Hope Striders

“What possible history could you have with this one girl?” I heard the sound of the blade cut the air, but I also heard shortly after a small laugh coming from the old woman. “'Your toys do not threaten me.”

“Fix her.”

“And unlike your toys, she is not one of them. She cannot simply be fixed on the spot like you ask.” The old lady lifted her glasses from off her chest and onto her face at the tip of her nose. She bent her head down to my neck and placed her hand there. She leaned back to her straightened position. “I’m sorry, I cannot—”

The blade slammed down onto the table, and the sound of a large thump echoed the small room. His voice was very threatening as each word spilled out of his mouth with hatred. “Do something.”

The Chinese lady tilted her head almost in inquisition. “Who is she to you?”

“No one.”

“Oh, she is someone indeed. What is her name?”

“Katie, but she likes to be called another name.”

“Which is what?”

“Kay.” He tried to avoid saying.

“Kay what?” The lady continued, determined to find the motive behind this guy’s actions.

“Kay Wormwood,” he submitted.

He knows me?