A Lover's Revenge Chapter 3

Prala is wailing by the time we get to my home. The death of her grandparents has taken a horrible toll on her. She had struggled when I buckled her in the backseat. She had also screamed at me, begging to go back.

I unbuckle her and carry her inside, patting her back as I go. My calm demeanor has no effect on her. Wordlessly, I put her on the living room couch and wait for her to calm down. Gradually, she does.

Prala breaks the silence, "My grandparents. They were to take care of me after what happened to my parents."

"What happened to your parents?" I ask.

"They died in a car crash."

I sit there, unable to speak. Pity for her rushes into me rapidly.

I say, "I'm so sorry Prala, I didn't know."

She doesn't reply and we sit in silence. The silence is broken again when I ask, "Do you have any other family members?" She shakes her head.

I stand up and go into the kitchen, leaving her in the living room to grieve over her new losses. The kitchen, a pristine white when I left it, now seems dull. I sit at the wooden table, thinking about what to do next.

Should I give her up to the adoption agency? Let the happy girl I met at the airport turn into an unwanted, sad child in an orphanage? Should I keep her and care for her as my own? Do everything I can to make her happy?

Unable to come to a decision, I pour Prala and me some water and walk back into the living room. She lies face down on the couch, the pillows bearing the burden of her tears. I reach to pat her back and then withdraw my arm, deciding against it. I wait on the sofa parallel to her. Finally, she looks up.

"What do you want?" She growls. Suddenly, she gets up and start to hit me. I bear the pain that her tiny fists bring. She stops, and falls into my arms, sobbing helplessly. I pat her back and say soothingly, "There, there."

Her tears cease and her breath evens. I carry her to my room and lay her on my bed. I watch her sleep as I decide what to do next.

~~~~~~~

"So I have to choose between here or a orphanage?" Prala asks. She had slept for five hours. When she had waken up, I told her about the two decisions she has to choose from.

I reply, "Yes, I have thought about it while you were asleep and decided that as much as I would love to have you here, it's your choice. Plus, your parents said in their will that your grandparents are to take care of you, which cannot be fulfilled. I called and asked where you were to go and I was told that since your grandparents were dead, it was your choice between the orphanage or to stay with me."

I omit the part about that her parents had left their daughter a large sum of cash for when she was eighteen.

Prala grins, "I guess I will stay here. You can be my new dad!" With that, she jumps up and hugs me. I'm in shock for a little bit and then I hug her back.

I pick her up and twirl her in the air. She squeals with joy and I'm laughing in delight. I carry her downstairs into the kitchen, which is once again a pristine white. I whistle while making us peanut butter sandwiches. Life is once again happy, even if for a little while.

After a joyful lunch, we go down to the adoption agency. A hour later, I'm officially a father. While we go to her old house to get her possessions, a sudden thought slaps me in the face. What if I die fighting Tyler? Prala would be alone again, stricken by the loss so badly she will be traumatized by grief and sadness.

Prala notices the sudden change of expression on my face and asks, "What's wrong?"

I wave her off, "Nothing, nothing . . ."