Mark Del Franco - Face Off

“That won’t be necessary,” Laura said.

On the sidewalk in front of the Guildhouse, she paused. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. The warmth felt good on her skin. She filtered out the traffic noise and focused on the soft sounds of the birds across the street. She could shut things out. She could do it. She had thought she could, but she hadn’t given herself a reason to in a long time.

She opened her eyes, the whir of the city reasserting itself around her. She strode up the sidewalk to where a black car waited. The driver opened the door, and she slid into the backseat. As they pulled away from the curb, she opened her cell phone.

“It’s me,” she said, when Jono answered.

“Who you?” She heard the smile in his voice.

She watched the decimated Mall slip past the window. “Just me. How’d you like to pack your bags and go away with me for the weekend?”

“I’d like that very much,” he said.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said.

She disconnected the call and settled back in the seat. She had done it, said her piece no matter the consequences. She had been honest about what she thought with people who didn’t want to hear. A sense of calm satisfaction spread over her, and she smiled. Then she laughed, anxious to see Sinclair.