropped.
"The organization my father used to belong to."
Nari stared.
"You knew my mother?"
"No."
"Then why do you have her photograph?"
"Because someone has been trying to find you for years."
She whispered:
"Who?"
A gunshot shattered the office window.
Alessio moved instantly.
He pulled Nari down.
Glass exploded behind them.
Men rushed into the room.
Mercer shouted.
"Sniper!"
Nari crawled behind the desk.
Alessio crouched beside her.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Stay down."
She listened.
Another shot.
Then another.
Nari tilted her head.
"He's moving."
"Who?"
"The sniper."
"How do you know?"
"The delay."
She listened again.
"He's across the river."
Mercer stared.
"That's impossible."
Nari ignored him.
"He's using an old Soviet rifle."
Alessio looked at her.
"How do you know that?"
"The sound."
She counted.
One.
Two.
Three.
"He's firing from a moving vehicle."
Alessio looked at Mercer.
"Get the bridge locked."
Mercer ran.
Alessio looked back at Nari.
"How did you learn that?"
"My mother."
She whispered.
"She taught me how to recognize weapons by sound."
He stared.
"Nari..."
She closed her eyes.
"I told you."
"What?"
"I wasn't raised like a normal child."
Alessio crouched closer.
"Then how were you raised?"
May you like
She opened her eyes.
"Like a secret."
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