Chapter 14
Ivana didn’t have many friends anyway. She decided not to answer any calls from San Diego.
Peeking through the peephole, she glanced
at the door across from hers. It was closed.
Her French was terrible, so if Winston could tutor her, it would be a huge help. Her savings weren’t much and learning.
French in France would be an extra
expense.
Carrying her simple breakfast, she rang
Winston’s doorbell.
Winston seemed to have just gotten up, his gaze was unfocused, his hair messy and his pajamas slightly wrinkled.
She asked, “Uh, would you like to have breakfast together? I have some questions. about French and would really appreciate your help.”
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Winston glanced back into his apartment and scratched his head, “Sure, it’s just that the place is a bit messy. Come on in and sit wherever.”
Walking inside, Ivana immediately noticed, yes, it really was quite messy… The table was strewn with countless clippings. and blueprints, leaving no space to put down breakfast.
He said, “Sit anywhere you’d like, I’ll go wash up.”
Ivana put the breakfast down and started organizing the scattered documents.
In the past, Ernest’s files had also been messily left around and it was always Ivana who helped sort them out.
“Shocking Fire! Four–Year–Old Girl Becomes Orphan!”
“San Diego District Fire: Feud Between the Wealthy Suspected!”
“Nolen Bar Blaze: Was There a Conspiracy
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Behind the Failed Fire Systems?”
There were also some architectural blueprints on the table. Ivana stared blankly at them. That four–year–old girl left orphaned by the fire… was her.
When Winston emerged after washing up, the sight he saw was Ivana holding one of the old newspapers, staring at it in a daze. Her frail back resembled that of the little girl from all those years ago, utterly heartbreaking.
“Ivana.” he called her. She came back to her
senses.
He asked, “Why are you crying?”
Ivana touched her face. Sure enough, some pain, no matter how long ago it happened, still felt as fresh as if it were yesterday.
“It’s nothing. The girl mentioned in this fire. … is me.” She forced out a bitter smile.
Winston’s heart clenched. “These
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34
newspapers are from so many years ago. Why are you reading them?” Ivana asked.
His eyes flickered slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly, “As a firefighter, I need to learn more about past fires, it gives me a better chance of saving lives when the time comes.”
After a pause, he asked seriously, “If you don’t mind… could you tell me about the fire you experienced back then?” Winston looked intently at her, as though this matter were extremely important to him.
Ivana began explaining in earnest, while Winston listened carefully, jotting things down as if taking meticulous notes. Before they knew it, they’d talked the entire morning away.
“Ivana, do you resent the family next door? After all, the fire spread from their home and you were just … caught up in it.” Winston’s pupils shrank slightly, but Ivana didn’t notice.
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She gave it serious thought before answering, “At first, I did. I always thought we were so unlucky, they were careless with fire and it cost me my parents. But later, I learned that the little boy from next door was also orphaned. Suddenly, I couldn’t hate them anymore. No one wanted this to happen. Everyone is pitiable. Hatred won’t bring my mom and dad back.” Her voice trailed off, tinged with
sorrow.
The little girl from twenty–three years ago gradually overlapped with Ivana’s face in Winston’s mind. A storm of emotions raged within him.
Winston made lunch for both of them and dinner too. After a whole day of intensive. French learning, Ivana felt like her head was about to explode.
“It’s nearly ten. Let’s continue tomorrow,” Winston checked the time, urging her to head back.
Pressing her temples, Ivana sighed, “My
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brain isn’t very quick. I need time to process all this. Let’s meet tomorrow afternoon, I’ll review everything in the Te morning.”
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