Broken Wings - XI -

Miranda woke from her dream with her hand in the air. It was extended, reaching. She didn't know who the boy was in her dream but she had seemed to know him. Reaching her hand to him seemed as natural as it was for her to embrace Nita. She shook her head trying to wake up. The dreams had been with her all of her life but they still shook her. As usual, the questions followed. Who was he? Where was that? When was it? What did it mean? She sighed. Again, she had no idea what the answers were and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. The dreams were helpful in that they gave her an insight into things to come. Unfortunately, they never said specifics. More times that not, the reality of the situation meant turmoil and that her life was going to be effected by the event. She just didn't know if she was ready for her life to be turned upside down, again.

"Come on, Miranda." She told herself. "Don't be so melodramatic." Yes, her dreams had meant a lot of grief in the past but they had brought some good things too. Like Nita. Just the thought of Nita brought a smile to her face. True, it was not the way that she had planned on getting pregnant. True, the situation was a nightmare. In spite of that, she would not trade her daughter for anything in the world.

Thinking of her daughter, Miranda got up to go check on her.

Entering the room, she flicked on the light and saw the toddler bed with the blankets thrown to the side. No Nita. Miranda looked at the clock...4:30 a.m. The girl was not even three years old yet and Miranda already felt like she needed a personal security system for her. Grabbing her robe, she headed out the door. Time to check the usual places.

Two rooms later, her pace was steps became more anxious. The kitchen had been the logical first stop. No matter how many snacks a day the child had, she seemed to be constantly hungry. She wasn't there.

Then, there was Cassi's room. Maybe she went to find her aunt and play. She had done this quite a bit when she was younger but not as much lately. The onset of her quiet moods and seemed to end these visits but Miranda checked just in case. She wasn't there either.
The next place for her to check was the garden. Nita loved to sit outside on the iron benched and smell the 'lowers. Miranda was becoming uneasy. The further she got from their quarters, the more danger there could be for Nita. She couldn't deceive herself anymore. There were people out there who would pay money and even kill to have her daughter. She had to find her.

As she turned to walk back into the building, she heard a noise from behind the glass doors which led to the Atrium. They called it the Atrium but it was actually a beautiful glass enclosed room that suited many purposes. Some days it was a meeting room, other days it held a brunch. No matter what the scheduled activity, there shouldn't be anyone in there at this time of the morning.

Miranda quietly opened one of the glass doors and peered through the pale green blinds that separated her from whoever else was in the room. She could hear a series of controlled breaths with an echo. Inhale....inhale...Exhale...exhale...Inhale...inhale...Exhale...exhale. When she saw who the breaths were coming from, she smiled.

There was Englishman that she knew only as Clancy. Although he had come onboard a few months earlier as head of security for Le Village, here interaction with him was limited. Usually, he worked with Greg and was in the background of the resort's operations. Still, she should have known that he would be in here. As much of an enigma as he was, the one thing that was common knowledge was that he was an early riser with a strict morning routine. A young couple looking for a quiet place too be alone had found that out the hard way. With a fleeting smile crossing her lips, she turned her attention to Clancy's routine. She didn't want to make her presence known just yet. Composed of a mixture of martial arts and military calisthenics, the routine looked like a forceful ballet. Next to him, Nita was mirroring his movements. Knees bent, torso straight, the two of them had their arms bent at the elbows and pushed their hands through the air, first left, and then right. Miranda was amazed at the stance of her daughter. It was exactly the same. If it weren't such a comical site to see her small frame in that position, she might have been concerned with the precision of her mimicry.

Stepping out of the blinds, she cleared her throat. Clancy stopped mid-air and straightened up.

"Well, hello." With his slight British accent. "I assume that you are here for Anita?"

Miranda tried not to smile at him. Everyone else called her Nita. He was the only one who used her whole name. Still, he was almost a stranger to them and she didn't want to encourage Nita to get any closer to him. It was too dangerous.

"I'm sorry that she bothered you." She walked over and picked up her daughter.

"No bother. She's right bright for such a wee thing."

"Yes, she is quick. Thank you for watching her Mr. Clancy."

He ran a hand over his dark blonde hair which was starting to get long enough to hang down the sides of his head. With a military background, his hair seemed to be one luxury he enjoyed getting back. That and the diamond stud in his ear. "Twasn't a bother Miss Proust. She can join me any time. Why don't you call me Clancy. Everyone else does."

"I am not like everyone else, Mr. Clancy." She said coolly.

"I can see that."
She rolled her eyes. "Mr. Clancy," She was trying to maintain an air of professional detachment but he was making it increasingly difficult. For a minute, she looked at his brown eyes but thought better of it. (Keep focused Miranda.) "I appreciate you watching my daughter for me but I can handle it from here."

His face cracked in a slight smirk. "Are you sure?"

Her grip on Nita tightened. "Yes, I can take care of my daughter. I suggest that you concern yourself with security matters and leave my family to me."

"If that's how you want it."

"That's how it is."

Hands to his side, he gave a slight bow from the waist and backed away from her. "As you wish. Goodbye Anita," he nodded his head towards Miranda, "Miss Proust."

Taking his towel off of the floor, he threw it over his shoulder and walked out the door leaving Miranda watching him walk away. She looked down at her daughter.

"Okay you...what now?"

Nita reached out, smiled, and touched her on the nose. With a sigh and a laugh, she turned and left the Atrium. You never knew what was next with her. All she could do was hope that the future held good surprises.