They had sent a signal out.
Her husband was dead, and they were coming for her. She knew it, and she had just a little time left before they located her and killed her too. There was no time to grieve for her late husband. She had her whole life to do so if she survived this. Right now, her focus was getting herself and her little daughter out of here and to safety. They needed to go somewhere far away, where they would not find them until she got back up.
She rushed to the study to pick up a pen and a paper. As quickly as possible, she scribbled down a note:
Whomever you are that found her, this was my last wish before I die, that you ensure the safety of my daughter and that she lives. Do have a kind heart and grant the last wish of a dying and helpless mother. Take her to her aunt at the address below:
6th Avenue, New Jersey.
The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to grow up in a foster home. She carefully folded the paper and rushed out of the study. Her daughter was in a corner in the sitting room. She was on the floor, playing with her building blocks. She was innocent and little. She was oblivious to what was happening, what was likely to happen. She walked over to her daughter and knelt to meet her level.
"Baby, we have to go," she said, pushing aside the building blocks and reaching out to her daughter. She embraced her, hugging her tightly because she knew that this was probably the last time she would hold her daughter.
"Where, Mama?" The tiny and lovely voice of her three years old daughter was all it took to make her lose control. She had been holding back the tears, but now it came pouring down, her shoulders quaking uncontrollably.
"Mama, why are you crying?"
Releasing her daughter, she wiped her tears with the back of her right palm. She should not let her see her this way. She did not want to scare her. Her daughter deserved the peace of mind gifted to every young child.
Holding her two shoulders, she looked up at the eyes of her daughter. "You know mommy loves you, right?"
"I know, mama. I love you too, mama."
"I would never leave you intentionally, baby. I would never do that. I need you to understand." She was a little child, and to her, the word intentionally must be ambiguous, but there was no time to explain. She just needed to say those words to her. She would grow up and understand.
As if sensing the gravity of the situation, her usually inquisitive daughter did not bother asking her the meaning of the word intentionally. She was very grateful for that.
"Mama, where is daddy? Will he go with us?"
Unshed tears were threatening to fall. There was no time to get emotional. Here was a mother who needed to be strong for her daughter.
"He will meet us there." She lied. Without waiting for her daughter to respond, she continued,
"Take this, sweetheart." She put the folded note inside a small pocket on her gown. "Whenever I am not around, whenever you cannot see me, give this to someone. Anyone- except a cop, ok? Will you do that for me, baby?"
"Yes, mama." Her daughter replied, nodding her head.
"You know the uniform of a policeman, right?" She asked
"Yes, mama."
"Don't ever give it to someone in that uniform, ok baby?"
"Yes, mama."
"You are a brave girl. Brave like your mama." She said, pecking her daughter on both cheeks. "Come on. We have to go."
She stood up and picked up her daughter, carrying her to her side on the waist. Quickly, she ran to the front door and opened it. The sound of trails of cars parking in front of their house stopped her. She listened. Footsteps followed the sound, marching toward them, heavy and fast.
Deep down, she knew it was too late, but she was not going to give up easily. She was going to fight till her last breath. She rushed to the kitchen to use the back door, grabbing a knife along the way. She opened a drawer close to the door and brought out a bunch of keys.
Dropping her daughter, she tried locating where the key was, her hands fidgeting. A bang on the front door sent her leaping and her daughter wrapping her hands tightly around her legs. Two more banging noises and the front door came crashing down.
"Find them!" were the cruel and cold words that greeted her ears. Deep and fierce, the voice was. A hint of what was their faith if this person caught them. Without giving up, she kept trying the keys. It was not a frequently used door, so she hardly knew which one was the right key.
Footsteps were getting closer, and her hands were becoming sweaty. She was on the verge of having a panic attack. If she did not survive this, her daughter had to.
"Once I open the door, baby. You run, run and do not look back". She whispered to her daughter, still trying the keys as she spoke.
The door clicked.
She had found the key. Smiling with tears streaming down her face, she looked down at her daughter, knowing it was the last time she was going to see her.
"Do not move!" It was the same deep and cold voice. Taking a deep breath, she swung the door open, fast as she could.
"Run, Baby! Run!" She screamed with all her might. Those were her last words before a bullet passed right through her head.
