”Jake moaned, “I’m sorry babe. I’m so fucking hungover. Too much Tequila last night. Maybe tomorrow?”Cyra’s gut twisted in to tight knots ...hen she heard Rhonda’s voice whisper to Jake, “Is that Cyra?”She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to ease the sudden pounding in her head. “Okay, Jake. Maybe tomorrow.” She stared blankly at her phone’s screen. Jake had ended the call without saying good bye to her.Cyra headed home. She fought back tears as she stared at her reflection in the subway. She was thinking about her mom and how that was the last time she had really ever seen her happy. Being almost three at the time did not deter the memories that were forever scarred into memories. She was brought back to the present by her name being said. ‘Here tonight, we have the renounced Mari Lydia!’ the man said as she started onto stage. ‘Hello everybody, how’s it going? Is everyone ready to party because I know I am!’ she said with a grin. Her talent for singing and writing songs had. I will admit that I took delight in that fact and often on nice summer nights, I skinny dipped, taking long swims, letting everything hang free.It was still early in June and the nights were sometimes a little cool, but the pool was always perfect!So, after dinner that fateful Friday night, while the families chatted, I announced I was going to take a swim and lumbered up the stairway to my room to change into my swimming trunks, or should I say, briefs. And they were brief. Hip-Hugging, Brief!. They both died on a mission when we were just a few months old. The Organization (we never had need to know its real name) took it upon itself to train us, to replace our parents.From the time we could stand and hold a knife, we were trained in all types of combat, including martial arts, archery, weapons, and poisons. We were also taught a dozen different languages.Bruises and sprains were an everyday event. Fighting while injured or in a cast was regular part of our training.We were well fed,.
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