Elektra by Yvonne Navarro

they loved were dead? Why not visit and “pay their respects” while that person was still alive to receive them? To her, it made no sense, but there was little in her life these last few days that had.
    The furniture in her father’s study had been the last in the house to be draped, but his massive desk was still uncovered. Elektra hurried over to it and checked the drawers as quietly as she could, going through each one until she found the key she’d seen him put away the day before. Clutching it in her palm, she dragged one of the leather chairs over to the wall cabinets, then pulled the sheet aside and climbed on top of it. She had to stretch to get the key into the lock, and for a long three seconds she didn’t think she’d be able to make it turn. Finally, though, there was a click and the cabinet door eased open.
    The sais were heavy and dangerously sharp, and she took them out of the cabinet one at a time. Moving as quickly as she dared, Elektra relocked the cabinet and tossed the key back into the drawer, then moved the chair back to its place and positioned the sheet so that it looked like it had never been touched. Carrying both the sais was a struggle, but she would not give up—someday, she was going to need these.
    It was bright outside, obnoxiously so. Today was her mother’s funeral—shouldn’t it be overcast? Pouring rain and thundering, crying from heaven? It always did that on television, but now that she was living the reality of it, Elektra realized it didn’t matter. No matter how bright the sunshine, how warm the breeze and sweet the birdsong, she was so sad that all she wanted to do was curl up on the cool, green grass and cry.
    But there was no time for that—she had to finish her task.
    Elektra found her way to the center of the maze and the well without thinking about it, and for a moment after she’d dropped the sais on the ground, she just stood there and glared at it. Wishing well? Where was the future she’d wished for, all the happiness and stars, and the live-happily-ever-after? She was just a kid, but already she knew that all that had died with her mother.
    Shaking her head, Elektra squatted and began digging into the soft ground next to the well, being extra careful not to dirty her suit or the white cuffs peeking out from beneath her jacket. When the hole was deep enough, she dragged the sais over and pushed them into it, making sure that no part of their bright metal showed through the soil she meticulously pressed into place over them.
    “Elektra! Elektra, where are you?”
    Her father—it must be time to leave for the funeral. She gave the ground a final, hasty smoothing over, then stood and brushed the dirt off her hands. If she had to, she could hide her dirty fingernails in her jacket pocket. She gave the well one last glance, then hurried to meet her father, wondering why, of all things, she could hear a telephone’s muffled ringing in the maze—
    Elektra sat up with a gasp and grabbed at the cell phone ringing on the nightstand. “What?” she demanded hoarsely.
    “You just got a delivery,” said McCabe.
    She’d been dreaming, another nightmare; she was soaked with sweat and her feet were tangled in the sheets and she had to fight to get free. Cold, wet air blasted her in the face when she opened the door and looked down; between the outer storm door and the inside one was a manilla envelope—it was always amazing how McCabe could get something to her in the middle of the night, no matter where she was.
    Back inside, she ripped open the envelope and dumped its contents on the table. For a long moment she was silent as she stared at what had been inside. Finally, because she knew McCabe was expecting some kind of comment, she said, “It’s a double?”
    “That’s why the big bucks.”
    She didn’t say anything back, just kept staring at the two photographs and the information sheets. They read like something out of a statistics class—cold and