River:
What is the most important thing we hold dear? Some would argue its their peace of mind, ethics, credos and principles. If we don't really approve of ourselves - if we don't live by what we believe in - then have to eternally live with someone we dislike - and their face will show up every time we corner a mirror. As I look to my reflection I ask it which version of it can I more comfortably eternally live with: The criminal or the abandoner. When it is all said and done. What will matter more? My niece, myself or the man that made my inner child feel safe again. I can't seem to be able to keep them all, and I already risked it all choosing my niece. I could, however, confess. In theory, I could still back down by confessing - but then she would die, and I would likely be forever persecuted by shadows: Heathens, hired killers. Why did I do this. I could feel myself start to turn back on my decision and in my reflection I now started to see a coward. An unstable, conflicted being without the strength to follow through with the price of her decision.
I burnt the letter: contain the red passenger. I decided that I would first learn what the red passenger was - decide only then if it was better to confess. I wanted to tell Malcolm - I really did. So I did the next best emotional irrational thing. I went look for him - pick him off from work when he was done. I needed the levity.
Malcolm looked at Jonas.
'Did you already decide on the kid?' he asked.
'he is not a kid' corrected him Jonas.
'He is for me'
Jonas shrunk his shoulders. 'I mean, I think so. We've been looking for someone to hire for a while. Do you approve?'
'I guess'
'You guess?'
'I do' answered played with the flicker of a cigaret lighter in his hands. 'Look, I'm not convinced with this guy. I can tell he'll put more hours than he should, but I don't think he has good intuition - and he is certainly not the most eloquent. I want a good headed employee, not a slave.'
'You shouldn't smoke here' said Jonas, looking at the lighter in his hands.
'I haven't lit anything. Its just a fidget' he answered.
Jonas rolled his eyes. 'I don't have the energy to enter into a discussion with you right now, but I disagree.'
Malcolm smiled at that. He always liked that Jonas stood his ground. 'That's fair. Would you rather discuss it when you do have the energy?'
Jonas felt compelled at that. They were not about to postpone such light conversation. 'You do know I sold news papers in the street to support my family as I grew up don't you?'
Malcolms eyes soften then.
'I would have gladly being the so called slave that you would have rejected because you think neglecting yourself for overworking is a bad thing.'
'neglecting yourself for overworking is a bad thing' stated Malcolm.
They were both quiet then.
Malcolm flicker the lighter in his hands a couple of times more. Trying to find the words. 'I want someone outspoken and sharp witted with a backbone and a good self-esteem'. He said. If you can find that, I'll back you up. Even if you think this kid is the best candidate.'
'Not a kid'
'Sure.'
Jonas eyes soften then as well. Then he smirked and rolled his eyes. 'I'll bring you the closest resemblance I find to that ... uh ... highly generic description.'
Malcolm laughed. 'Yeah that was highly generic, but those are still critical traits for me. Please look for those.'
Jonas nodded, and stepped away from the office. Malcolm returned to the agenda laid open in his desk then before hearing Jonas call out. 'Your woman's here.' from the outside. Malcolm looked up. Indeed, by the doorframe there were two tiny brown eyes looking at him patiently - not wanting to interrupt. He laughed. God he loved her.
Her heart ached. If only he knew - she thought. River didn't know if she had stayed by the frame because Malcolm seemed busy or because she wanted to have a couple of seconds to try and memorize the atmosphere of what these days used to be like. It was probably the latter - the back of her mind already bracing itself to inevitable storm she had set in motion.
'Why are you here?' he asked, even though he thought he already knew the answer. River had been having really hard days since the accident - the type of days where she would wake up from nightmares in the middle of the night. 'I'm done for the day, if you want to do anything. We can go for a walk' he offered.
River suddenly didn't feel like speaking. She nodded. 'I think I would like that' But then her eyes landed on it: the binder. The binder at the left of Malcolm's desk which front cover read 'Red passenger'.
'what's that?' she asked. Her voice a pitch higher than original intended. The question carried fear in it.
'Oh. Just a case I've been working on. I'm really intrigued by it. I don't know I should be telling you this, but it's basically a gang, cartel, organization, I'm not sure how to describe them, that call themselves Medallion. They seem to be very active, but no one really even knows exactly what is it that they do. They employ random people who are willing to do only one job in exchange of monetary gain, so they don't even have an actual base nor can we truly track the people involved. It's like an underground Uber or Airbnb business model, except, well, criminal. But I'm worried though. What I just described is already bad enough - but it also has the potential for the crimes to be connected working for some higher darker end that no one actually knows about.'
River stood there, quiet. Understanding finally - what exactly was being asked of her: Contain the red passenger. Sabotage your boyfriend from ever finding us. She had been played like a pawn. She actually started fearing for his life - not only hers. Through her, they knew where he lived, they knew he was working on this case, and they knew his connection to her. It felt as if Malcolm swam afloat blissfully unaware of the sharks underneath, while she clearly grasped their silhouettes for being herself halfway underwater. She started to wonder how many times had he actually been in danger.
'Has anyone ever tried to kill you before?' she asked. The question slipped her before she could stop it.
Malcolm looked at her disconcerted. 'I've gotten threatened for sure, but no. Why?' he asked frowning his eyebrows. There was more to this. 'has anyone done anything to you?'
'No'
'hm' he said simply, but the question lingered in the air. 'You would tell me if something happened, right?' he asked after a pause.
There was a time she would have answered with an automatic yes. 'I would have' she said - painfully aware of the word play she just leveraged. Tricking her mind into thinking she was not directly lying to him - she would have told him in the past - while conveniently ignoring that lying and hiding the truth are essentially the same thing. 'Let's go for that walk' she added. She wanted one last afternoon of peace. She wanted to enjoy the eye of the hurricane - the moments of few moments of calm at the center of the developing storm.