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A week later found Frank dragging his tired self into his apartment building in the dead of night. The phone call from Cody set off a chain of events that sent them to D. C. for a week on Bureau business.
"Well, Good Lord Mr. Donovan! You look like hell!" Gerard, the doorman said quietly as Frank passed by him towards the elevators.
"It's been a long week Gerard. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"
"Nothing much Mr. Donovan. I see you've got some letters dropped at your door while you were gone."
Frank stopped and turned around. "Really? You didn't happen to see who dropped them, did you?"
Gerard looked up and to the side while he thought. "Nope, sorry Mr. Donovan. All I saw was the pile of envelopes at the base of the door."
"Thank You Gerard. Take it easy." Frank sighed as he punched the button to call the elevator. With another smile to Gerard, Frank leaned against the back wall of the elevator as he rode up to his floor. More letters...
He opened up his door and found a week's worth of letters. Hope had been busy. He'd taken to calling her 'Hope' in his mind because she'd signed her last two letters 'with hope'. Fluidly he scooped up all eight of the letters and headed off to the bedroom.
One by one he opened them. There were no dates on the letters, just her words filling the pages. Some of them were written with the same pearly green ink, some with the pearly purple ink. There was one, however, that he could tell was the newest. There was a blotch of ink at the bottom and when he opened it, the ink came off on his index finger.
Carefully he rubbed his finger and thumb together. The scent of what he thought to be cinnamon or something else spicy wafted up to his nose. So, the ink itself was scented, not the paper. He looked at the ink on his fingers now. This one was black and iridescent. He could see a rainbow in the black coloring that darkened the pads of his thumb and forefinger.
He set that letter to the side on the bed, letting it dry completely while he read the others more carefully. The words lifted off the page and wrapped around his mind and heart. Someone, with no personal knowledge of him, that had never met him or heard his voice, was seemingly so entranced by him. The very thought brought a self-satisfied smile to his lips. Frank knew that he was attractive to women. That fact made itself evident each time he went out in public. Women couldn't help but stare open-mouthed at him. But to see these words from a complete stranger, the words describing him in such a fashion... he felt so flattered.
This was probably the most romantic thing he'd ever experienced in his chaotic life. His chaotic life... the thought brought him back to reality for a moment. This person knew nothing about him but what she could see. She could know nothing of what he was that his life was in danger with each assignment he took for his team, that each time he himself went on assignment. All she knew was a handsome face. Frank sobered up a bit and looked at the letters littering his bed. There was one he hadn't read yet - the only one in black ink.
Hastily he gathered up the other letters and stacked them up neatly. Where was it? He flipped through the pages again, looking for the aberration in color. It was missing. For a moment he felt panic. He'd lost one of her letters. 'Think Donovan... it can't have gotten far' he reminded himself. However, when he got on his hands and knees to look under the bed for it, he couldn't find one trace of it.
"What the hell..." he sighed as he sat back. "It was just here." With a growl of frustration, he got up and pulled the sheets back on the bed. It was a far-fetched chance, but anything was possible. As he pulled the pillows up, he spotted the letter lying under the pillow on the other side of the bed from where he slept. Strange coincidence, he mused, as he sat down to read it. Carefully he leaned back against the pillows and the headboard as his chocolate colored eyes flicked over the writing.
'I have not seen you in a week and I begin to worry about you. What has taken you away for such a time? Not seeing you is like not seeing the sunlight for too long. Flowers begin to wilt, spirits begin to dampen and hope begins to flag. One wonders if there is ever a light to the darkness when the sun goes away.
'Again it is hope that guides me through the day. Hope that you will return, Hope that you are well, Hope that I have not in some small way offended you with these letters. And it is Hope that makes me believe it will not be the last time that I look upon you.
'With Hope'
Frank blinked. She was worried about him. As he looked around, he began to think. She should get an answer. But if she was close enough to notice that he was gone for so long, then she would also know that he was home again by the light shining in his bedroom.
A thought crept into his mind. He reached over and turned out the light, then crept to the window and looked out. So many places she could be. He was on the top floor of his apartment building and there were many more buildings behind this one that could look into his bedroom window.
Which window out there held his Hope?
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