CHAPTER 187

KATHERINE WAS WRAPPED UP in blankets alone, escaping the cold that had reached the city in those days of the last bit of winter. It was already dawn, past three in the morning and she couldn't sleep. Her mind wandered with all kinds of thoughts that would lead her to Tommy.

With the television on in front of him, he tried to figure out what had happened and why Tommy hadn't answered the phone since lunch the day before. The news was coming back from a break, after a long period of commenting on national security and the protests of the population regarding the President's inactivity, and would soon talk about his meeting with the UN Security Council.

Bored, she rummaged through the books piled up on the nightstand next to her bed and pulled out one that was crooked, at odds with its methodical and symmetrical arrangement. Sense and Sensibility was a title she had wanted to reread for a long time, but had been unable to.

She opened the book and began to leaf through it, until she noticed that a small piece of paper fell from its pages onto her blanket. She caught it before it flew away and, curiously, noticed that the handwriting of her writing was similar to Tommy's scribbles, but with a little more care when writing.

Tommy ?

She asked herself, surprised. Before reading the short text, however, she was surprised by the beginning of the news about the summit meeting. The news anchors were stunned, white-faced and having difficulty reporting the news. The man began to speak:

"Today marks the beginning of a dark day in the history of the United States, " he said, trying not to stutter. " A sad episode that repeats itself in our history. Today, at three fifteen minutes past nine in the morning in Geneva, FBI Inspector General Floyd Kenagan, who was with President Kenan Vaine, was on his way to the United Nations summit when he was shot in the chest..."

Katherine stared at the television, unable to believe what she was hearing at that moment.

What about Tommy?

What happened to him?

The journalist continued.

"Unfortunately, there was no time to receive medical treatment and the Inspector General did not survive. Other deaths have already been confirmed, and we will soon have the correct names to inform you..."

Even before the news story ended and she could find out more details, tears were already welling up in her eyes. It wasn't pessimism, but she knew that soon she would hear her husband's name mentioned in the next news story. He was one of the other officers who had become victims.

In the television coverage, Floyd Kenagan's photo was displayed, with the national flag in the background, in a quick and well-produced tribute. News of his life and presidential works were narrated, but she, in a state of shock, no longer paid attention to what was being said. She only held, trembling, the small paper cutout with her beloved's letters.

When he felt able, he tried to read. In the corner of the paper there was a scribble, just like when testing the charge of a pen. The first few letters were out of place, perhaps because he had written the passage before scribbling it down properly, with the ink dry. The text was as follows:

"Hi Katy. I don't know when you'll read it. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you, but without waking you up. I know we're a little distant, but I'm going to change that. I don't want my bad decisions to ruin our lives, so I'm willing to drop everything and start over. Forgive me for this. All I want is to see you well. With love, Tommy..."

The reading was followed by sobs and copious tears. The anger she felt when she remembered that he had decided to go had already passed and everything had just become a strong longing, mixed with other emotions that danced among themselves inside her chest. It was hard to be so sure that she had lost him, but her heart seemed to want to prepare her to have no hope.

Nothing would be the same again...

Nothing would be more...