~*The Sisterhood [Part 3]*~

Hello! I'm sorry for the lack of me :) Well, but I'm here now and bringing you the next chapter of The Sisterhood. What will I think of next? I know that the popular votes (Yanas) are all for global castration. I couldn't agree more! LOL :D~
Hope everyone is fine & as contagious Sam would say, peace & happiness :)
***
I wanted my wife to have a beautiful funeral. A priest, music, stuff like that. Oh, and I also asked the agency to dress up kids as angels and make them sing some songs. Not necessarily sad songs; I have read somewhere that in some countries funerals are celebrations. People celebrate: eat, drink, and dance because one more soul has reached Eden. Or paradise. Or heaven. Call it as you may. My wife was a big fan of Marilyn Monroe and all those love songs. So I decided why not sing some of Marilyn's songs? At least one.

Next week my wife will be in Eden. I was kind of getting used to the idea that my Ana was not here and I actually was looking forward to the fact that my wife won't be here anymore. I was talking to her from time to time. Like: 'This will make an excellent addition to this case, ain't I right, hun?' Well, yes, I actually liked the idea that her soul shall rest in peace. At last.
I remember that day. Her skin was so white, bloody red lips and a black dress. She's soulless. She's dead.
It was raining and the priest was singing along with the little angels. Poor kids, they all will have colds after this funeral.
I don't know why but everyone was standing without umbrellas except me. And her. I saw her. How could she come to my wife's funeral? How did she know that my wife had died? No newspapers could have written that. No people could have said that. My wife wasn't a celebrity, I wasn't a celebrity. How could that bitch know?
I came closer to her and grabbed her hair.
'Nice to meet you, Ana. If you are Ana, that is.'
'Let me go!'
'Why are you here?'
'It's a funeral!'
'Oh, you noticed? I don't see you dressed in black.'
'Stop it for crying out loud. People are looking at us. You don't want them to think that you have a romance with me.'
I let her go.
'Thank you darling. Now what was it you wanted to ask me?', Ana said in a sweet way and smiled.
'If you don't tell me why you are here I will beat the shit out of you.'
'Since when are you rude?'
'Since now.'
'Very well. I knew Ana. I know everyone in this cozy little city. You haven't noticed? I even know you and your father. I know your mother. I know your date of birth. How banal.'
She took a cigarette and lit it.
'A beautiful funeral. She deserves it', she said and looked at me.
I looked back at her. I was surprisingly calm. She smiled at me and I looked at her neck. She was very young. You can tell a woman's age by looking at her neck. Faces lie because make up can hide flaws. I also noticed something little and strange on her neck. It was like a little tattoo or a symbol. It looked very familiar to me for some reason. Not that I have ever seen it. I wasn't sure.
'What's on your neck, Ana?', I asked,' Are you really Ana?'
'Yeah. Ana. I'm Ana.'
'So? What's on your neck, Ana?'
'Nothing. It's something that one of my patients has left me.'
'Patients?'
'Yeah, patients like you.'
'I thought I was your client.'
'No. Clients come when they are fine and are willing to have some fun. You are a patient. I saw your sad eyes that day. I mean night.'
I stayed silent. People were watching me and Ana. They were talking about us, I was sure. Stuff like he found his new Ana. People are disgusting.
I went away from her. I went away from them all. I left in the middle of the funeral because I couldn't bear seeing their restless eyes on me. All eyes were on me.
I was walking through one old street and I hardly could see my way through those colossal rain drops.
Suddenly I felt a cold hand on me. I was frightened. I shook and turned around.
'Stay away from her. Stay away from that woman!'
'Who are you?'
'No matter. Stay away from that woman or you will be in grave danger!'
It was an old man. He looked nervous because he was looking in different directions. Left, my face, right. Left again and right. He was wearing a dark cover and I could barely see his face. He looked almost like a monk to me. Maybe he was a monk. Whoever he was, he hurried back to where he came from. He vanished right in front of my eyes, leaving me breathless and frightened. I was standing there in the rain like a brick wall.
'Christopher?'
I turned around to see who that was. I made a squeaking sound I have never thought I'd be able to make. I felt a wave of weakness coming over me.
'Chris, you look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong with you? I thought you were at your wife's funeral.'
'Mike?', I opened my mouth feeling quite relieved.
'Well, yeah. Who did you expect?', Mike asked.
'Sorry. Just some old timer frightened me. I was at the funeral. I couldn't bear being there. I am a coward.'
'I understand you, mate. I wasn't around my Elizabeth's funeral either.'
'Yeah. It's raining hard, ain't it?'
'Sure is. You'd better go home. You had a bad day.'
'I think I will, Mike. That was my intension in the first place.'
I left Mike. I was walking along that street with a feeling that I was being watched. I think I was right. That monk-kinda-thing was afraid of Mike. He saw Mike coming and hid. Maybe he was a fugitive? What did he want from me then?
The next morning I woke up feeling badly because of my sleepless night. I wasn't sleeping well; I was thinking what has my life become without Ana, my precious wife. I wonder if Mike ever felt the same. He'd never tell. Did he have feelings inside that heart of steel?
I ate breakfast whilst watching the news. Nothing new: politicians are getting stacks of money, celebrities making up new religions. The old yap yap.
I was just about to finish my coffee when I heard a knock on the door and some steps. Someone was in a hurry. So was I. I wanted to see who that was. But I didn't make it. Whoever it was, he's gone now.
'What the...'
There was a letter. I opened the envelope and took a note out of it.
'Christopher...
Please meet me at the local cafe tonight, called Salvador's.
8 PM, tonight.
This is very important. I think I know why your wife died.
Christopher if you care, you have to come.
PS. don't let anyone follow you. I will wear a wig.
I think you will recognize me.
Yours faithfully,
Ana'
I couldn't believe it. She knew the murderer's name? Should I tell Mike? No. I should certainly not. I am a man after all. I will come alone.

'Christopher if you care, you have to come.'

I care. Of course, I care.