A few minutes later, Sakura found herself seated in the same seat in Hobi’s rental car that she had woken up to discover herself in earlier today. His friend was sitting behind her. Sakura closed her eyes and let the rhythm of the vehicle begin to lull her to sleep. She hadn’t slept much last night. She had kept reliving her encounter with Hobi. And the thief. She’d tried to push the terror away, but it had kept her up half the night.
Having her purse ruthlessly yanked off her shoulder had been more traumatic than she would have anticipated. She could still feel the hand that had grabbed the strap and yanked it down the length of her back until her arm had finally relinquished its possession. When she’d struggled to hang on to her bag, he had punched her. The force of that fist had pushed her backwards towards the street. She could still feel pain exploding into her eye where he had hit her. Today it was tender where she touched it. She knew that a black eye would form soon. This morning, the area had still been pink. But soon, she’d be wearing her favorite color on her face. Not exactly the way she’d desired to.
After she’d arrived at home last night, she’d had to call and cancel her credit card. Now she’d have to go get a new ID too. And that had been her favorite purse.
“What did your purse look like?” Hobi’s voice sounded.
Suddenly wide awake, her eyes popped open, and she turned her head to stare at him. Had he just read her mind?
“Actually, it was a backpack. An anello. Royal purple. With a golden zipper.”
She’d loved that golden zipper. It had always opened and shut so smoothly. She sighed. She’d really loved that bag. It had gone everywhere with her. Until last night.
Why hadn’t she put both straps on? If she’d been wearing it like a backpack instead of a purse, would the thief have even attempted to take it? His chances of making off with it surely would have been far less!
She closed her eyes again as she leaned her head back against the headrest. She had lost several other items of importance to her. She wanted to weep as she remembered the letter she’d carried in that bag. Her best friend from elementary school had written her a little note one day. Sakura had kept it all these years. She knew it was probably silly to carry a letter a seven-year-old had written to her over seventeen years ago, but that girl had been her one true friend. She had moved away when they were eight years old. Sakura had never seen her again. Minato. Now she had nothing to remember her by.
Hobi glanced over at Sakura. He was startled to see a tear sliding down her cheek.
“Hey, are you okay?” came his gentle voice.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “The backpack wasn’t the only thing they stole.”
His lips quirked. “I know,” he responded dryly. “They took my sunglasses.”
She laughed in spite of herself and her sad memories. “No. I meant the stuff inside my bag.”
“Oh.” Hobi instantly sobered. “What did you lose?”
“Just a letter.”
“JUST a letter? If that tear is anything to judge by, it was more than JUST a letter.”
Suddenly self-conscious, she reached up and brushed the tear off her cheek.
Hobi sighed as he caught the movement of her hand out of the corner of his eye. He had wanted to brush that tear away himself. Now he wouldn’t get the chance.
“Who was the letter to?”
“Not to. From. My best friend in primary school.”
His felt his forehead wrinkle in response to the uplifting of his eyebrows. “You still had a letter from grade school?”
She nodded. “It was from my best friend. Minato. I haven’t seen her in sixteen years.”
“Oh.” Hobi stared at her. Why did he get the feeling that Minato had been very important to her? He could tell that Sakura was very upset about the missing letter. “Well, who’s your best friend now?” Maybe he could get her to focus on something positive.
“I don’t have a best friend now. Minato was my only friend.”
He glanced sharply at her. Did she mean, like, EVER?
“You mean, she was your only friend in grade school?”
She shook her head. Then, in a tiny voice, she replied, “Minato was the only friend I’ve ever had.”
