I directed my car in the garage as soon as we got home, and parked it. "Are you sure you're not going home?" I asked Dyana who begged to stay and come home with me. I was hesitant at first, given that Jean would not be delighted about it, however, I know exactly how to handle things with a little negotiation.
"I can't go home. I do not have anywhere else to go. I have nothing with me or under my name, none at all." She's feeling upset. Her eyes teared up upon meeting my gaze, to which she suddenly avoided, looking down at her feet.
I feel bad for her. Although Jean taught me not to let my emotions take over me, I just could not bear to be ignorant towards Dyana. Perhaps, because she is the very first woman of my age that I have ever get to have a conversation with since I was young. Jean never allowed me to mingle with other people in fear that enemies would be able to track us down through other people, knowing that the Hudson will not stop until they kill Jean and I — the last two of the Killicks. I stayed aloof for all these years, until now. If it weren't for Jean, I would have gone mad. She even hired a close friend of hers — Tasha — to be my private teacher in learning what other children were learning in school.
Despite my young age, I had taken several exams to prove my capabilities in the medical field, and fortunately I passed it all, leading the board in rank one. However, instead of working in hospitals as a general doctor, Jean has built a private hospital for me. It's funny how she decides things for me, but then I don't bother to contradict since it isn't so bad, at all. We hired staff, nurses, and doctors to work with me. The other good thing about our hospital is that it offers vast discounts for those who are not fortunate enough to pay for their bills. Which made the Mavin K Hospital famous.
Yes, I am a doctor and an owner of my own hospital, but none of them have ever seen my face. If I ever come to visit the hospital, I always keep my mask on and only take it off when I am back at home. That's how secretive we are, that they do not even know what my surname is. They only know my first name.
"Come, Let's meet my aunt." I opened the door of my car, climbed down from it, and waited for Dyana to mount down from it whilst carrying the grocery bags.. When she finally got off, she turned to me and looked hesitantly as if she had something to say but could not speak it out at all. Subsequently, I looked at her and raised my right eyebrow in query. "What? Speak up, or you'll never be able to do so." Somehow, I find myself threatening her quite frequently than I would usually do to my aunt.
Dyana walked with me towards the main door of the house. "Will it be okay? I mean, coming in with you?"
I shook my head in response to her inquiries. "You're already on your way in." I shrugged. "Besides, my Jean does not eat people. At least, not alive ones." I teased. Which made her grasp and flinch, clutching to my arm. She's sweating like a nervous child who just heard something terrifying. Like perhaps, a whisper from a ghost or whatsoever. "Having second thoughts? Come on, don't be a chicken lady, I am just kidding. Now, if you are done frightening yourself by believing my ridiculous jests, you can let go of my arm."
"My bad." She removed her hand, away from my arm. "Seems to me that you enjoy making fun of me. Are you not more of a mere sarcastic fella?"
What she said humoured me. I reached for the doorknob and turned it open. "You've got sharp tongue." I snapped at her as we paced the hallway towards the living room. The look inside the house looks exorbitant, given the massive hall, magnificent collections of original paintings of famous artists, and captivating decoratives that even the curtains speak class despite their plainness. "Welcome to our humble home. I would truly appreciate it if you could make yourself comfortable, feel at home." I welcomed her, gesturing to her to sit at the nearby long couch.
Without saying anything, Dyana turned to the couch, sat down, and looked at me innocently. She's like a little child who's lost. "Thank you. You've got a warm home." She complimented.
"That's nice of you to say. There's more beyond its warmth. Don't worry I will show you around, later on." My eyes darted from her eyes down to her bare feet. "Hey, come with me." I pulled her by the hand, without waiting for her response. She looks dirty and so am I. I dragged her to the bathroom in the living room, a distance away from the couch she sat down a moment ago. "Go inside, take a bath. You're dirty" I ordered her.
She glared at me intently as though I just insulted her. "I appreciate your offer, but can't you see I do not have spare clothes?"
"That's a dumb interjection. Enter and you'll find a wardrobe there. Feel free to wear anything." I rolled my eyes at her when she produced a ridiculous look at me. "Yes, a wardrobe inside a bathroom. Got a problem?" It's not a very common thing, but then time is different from before, and so stuff are. "And please grab a pair of slippers or whatsoever. Your feet are struggling."
When Dyana entered the bathroom, I went around to look for Jean and found her in the kitchen. "I'm home." I placed the grocery bags in the long black glass table in the middle of the kitchen.
Jean smiled at me as she took off her apron. She was cooking something. "Welcome back, home. How's the outside world?" She asked, looking at me still smiling dearly.
"You speak as if I was gone for a long time, crazy." I walked towards the pot and the pan she was working with to see what she was cooking. "Smells good. Makes me hungrier." In the pot, there's a pork stew and fried chicken with a barbecue sauce in the pan. "I messed up." I told her.
"What do you mean you messed up?" I looked at Jean and she was not taking my words seriously as she cheerfully prepared the table with eating utensils.
I let out a deep breath, bracing myself for the possible outcome of my actions. I can't lie, not with Jean. "I saved a woman who was being chased by the constables. And, with saving her, I meant battling the constables." Rubbing the back of my neck, I slowly looked at Jean and I prayed for luck to be on my side, in respect to her serious face. It's more like, she's emotionless. "But, I masked myself. Look…" I showed her the ripped part of my shirt. "...I used it."
Jean crossed her arms before her chest, leaning her weight against the glass table. However, she did not say a word. Instead, she looked me directly in the eyes in a fierce manner. I could not bear to look back at her and so I avoided her eyes, for I know that I am at fault.
"I brought her here."
"What did you say? Explain yourself to me, woman."