>>>>>>>>>>•○▪□▪□•○•<<<<<<<<<

Julies' POV

"Did you adopt a daughter?" He asked with farrowed brows.

"I'm not adopted. I'm her biological daughter, Julie," I countermanned eyeing him in annoyance, offended by his statement.

"Biological daughter? Is this some kinda joke?" the man asked turning to my mom, his eyes held many questions waiting to be unleashed at her.

"Wait, Julie?" he said, realization seemingly hitting him, looking at no-where in particular supposedly in thought.

"Julie died years ago, right? Caitlin!" He yelled.

I felt fear, anxiety and shock grip me at the spot. My heart beat doubled per second. I became lost for words.

"What do you mean by I'm supposed to be dead?" I managed to let out as my breath began to seize.

I looked at him, expecting some kind of clearance for his statement or should I say misconception. Instead he faced my mom seeking answers through his eyes but she didn't even spare him a glance. All her attention was given to the floor as she stared at it intently.

"Caitlin, what's going on?" the man asked prostrating himself.

"You stayed away for years! All of a sudden Julie is alive?"

Then she looked between both of us and focused her eyes on him after a while.

"Look Max... I can explain, just come with me," She said, walking with the man following behind her.

Her black suede heels made click sounds as it came in contact with the white plain stainless tiles and the sound seemed to be the only thing I could hear.

"Mom!" I yelled, but she ignored me and went on.

I felt like I was on the verge of having a panic attack.

"Tell me what's going on!?" I yelled as I walked over to the door after they had gone through. I twisted the door knob, but it wasn't budging, jiggled it violently, but the same effect.

She locked the door.

"Mom!" I banged the door.

I stood silently on the same spot with many thoughts running through my head.

What should I make out of this?

Caitlins' POV

"Caitlin, I really don't understand," Max said looking into my eyes as the afternoon wind tried to shake the hold of his hair, but failed.

"You said Julie was dead." he reminded me while the expression I've always dreaded to see on my little brother's face mocked me; anger.

FLASHBACK (16 years ago)

I was at home with Julie on a Friday night. Julie had been crying non-stop and I was finally able to put her to sleep. I kept her down in her crib immediately I saw her eyes drooping.

I plopped down on the couch waiting for John. They told me he had a last minute mission and he's still not back.

I checked the golden digital clock hanging on the wall, it read 11:50. The midnight is drawing closer and John still isn't home.

I started pacing back and forth as worry settled in.

"Maybe the mission is gonna last till tomorrow morning," I muttered to myself.

"But if it was gonna last that long, Max would've told me," I said picking up my phone and dialing Maxs' number.

Some shuffling sounds were made, before he settled and responded. "Hello," he said, sounding as anxious as ever.

"Max, what's going on? where's John?" I questioned, worry filling me to the brim.

"He's still on the mission, but it wasn't supposed to last this long. He hasn't communicated with us for a while now, and I'm getting pretty worried," he informed, worry and frustration both laced in his voice, which increased my anxiety.

Many thoughts were running through my mind, but I was trying to avoid the worse of them.

Another call was coming through, it was a private number. I thought of ignoring it, but a little voice inside said otherwise.

"Hold on Max, I'm getting another call," I said, putting Max on hold- listening to the little voice.

"Hello," I said, trying to calm myself down, not to give out the state I'm in.

"Caitlin, it's me... J-John," a male voice said with ragged breathing.

"John? John, what happened to you?" I asked as my breath sped up from the upcoming tears.

"Caitlin, I'm s-sorry... I c-can't come b-back to you and Julie," he groaned.

I froze and time had done the same. The sound of my heart beat, increased and was so audible, it felt like it was echoing through the walls. I could feel the pain of a thousand people punching my chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to talk and hard to move.

"What do you mean John?" I whimpered, denying the next thing that was going to to be said.

"What do you mean? Just come back home, we'll--I'll," I stammered, finding some kind of ray of hope.

"Caitlin, I can't," he said with a pain filled voice.

"Y-yes you c-can," I stuttered, trying to deny any fact.

"You don't get it, he's c-coming for me," he grunted, "I can't make it."

"Where are you? We'll come get you," I said as tears began tricking down my cheeks.

"Caitlin promise me... p-promise you'll protect Julie... no matter w-what," he grunted shakingly, the pain he felt was evident in his breathing, in his voice and it made my heart hurt more.

"John don't say that. We'll protect her together," I cried softly, still denying the fact placed right in front of me.

"C-Caitlin I'm sorry... I can't make it," he cried with his breathing out of sync.

"John...Jo-John please don't say that," I said with my lips and chin trembling.

"Caitlin remember... remember I'll always... always love you. Even at death," he grunted--his voice sounded miles away. He was so close, yet so far, I could hear him breathe, talk, but I could not do what I yearned for...

"John please," I cried, holding on to the moment. I don't want to stop hearing his voice- the voice that was filled with so much happiness was now with nothing other than pain.

"I'm really... r-really sorry," he whispered.

Then the line died.

The pain I felt was unbearable. The memories of the face that had such wide smiles on, the way his blue eyes twinkled in joy and excitement-- dashed through my mind.

I fell to the floor and gripped the edge of the coffee table, holding back screams. I sobbed quietly to avoid waking Julie.

The memories of our love, rushed back like a flood of water; the shocked and excited expression he had, when I told him of my pregnancy. The way his eyes glimmered, when he first held Julie in his arms, the beautiful smile that he gave to the new-born that changed the entire atmosphere of the room.

I couldn't let him go.

"Max, send in back up and bring back John," I commanded, immediately I heard his voice through the phone.

"Please," I cried.

"Don't worry Caitlin, we've sent in back up," he informed and immediately cut the call.

I wiped my tears, stood up and went over to Julie's crib. She was sleeping so peacefully with her little pink blanket wrapped around her 12 inch form.
I touched her face with my wet and cold hand, which made her shift from my reach, knotting her thin crescent brows together.

Feeling my emotions about to pour out, I ran up the flight of stairs and rushed to my room. I closed the door quietly after I had entered the scoope and gripped the door knob tightly, so tight that my knuckles turned pale and I felt my vein protruding from my forearm.

Leaning on the wall, I was slowly slipping to the floor. I crawled up to a ball after I had reached the it and sobbed quietly.

"John, how could you leave me like this!" I bawled as my back was on the wooden frame of the door, feeling splinters piercing into my flesh, but I felt numb to the pain.

●●●

"I had to protect Julie no matter what," I stated with tears threatening to fall, but blinked it away.

"So the accident never happened?" He asked with frustration evident in his voice as he knotted his brows together.

"You think lying to me, lying to our family, was the best way to protect Julie?" he asked with hurt evident in his voice, "how does that even make sense? We are a family."

"Max, I did what I thought was best. I had to get Julie and I away from that dangerous life. Every time, we do our best as spies to protect the country, but who protects us," I defended, feeling frustration beginning to rise.

"Caitlin, you're not the only one that cares about Julie. Joan and I both care about her. We would've done our best to protect her," he frowned.

"Well, I did my best to protect her." I said flatly.

I opened the door and walked into the living room, with Max following behind me.

"Caitlin-" he started.

"I think you should leave." I cut in, looking away from him.

"But-"

"Leave," I said sternly, glaring at him.

"Frank, let's go," he sighed.

Then he stopped mid-track, standing under the arch and turned to fix his sparkly grey eyes at me, "you know this is not going to solve anything."

As they left, I averted my gaze to Julie. She was looking at me, trying to make sense of what had happened.

"Mom, what's going on?" she advanced towards me with a frown.

Then I pulled her in for a hug. We remained like that, until she wiggled herself from the hug and retracted her steps. I inspected her oval shaped face that had slight acnes on her chin and the way her hazel eyes stared at me with disdain. Her cresent shaped brows were knotted together and her lips formed a tight line.

"What just happened?" She daunted with puckered brows.

"I'm really exhausted. We'll talk later," I said as I picked up my bag, walking through the arch, trying to avoid the conversation and the many questions lingering on the mind of Julie.

"No Mom, now!" She yelled.

"Don't use that tone on me, young lady," I threatened as I turned around to face her.

"You're leaving after I had just been told, I was dead!" she said as her nose flared and her eyes widened.

"I said I am tired," I avowed with a strict tone.

"Two Federal Agents came and told me I'm supposed to be dead," she said as she scrunched her brows up, "how do you want me to feel?"

"I can't do this with you," I said as I turned around and made my way to the stairs.

"Mom!" She bellowed. I ignored her rants and made my way up the flight of stairs.

I understand how she must feel, but it does not give her the right to talk to me like that. I'm her mother, everything I was doing up until that point was for her. I knew what I was doing.

I slammed my wooden door hard into its crux and threw my purse on the pink and white floral sheet that covered the bed. I drew large breaths and released them in an effort to relax my tensed muscles and temper.
I ran my hands visiously through my hair and let out a loud puff.

Then I heard the booming sound of my ring tone play in the space.
I traced the source of the reverberation and mapped it out to my bag. Rummaging through my purse, I brought out my phone and chucked the purse back on the bed.

I assessed the caller ID and slid accept after much contemplation.

"Hello," A female voice said.

"Who's this?" I asked carefully.

Last time I had answered a private number, my husband died and his body was never recovered. So my hesitation is understood and most of all, justified.

"It's Joan," she informed.

First Max, now her?

"What happened?" I speculated.

"I'm calling for the same reason Max was there."

"To tell me, I'm a terrible mother and I make bad decisions for my daughter?" I snarled.

"Max wasn't there because of that, neither am I calling for that reason."

"So what do you want?" I asked and hostility could be traced in my tone.

"John's apparent killer is back and we've spotted him around here in Brooklyn," she said.

As the words came through the earpiece, I felt time freeze once again. I heard every little sound made, the sound of the wind shaking my window slightly, the sound of leaves on the tree across the street crashing into each other like a war had been waged between them. The friction between the leaves on the road and its surface, made screeching sounds that tore through my ear drum.

"God," I muttered. I can't to go through what I had before.

"And we think he's after you. We originally thought he was just after you, but now that we know Julie is still alive, she could be a possible target too," she hedged.

"We're not safe here, we have to move as soon as possible," I said more to myself than her. Anxiety began to rise and almost over flew as I thought back to the pain I felt after losing John.

"You can't keep on running away. If you move, he'll still follow. I think we should deal with this head on," she advised.

"What does he want from us? What did John do to him?" I breathed, as my eyes roamed around the tinted brown paint of my walls, "there is more to it than what meets the eye."

"I agree. That wasn't just a case of a spy dying on a mission," she asserted, "something's definitely wrong."

"Send in the details of the mission to me," I said as I strolled to the golden framed picture of John and Julie, placed on the dark brown timber cabinet at the immediate right of the space. I ran my finger on the image that stood graciously on the expressive object.

I ran my finger over John's glossy glass face. He carried Julie in his arms, smiling ever so lovingly as he tilted his head to adore the little face of the 5-month old. The white background completed his angelic feel, together with the way his slight blonde hair fell to his forehead.

He was beautiful.

No more running. The only way I can protect Julie is dealing with this head on and John would've supported me.

"Caitlin, promise you'll protect Julie no matter what." John's voice rang through my mind and I could still remember his ragged breathing and the pain his voice held.

"Caitlin," Joan brought me out of my trail of thoughts, "we've gone through the details a thousand times and nothing seemed odd to us, it was just the case of a mafia hunt down."

"Just send it in," I commanded.

"I will."

"I'm expecting it before the end of the week," I said as I began pacing back and forth. My heels made constant clicking noises against the brown tile that had been given the outline of a wood and the sound seemed to have increased my anxiety, so I stayed still.

"Have you told Julie about everything?"

"I don't know if I should. Knowing Julie, she would definitely insist on helping us," I breathed, crossing my arms to rest my elbow on it.

"Well, let her. She has every right to," she conferred, "he was her father."

"If I let her, then I'm basically pushing her towards danger."

"We will be there with her," she assured.

"I'm not taking chances."

"Fine," she breathed, "I will send everything through your email."

"Don't," I shrieked, "he could hack it. We have to be careful."

"Then I'll send it through the Organisation's platform," she informed.

"Good." I consented before she hung up.

I lowered the phone and stared at my home-screen.

The picture of Julie and I at the beach during last year's spring break--spread across the screen of my phone. We were so care-free, happiness was evident in our faces and in our matching glimmering eyes as bright toothy smiles were plastered on our visage.

>>>>>>>>>>🕵<<<<<<<<<

Thank you guys for reading till this point.

Please tell me if I made a good choice by restarting this book.

This chapter is dedicated to you guys and kween913 for being an amazing friend and supporting this book.

Love you guys💖💖

Please don't forget to:

Vote

Comment

Share

Follow, if you want and I'll be sure to follow back.

Preshivipes out👊