One hundred and four

Sally's POV

"Where have you been all these years, Sally?" Grandpa asked, his eyes still watering. My tears have dried, I can't cry anymore.

Just as I answered, my grandmother came back into the room with a tray of coffee for the three of us to hold onto to catch up with each other.

The last time they heard from me was in Paris, the day before things calmed down. Since then, reaching them has been only possible by getting them involved in this mess. They didn't know about my grandfather's passing.

“Grandpa… he died the day after I called you.”

My grandmother gasped in disbelief.

"He was assassinated. We had to move out of headquarters and move to Northern France for a year. We moved back to Paris after the burial and left America for 2 years. And came back here recently." I summarize, leaving the part where I was also shot, although it was not my time to go, it felt like it.

At this moment, I cannot tell them about what happened to their daughter. I can't tear what's been sewn, I can't