In Love and Diplomacy

Chapter Thirteen: I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

"I made it to the end, I nearly paid the cost
I lost a lot of friends, I sacrificed a lot
I'd do it all again, 'cause I made it to the top
But I can't keep doubting myself anymore
No, no, I can't keep doubting myself, no"

- Mary J. Blige, "Doubt"

Chapter Thirteen

Normally, I'd argue I was already used to subpar sleeping hours. My job had extensive demands, with strict deadlines that kept me awake late into the night and woke me early in the morning. I was familiar with the heavy hold of fatigue, the tension that never dissipated, the sway of caffeine, but I wasn't used to struggling when I did get the chance to rest. As that changed... well, it'd be an understatement to say it made me cranky and overwrought. I felt like an insomniac. To my great chagrin and annoyance, I was seemingly incapable of getting good sleep anywhere but in a moving vehicle.

That night was as rough as every other. I only got a few hours of rest, mostly fitful half-awakenings and startled twitches, before I was left staring at the wall at five in the morning. However, I didn't get out of bed. I was content to remain wrapped in the blanket, a bundle of uncertainty and melancholy while taking in my surroundings. Unlike the other nights, I had a new environment to accept.

At least I had plenty of time to do it.

The main bedroom truly was nice; it was clean and tastefully decorated. Like I'd told Sterling, I hadn't expected a shack on the side of the road, but I also hadn't expected a standalone bathtub and a double sink.

I briefly slunk out of bed to open the curtains, finally able to see the view in the eager morning sun. The tree line was dense, thick with shades of green and arguing wildlife; birds chased and squawked at each other and I watched a squirrel boldly jump from a bough. I marveled at the unapologetic vibrancy of it all.

There was a whimsy that came with a forest like that, one of snails and frogs, mushrooms and magic. It felt as if a spell had been cast over every inch, leaving it untouched by time. I wouldn't have been surprised if every imprint of life could still be found, if every person that'd trekked through its foliage had been left immortalized in their journey. I could imagine figures roaming through the trees. I could believe in seeing figments of history that'd once traveled through on adventures long past. I could imagine a peace that didn't seem possible anywhere else but there.

But 'peace' didn't seem to match the situation I was in.

I wondered how many safehouses Greystone had. Their clientele ranged from politicians to celebrities, and it stood to reason some of the houses were a little nicer. Surely, though, not all of their safehouses were like this one. I assumed there had to be some 'normal' houses for the clientele who weren't rich or famous. Maybe there was a spectrum, I mused, where it went from shacks on the side of the road to larger, more upscale houses. I supposed I hadn't expected to be worthy enough, or in danger enough, for a house like this. I'd thought of myself as more of a 'lower-to-middle scale' kind of person, but I guess Sterling hadn't agreed. Or maybe it hadn't been up to him at all.

Mulling on this, my eyes slid around the room before landing on Rolo. He'd need to go out soon. I had no plans of leaving the house until Sterling was awake, for fear of triggering an alarm or tripwire or something, but Rolo's morning escapade would need to be sooner rather than later.

I was glad Rolo was there. The situation was lonely, but like always, I could count on my dog.

Rolo had been an "I'm just looking" turned "I'm not leaving this building without him" sort of situation. I'd originally been convinced I wouldn't have time for a dog, instead resigning myself to meander through the shelter and volunteer, but one look at him had been enough for me to decide differently. I had decided I'd find time. Hell, in that moment I'd decided I would do anything for that dog.