I can see the papers and sketches, carefully made folders and files that lay scattered on my floor from my bed. They taunt me, keeping me from sleeping. It’s three am and work still calls to me.
I hear the TV turn on in another room. Attempting to fall asleep isn’t working. I get up and join my abuela in the living room. Her wheelchair is folded against the wall, Jeopardy on the television.
“Abuela it’s three in the morning,” I sit on the couch next to her recliner. She beams.
“Jimmy! How is your paper?” She gushes, quickly interrupting herself with the answer to the question on the TV, which happens to be What is the Battle of Shenandoah.
“It’s okay,” I reply, matching her Spanish.
“Any leads?” She looks at me and I laugh.
“You make it sound like a murder investigation.”
“They are murderers, grandson, they’re terrorists. You’ve seen the news.”
“They’re not terrorists,” I sigh. “They’re Brokens, their story is probably being twisted into lies. You should know that better than anyone.”
She goes silent, unfortunately I don’t regret my words, glancing at her arm. The tattoo that brands her as a failed TIME experiment. She never talks about her time with the terrorists. I suppose I can understand her fear they will come for her again.
TIME has had many projects, like the Nazi’s in WW2. An excuse to practice science.
“Anyway, there are no more websites, no more books, nothing I can check. There’s nothing unbiased about them.”
She shrugs, agreeing. It’ll be hard to find a resource that doesn’t already have an negative opinion.
“I can talk to them,” I say slowly, returning to English. She looks at me.
“Yep,” I nod grimly. “Or at least that’s what the news says.”