The Right Path

Chapter Four


(FLASHBACK)
“Louisa honey…come sit with mama.” Jane Miller wept openly, salty tears rolling down her pale cheeks in long elegant lines. Louisa stumpy little legs carried her down the long white corridor; she took firm hold of her mother’s outstretched hand, jumping up on to her warm lap and nuzzling her little body into the heat of her mother’s chest. The doctors in surgical greens behind Jane bowed their heads in reverence and took a step back; in total silence they allowed Jane to address her daughter as they removed their protective masks from their faces.

“Why are you cryin’ mama?” Louisa asked gently, her voice muffled slightly by her mother’s overcoat against her mouth. Louisa’s tiny heart was wrenching at the sight of her usually tall, proud mother weeping so openly before her. It made her want to cry too, she felt her eyes begin to tingle as tears tried to form. But something deep down inside told her she had to be strong for her mama; that she couldn’t cry or she might upset the one she loved dearly even more.

Jane choked back a dry sob somewhere in her throat. With her free hand she wiped away the tears that were staining her face with a man’s handkerchief. Her other hand clutched her little girl even more ferociously to her chest. Jane buried her nose into Louisa’s shock of fiery red curls that crowned her head and inhaled deeply, taking in her daughter’s warm and reassuring smell; patchouli and violets. After a few moments of trying to compose herself; Jane pulled back a few inches and looked Louisa dead in the eye.

“Now Louisa, I have something to tell you, something very sad.” The older woman paused, her composure failing her; she spoke again but softer this time. “You understand that papa wasn’t well didn’t you? That he was very ill?”

Louisa nodded. “Yes mama, the doctors said he had broken his heart.” The little girl’s memory was very good; she recollected everything the nice doctor in the long white coat had told her that day. Louisa remembered feeling very scared when she was told that her papa was ill; she wondered why his heart had broken and what had caused it, she hoped she hadn’t done something wrong again. But her fears subsided a little when the nice lady doctor told her that she could make him all better again.

Jane wept silently once more, her composure seriously faltering, her mournful tears resuming their path from her bloodshot eyes down towards her chiselled chin. They glistened in the unnatural fluorescent strip lights of the sterile hospital, before falling on to the lapels of her grey herringbone coat.

“That’s right baby, he had broken his heart and he was feeling very poorly.” Louisa listened intently, her pale eyes glaring ferociously at her mothers damp face. She immediately picked up on her mother’s use of the word ‘was’ instead of ‘is’. Even at such a young age, she knew this was wrong and that things weren’t as they should be. Her brain was taken over by a heavy sense of uncertainty; Louisa knew her mama wouldn’t ever lie to her, but she knew that her papa was going to get better…he just had to. He was a strong man; he could pick her up with just one arm and swing her onto his broad shoulders as she laughed and giggled wildly. He could push her higher on the swings than anyone else ever could, so high she thought she could touch the clouds. Her papa could fix anything that was ever broken; he made her pink bike brand new again after she bust the handle bars. Little Louisa didn’t want to believe that her precious papa was that ill.

“Well…the doctors here tried to look after him; they gave him lots of medicines to make him better.” More tears rolled down Jane’s face. Louisa suddenly noticed that her mother had seemed to age in an instant, like time had suddenly caught up with her. Her mother’s regular peachy, smiley face had vanished and was replaced with an ashen and sunken look, telltale lines of grief and sorrow were etched around her glassy eyes and on her forehead. Louisa knew that something was very wrong.

“They tried the best they could honey, they tried to fix his broken heart, but they couldn’t. Papa’s heart was very badly damaged and the doctors couldn’t save it…” Jane broke down in tears once more, unable to contain the flood of water that now gushed forth from her eyes. She sobbed openly and with abandon. Louisa hated seeing her mama so sad, she wished she could help, she longed to take away her pain.

The little red haired girl felt a great sense of sadness wash over her as she listened to her mama’s sad words. She knew something was very wrong as her mama was beginning to talk about her beloved papa in past tense. She knew this wasn’t right, she had learned a little about it in school a few weeks ago, she knew her mama was talking all wrong. But despite what her little brain was telling her, Louisa couldn’t shake the rising wave of unhappiness that was beginning to grow stronger. She felt worried and confused, she knew what this all meant but didn’t want to voice her sadness for fear of it being real. She had to know though; she had to find out if what she thought was really true, or was her mind just playing cruel tricks again like it did in the darkness of her bedroom at night when she saw monsters.

“Papa is in heaven…isn’t he mama? He’s with grandmamma and all the other angels…isn’t he?” Louisa whispered, her voice carried lightly on the deftest of exhalations.

“Yes baby, he is…papa is in heaven now.” Jane nodded.

Louisa sat very still and listened to what her mama had just told her. Her little brain soaked up the wealth of information she had just learned and held onto it as tightly as it could without it aching. Her brain was like a tangle of knotted spaghetti, nothing made any sense and all her thoughts were jumbled around. They danced in and out of her head, popping up like a firecracker then disappearing just as fast as they arrived. But despite all the chaos in her brain, one thing remained constant. Her mother’s words replayed over and over and over. Like a cassette player stuck on a continuous loop, just absently repeating the same hideous words over again.

Louisa felt tears welling in her eyes; they were hot, they burned and stung like the time she rubbed fresh squeezed lemon juice in them by accident. She tried to be strong and not cry in front of her sad mama, but she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t stop the tears. Her pouting bottom lip quivered and trembled for a few seconds as the tears she was clinging to, began to trickle down her chubby little face. Louisa sucked in a small gasp of cool air then exhaled in a loud and painful wail. All her sadness and grief poured from her slick little mouth in an extended range of shrill decibels. Straight away, Louisa felt strong arms wrap around shaking frame even tighter, as a mother and daughter wept together over the loss of a much loved husband and father.

Louisa had never felt pain like this before in her whole short life. The sense of loss, even at such a tender age, was completely overwhelming and totally unbearable. She couldn’t understand why the doctors couldn’t fix her papa. They fixed other people all the time, why couldn’t they fix her beloved papa? She knew he had a broken heart, but the doctors had told her they could mend it, they would give him some special medicine and he’d be okay again.

She couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t see her papa ever again. He’d never again be able to read to her bedtime stories of faraway lands, or buy her fluffy pink candy floss, or teach her how to fish for shimmering silver sprats in their little stream out the back of the house. So many things that he would never again share with her, so many things he would never get to see her do. Her mind was struggling to comprehend the whys and wherefores of his pointless demise, too busy centring all its energy on the excruciating pain that was rising inside her now. She felt sick to her stomach, like her insides were burning and like her heart was being cut from her chest with a pair of dull plastic safety scissors. She felt as if she were being choked to death by her own grief and tears.

After a few moments, Louisa sensed a feeling deep inside her. It was small and insignificant at first, it ran along side her grief and pain. But as the seconds passed by, the sensation became stronger and much more noticeable.

She couldn’t say exactly what the feeling was; it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She felt strangely excited and exhilarated all at once; although she knew that feeling so at such a time was very wrong, but she couldn’t help it. It felt like her entire body was vibrating, like every inch of her skin was tingling and buzzing. It was as if someone was passing a strong electrical current just below her skin, it crackled and fizzed quite violently. Louisa let a slight whimper of glee escape her little lips as the unnatural phenomenon took over her body. She threw her head to look up at her mama to see if she could feel the vibrating too, but her mama hadn’t seemed to have noticed at all. Louisa pushed back all the pain and sorrow deep in her mind and instinctively concentrated on the feeling that was expanding inside her. She focused all her energy on it, directing all her thoughts on to this bizarre occurrence. It grew and inflated inside her, like helium filling a rubber balloon; the vibrating becoming stronger and much more intense with each passing second. It felt as if a thousand hands were tickling her all over her body, like all her skin was as ticklish as her feet! Her body quivered and prickled silently, unnoticed by everyone but Louisa. The sensation grew to such an extent that she thought she might burst into flames or explode from the immense pressure terrorising her young body.

Suddenly, everything in Louisa’s world fell deathly quiet. An eerie silence filled her ears and she could hear nothing, it felt as though all of her sense of sound had been suspended. Her mothers heaving dry sobs had vanished, the bustle and commotion of the busy hospital had ceased and even Louisa’s own steady heartbeat had hushed to an inaudible thump in her chest. Casting her eyes around her, Louisa could see lips moving, but heard nothing. Around her machines flashed and vibrated, but she heard not a single echo of sound. The silence of her mind was deafening and thrilling.

And then came this next thing. A dull and distant rumble at first far in the back of her mind, then it grew to become the most intense pounding Louisa had ever heard. The sound seemed to not only fill her ears, but all her senses; it throbbed in her lips, in her fingers, in her temples…in her very veins that glimmered blue beneath her pale skin. It grew louder and louder, as if it were trying to reach some terrible and climatic crescendo in her mind.

Then within a nano-second, the pounding ceased and a violent shockwave ripped through her fragile body and blasted Louisa three feet clean from the warmth of her mother’s lap. All other sound and noise rushed back into Louisa’s ears, like fallout from a nuclear explosion. A mushroom cloud of sounds overloaded her senses, raining down in a shower of beeps, ticking and sobs. It felt as if she was hearing things for the very first time, like sound had evaded her all her short life. Everything that filled her ears was crystal clear and amplified ten times their normal range.

The sensation was unlike anything that Louisa had ever experienced before. Residual tremors of the shockwave coursed through her body and out of the ends of her fingers and toes. The feeling she was left with was one of profound peace and harmony, something completely out of this realm of any human understanding. A warm glow filled Louisa’s mind; like embers from a dying fire, it smouldered deep inside her head. It felt as if a tidal wave of unimaginable internal force was massaging her little brain and pushing back all her grief, pain and sorrow. She could feel every ounce of mourning she had previously felt drain from her mind; it slid from her head in long imaginary silver trails, twinkling as they vanished into the ether.

Louisa felt completely calm again.

(END FLASHBACK)
**********

It had been many years since Louisa Miller felt her first empathic and emotional blast, but over time she had come to understand her ability well. She knew the limits of her gift and rarely pushed them, preferring to keep them at level she felt comfortable with. It had taken many lengthy attempts and many blasts for her to be able to manage her powers effectively; the bruises and knocks she incurred stood as testament to the difficulty she had endured in controlling her powerful empathic blasts. She also realised at a young age, that along side her empathic blasts, ran the amazing ability to influence people’s mood. She didn’t need to touch them, she required no contact, she simply needed to be within sight of the person she wished to influence. The closer she was the stronger her influence, but even at a distance of one hundred feet, her powers were still remarkably effective. It had taken her longer to master this skill as she found it harder to enter people’s minds without them sensing her presence there. But now she felt comfortable using her powers and commanded them well; they served her needs excellently, using them to her advantage and also in aiding others around her. Louisa understood what her powers meant, not only to herself but to other people too. She saw the value in them and understood their worth and importance. She regarded her ability as a particularly special one, as she had the ability to help people, to enhance and improve their lives if she so desired.

She revered and respected her unique powers in equal measure, and she imagined that those around her would extend the same courtesy. However, this was not the case, and in her youth she had been naïve enough to allow her abilities to be exploited for the gains of others. At twenty-one years of age, Louisa learned the hard way that not everyone had the same respect for her gift as she did.

* * * * * * * * *
(FLASHBACK)

“I’m not doing it any more Ian, it’s totally wrong.” Louisa swung the glass office door firmly shut behind her as she stepped into the air conditioned office of her boss, Ian Veymar. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cigar smoke, old sweat and stale semen. She wrinkled her nose at the sickening thought and pushed the vile images from her mind.

“What are you talking about?” The fat, sleazy executive purred as he punched the number pad of his cell phone with a chubby digit, observing her through the thick lenses of his glasses. His sleek bald head shone as the midday sun crept through the blinds that encircled the expanse of his plush all glass office.

“I know what you’re doing and I don’t want to be a part of it any more!” Louisa said firmly, standing tall, her back as straight as the path in her mind.

“Look Louisa, just get back in there, do your thing and get out…it’s very simple. No one needs to know; you get paid, we gain another company and make millions, everyone’s happy!” Ian tried to laugh, his patience waning as Louisa’s shrill voice went right through him.

“But I’M NOT HAPPY! What you’re making me do is illegal and unethical. What I’m doing it so beyond wrong! You sit me there like some pretty little doll, all smiles and low cut tops and just expect me to mind fuck everyone in there.”

“Not everyone…just the clients sweet cheeks.” Ian corrected her condescendingly.

“I’m not doing it any more; you’ve made enough money out of me.”

Ian rose from his expensive black leather chair swiftly, his sweaty palms crashing down onto the solid oak desk in front of him. Papers and receipts scattered into the air in a flurry of commotion before settling on the carpeted floor. He knocked a half empty cup of black coffee over, the cool java spilling all over his desk. He cursed openly.

“I will not lose out on this deal just because you decided to finally find your conscience, you little bitch. This is a multi-million dollar deal, and there’s way too much a stake to let you fuck it up with your morals and ethics.” Ian seethed at her from behind clenched un-cleaned teeth. He was aware that his pretty little secretary Samantha was sat just outside his office pretending to understand what work she was actually doing; he didn’t want her to hear this conversation. Although she was usually oblivious to the conversations around her, she still had ears and he knew she would pick up on raised voices; he really didn’t want her getting wind of this argument.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. He knew that raising his voice to Louisa would have the opposite effect from the one he desired; she would be much more inclined to flip him off if he was screaming at her.

“We had a deal, Louisa. You do this for me, you get your money pumped direct into your bank account, tax free, no questions asked,” Ian threatened menacingly.

“Then consider the deal off you asshole. I don’t want your goddamn money if it means exploiting innocent clients. They’re already in enough financial hardship as it is, without me manipulating their minds into accepting ridiculously low bids for their companies. Find yourself another deal broker!” Louisa growled low in her throat. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in anger, her face felt white hot and her body was beginning to tremble. Her palms were clammy with rage.

“Do you realise the amount of money you could have made outta this deal? Millions of fucking dollars, you dumb bitch, you could have been farting through silk and wiping your ass with velvet. But not any more…you’re fired. Collect your shit and get the fuck outta my office…you stupid little cunt.” Ian spat as venomously as he could, his rage hitting its peak swiftly. He could find another empath, he had connections. Hell, he might find one that might actually let him fuck her.

Louisa had already begun to head towards the door, her stiletto heels shuffling quietly against the weft of the carpet beneath her feet. She grabbed the cold silver door handle and turned one last time to look at the man that had made her working life completely unbearable. He repulsed her, everything about him screamed tacky, nasty and overpriced.

“Fuck you Ian…I quit.”

(END FLASHBACK)
* * * * * * * *

Louisa had been in her current job for almost three years, and of everything type of employment she had ever had, she adored her current situation more than any of them. She worked full time as a counsellor to the bereaved at her local help-centre, Rose Hope Community Hall; comforting those lost souls who felt that they had no-one else to talk to, no-one else to speak to of their grief. Louisa had experienced first hand the pain of losing a loved one; she knew with her powers she could put them to positive use and give people some temporary respite and relief from the destructive and devastating force of their own grief and sorrow.

She had volunteered at first, in reply to an advert someone had posted in the coffee shop window where she worked. Louisa found plenty of time in her week to help struggling souls whilst juggling her part time job of serving steaming lattes and frothy mochas to greedy investment bankers. But after nearly a year of helping people for free, the centre decided that she was too good at her job to lose her to another centre or hospital. When they offered her a full time job, Louisa practically knocked her boss clean off the ground as she threw her skinny arms around the woman with unbridled glee. The pay was very modest, the days were long and draining and it was to be the complete polar opposite to what she had expected to be doing, having obtained a degree in business management and a masters in international business law.

But it didn’t matter; she absolutely adored her job.

Louisa helped people the best she could. Her employers were aware of her ability, but they never pushed her or encouraged her to use it, they left that to her own discretion. Usually talking to the bereaved would be enough. Simply allowing the grief stricken parent, brother, wife, sibling, a chance to pour out their feelings and woes was normally enough to help them move forward in their mourning. Occasionally some people needed a little more than just words. They needed ‘intervention’ as Louisa called it. She would use her powers to very discreetly manipulate their distress and try turning it into something altogether more positive. She rarely used her empathic blasts at work; they were seldom called for, but she was always ready and on constant stand by if the occasion ever arose.

Her employment with Rose Hope had also afforded Louisa some of her closest and dearest friends. The charming Clarice Langdon, the witty Anne Davenport, the sassy Sandra Reynolds and of course the amazing Christina Bielski. These four girls meant as much to her as any family member ever could. They dined out regularly, went drinking and dancing on a weekend and shopped to the point where none of the girls could walk any further. They had become her family, her life and they meant the world to her.

But of all the friends she had ever made, and all the people she had ever met during her time at Rose Hope, one person she met would change her life forever.

* * * * * * * * *
(FLASHBACK)

Louisa propped herself up against the worktop of the small communal kitchen that was littered with dried up teabags and stained mugs. Behind her the ancient coffee machine hummed and droned quietly as the water began to heat itself; the smell of fresh percolated coffee leaking into the air in long bitter trails.

“By golly that sure smells good!” A voice called from the doorway to the kitchen.

Louisa snapped out of the deep recesses pf her mind and spun round to face the mystery voice. She smiled as she was greeted by the friendliest looking person she had ever laid eyes on.

The woman before her was of a diminutive height and of average weight. She had a shock of bright blonde hair that tumbled in long lazy curls down past her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with the most amazing sapphire colour that Louisa had ever seen, they practically shone. Her complexion radiated, her skin was gleaming. She was dressed in a casual white tee-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, her feet housed in a pair of flat strappy sandals. A set of long brightly coloured beads hung down across her chest, they reminded Louisa of Skittles. The woman looked like she had just come from a beach in California; her style was quite different to the usual conservative day dress of people of the city.

The woman moved forward swiftly, stepping into the warmth of the tiny kitchen. Confidently, she stretched out her arm, offering Louisa a perfectly manicured hand to shake. Louisa smiled heartily and took the woman’s hand, shaking it gently but firmly. The woman seemed to radiate friendship and kindness.

“Hi I’m Louisa Miller, I’m one of the counsellors here.”

“Nice to meet you Louisa, I’m Helena Birddstein…but you can just call me Birdie…everyone else does!”

(END FLASHBACK)
* * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t long after Birdie died that Louisa had her very first encounter with a man named Victor Creed. Of all the things she had left to Louisa after her passing, this was one gift she never wanted.

* * * * * * * * *
(FLASHBACK)

Louisa had been at home they day he had called her; she was spending her first Saturday off in almost three months, redecorating her little kitchen. She was covered in paint; matt eggshell blue splattered in blobs in her hair, on her face and on her overalls. She didn’t mind much, she had the satisfaction of knowing the mess had come from a long and hard days work. Resting the paintbrush in the paint tray next to her, she slipped her lithe body carefully off the counter. Mindful of the numerous paint pots that were scattered across the kitchen, she crossed the few paces of lino floor on her delicate tip toes and turned to admire her handiwork. Taking a sip from a chilled and rapidly condensing glass of chardonnay that lay on the kitchen counter, Louisa stood back and viewed the freshly painted kitchen walls with bright eyes. She had done a very good job; minimal blobbing and her lines were pretty clean cut too, another coat and she would be done.

Just as she raised the glass to her lips for another sip of her wine, the phone in the living room rang; its shrill tone breaking the silence of the little apartment in a flurry of decibels. Louisa swiftly replaced her wine glass onto the countertop and danced over to the pine table by the side of the couch. She raised the cream phone receiver to her paint covered ear and answered merrily.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello?” Louisa called out again, slightly raising her left eyebrow.

Once again there was nothing. No voice, no sound, nothing.

“Hellooo? Is there anybody there?” She sing songed into the phone in her most melodic tone, her voice lingering on the ‘ere’. Suddenly, she he heard life at the end of the phone; a shuffling sound, like a rustling of papers.

“Is that Louisa Miller?” A gruff male voice purred lazily into Louisa’s ear.

“Speaking.”

“Louisa Miller of Rose Hope Community Hall help centre?”

“This is she, who am I speaking to?”

“I was given your number by a friend.” The voice ground out. It was hypnotic; utterly spell bounding.

“A friend? Who? What friend? Do I know her?”

There was some more shuffling in the other end of the phone line.

“Birdie.” The voice bristled into the receiver, his tongue lolling around the fragile name like he was rolling a small ball around his mouth. Louisa paused, unsure of how to answer at first.

“Yeah…yeah I know…sorry…I knew Birdie…she worked with me down at Rose Hope. Sadly she’s not there any more, did you know she had passed away a few months ago?” Louisa hoped to high heaven that she wasn’t breaking some unexpectedly bad news to the man on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, she was a very close…friend of mine, we were extremely close…” They way the man spoke made it sound like Birdie and he could have been partners; maybe even lovers at some point.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t majorly close to her, I just knew her through work, she was a really nice girl, I liked her a lot.”

“Yeah…so did I…” The voice uttered seductively. His words shuddered down the phone and jolted down to the base of Louisa’s spine. She rode his voice as he spoke; his words were as powerful as lightening and just as dangerous.

“Anyway…mister…”

“Creed…Victor Creed.”

“Anyway Mister Creed, can I ask why exactly you are calling me?”

“Birdie left me your phone number and…told me to call you if I ever needed any…help.” The voice on the end of the phone exhaled so deeply that it felt like he was stood over Louisa, breathing down the neck of her tee-shirt. It was like he was in the room with her, over her, under her.

“Yeah? What type of…help?” Louisa frowned deeply, a red flag flashed in the recesses of her mind. She ignored it, allowing it to disappear like steam; she pressed him further

“Not that type so stop worrying…Lou’. She told me to call you if I ever needed anyone to talk to, if I ever needed some kinda…mental help. She had been counselling me for a few months before she died, but we never got to finish our sessions. She told me that if ever I couldn’t get hold of her that I should contact you and that you’d finish…where she…left off so to speak.” The voice poured into Louisa’s ear like molten gold. She shivered as he entered her head.

“What type of counselling were you going through Mister Creed?”

“Please…call me…Victor. I was having a specific type of…counselling.”

“Specific? Specific how?” Louisa found his frequent pauses before words quite unnerving to say the least.

“I had a horrendous childhood, and my adult life hasn’t been too hot either, I keep getting quite disturbing and terrible flashbacks. I’ve dealt with a lot of…erm…deaths in my life. Birdie was…counselling…me through them.”

“Oh right, okay…well it sounds like the type of thing I can help you with. I specialise in bereavement counselling you see, so I might be of some use to you.” Louisa’s voice kicked up an octave, her optimism almost tangible.

“I’m sure you will be…” He voice fired off low and lethal.

“I work every day down town at Rose Hope, from ten till four…just pop in anytime and I’m sure…”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna’ work for me I’m afraid. I just can’t make it to Rose Hope, me and…Birdie used to meet up on the corner of Fifth & Bleaker and we’d take it from there.”

Something akin to a red flag popped up for the second time in Louisa’s mind. Something didn’t feel quite right but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Against her better judgement, she waved it off as silly and childish once again.

“Fifth & Bleaker is quite a way outta town, we might be better if we met somewhere a little more accessible for our first session.” Louisa offered, feeling that it would be a little safer and easier to meet somewhere busier rather than by the docks.

“Please Louisa, that place is much easier for me and I know it so very…well.” The voice was trying to sound reassuring; it was succeeding. Louisa paused for a moment. She knew Birdie pretty well, more through work but they did socialise out of work occasionally. Birdie had an extensive client base, so Louisa reckoned it would only be a while before some of them began to filter through to her. Besides, she highly doubted that Birdie would recommend someone to her that would be harmful; Birdie was sensible and level headed that way, she never got in above her head with anyone.

“Yeah…yeah okay Mister Creed…” Louisa nodded down the phone.

“Victor.” The voice all but growled.

“Okay…Victor…that’s fine. If that’s where you feel comfortable then we’ll meet there. Birdie was a nice girl, I’m sure she’d have spoken highly of you. How are you fixed for sometime next week?”

“No can do, I need to talk to you much sooner than then. How about…tomorrow?”

The question caught Louisa off guard, and she fumbled out an answer.

“Yeah sure, okay then, tomorrow is fine. Say around twelve o’clock?”

“Make it one…”

“That’s fine then, one o’clock on the corner of Fifth & Bleaker. Do you have a contact number, just in case we need to reschedule?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, but I have your number…”

“Er…okay…that’s fine, no worries mist…Victor. So I’ll see you then.”

“That’s great…see you there, Louisa…”

She was about to hang up, but a thought burst into her head just before she replaced the receiver.

“Oh wait! Er…how will I know it’s you Victor?”

“Oh don’t worry, Louisa…I’ll find you…”

(END FLASHBACK)
* * * * * * * * *