Artificial Heart

Epilogue

The grief, the worry, was always worse at night. In the quiet. Watching the twinkling stars. Wondering if she was up there—her little sister.

'I hope you're there. I hope you're with him. I hope you're happy. Wherever you are.' Renee took a drink of wine, then put down her glass. A tear ran down her cheek as she stared up at the sky in her lawn chair, hands folded upon her chest.

No matter how cold it had gotten. No matter the sandflies and mosquitos. Renee was outside every night, watching, waiting, hoping, dreaming.

Prisha.

She hadn't been able to get a straight answer from anyone. She didn't know who to ask. The last time she'd seen her sister was at Scott's friends' home. Prisha had been well then, though worried and uncertain, before Scott's two deranged friends kidnapped Renee and imprisoned her in their basement.

She'd protected Prisha. She was proud of that.

They hadn't hurt her. They hadn't even asked her any questions. They'd given her food and there'd been a bed and a toilet—thank God!—and that was all. It was as though they were holding her for something—or someone. Some kind of fucked up cult leader or conspiracy theorist who would torture the right answers out of her.

But they hadn't come.

The police arrived first. Well ... more like a Goddamn SWAT team. Renee had looked above at the sound of shouting and screaming and smashing. Dust spilled down onto her head at the movement of many heavy feet. Then there came the crack of gunfire—or tasers. Renee didn't know the difference. Pop. Pop. Pop.

Then silence—temporarily.

Her rescuers had been fast and furious, slamming through the basement and snatching her away in their arms like she weighed nothing more than the air in their lungs. Then there was sky. Then there was freedom.

They asked if she was okay. If she was hurt.

'Is Prisha okay?' was her first response. 'Did they get Prisha?'

Eight and a half months later and she was still yet to receive an answer.

Renee shivered as she thought back on the whole terrible episode. She'd thought she was going to die. She'd thought she would never see her children again. She'd even blamed Prisha for being such a stupid, over-sexed risk taker. How dare she put Renee in such a predicament!

She still felt bad about. Sometimes she felt awful about it. And now, she had no idea where her little sister was. If she was suffering, happy, alive.

She preferred to hate Scott. He'd come to see her a week after the incident, pale-faced and contrite. Renee had almost slapped him. Then she'd learned he'd lost his job and pity stayed her hand. She'd slammed the door in his face instead.

Things had calmed since that first meeting, particularly with all the news going on in America. They'd managed to become friends, sitting together drinking coffee as they surmised about all that might be going on. There was no real evidence to suggest that it had anything to do with Prisha, but Scott and Renee knew better.

Rumours of a huge man in a cloak with a ravaged face. A woman that could leap buildings. Government involvement. Cover ups. Conspiracies. Car crashes and helicopters. People had phones; there had been so much footage. Scattered though it all was.

Now, eight months later, things were different. She hadn't seen Scott for several weeks. All the news had died down. Any conspiracies were slowly fading back into the nothing.

The world was forgetting Prisha and Alf.

Renee never would.

Another tear ran down her cheek which she quickly wiped away.