Page 12 of Falling for the Bosshole

Lash looked at her. “Come. There’s something I want to show you.”

Ana wondered but followed him anyway. They walked down a narrow hallway that ended outside a door in solid wood with a rounded top. Lash pushed it open and ushered her into a room that resembled a small library. Suspended lamps from the ceiling cast halogen glow onto reading tables beneath them. Historical books with faded covers and thick folders lined the walls. An atlas sat on a pedestal, and rolled parchment scrolls were neatly stacked on another shelf. There was a musty smell of aged paper inside the cool interior.

Lash headed for a particular shelf and pulled out a binder. He brought it to her.

“You may want to take a look at this. These are testimonies made by witnesses about atrocities done to certain tribes of the Roma, the Gypsy race. As I said earlier, part of what the Foundation does is verify the authenticity of these reports. I don’t know if these would help with regards to your mom. But it’s a start.

Ana sifted through the documents. Some of the testimonies were hard to read. Most were reports of unlawful crimes done to gypsies. Ana flipped a page. An annotation said it was an account of the kidnapping of a 16-year-old girl named Nathaliah from a village called Zafarraya.

Ana’s heart skipped a beat as she sat there riveted. Something stirred in her memory. Zafarraya? Then she remembered. “Beautiful Zafarraya, your rolling plains, and verdant hillsides are calling me home….”

It was part of a lullaby her mother used to sing when she was a child. Could there be a connection? Then there was her mom’s name, Nathalie. Was it derived from the girl’s name in the document? Nathalie. Nathaliah. Ana began to read.

Nathaliah was a beautiful Gypsy girl born to a poor family. Her parents owed a sum of money to the leader of a neighboring tribe. Unable to pay his obligation, her father promised the leader that he could have his daughter’s hand in marriage. Nathaliah refused to anger the leader who was known to be powerful and ruthless. One night, Nathaliah disappeared. They searched everywhere, but she was nowhere to be found. Everyone suspected the clan leader, but no one dared to confront him. Her father reported the incident. The local police refused to get involved. Nathaliah was found three days later. The girl was raped, bound and gagged, and left to die in a cave.

Ana couldn’t believe what she was reading.

The report said that Nathaliah was tied to a tree and lashed repeatedly. Honey was poured on her body, attracting ants that feasted on her. Thinking she was dead, they cut her down and threw her in a cave. After three days, a dog of her father’s cousin found her. The cousin barely recognized her from all the cuts and ant bites that covered her entire body. Miraculously, Nathaliah survived, but the girl refused to speak for months. The family eventually moved to another village, and nothing more was heard from them.

Ana didn’t even realize she had stopped breathing. Her mind was in a whirl. There was nothing to verify the document. But in her heart, she knew. Nathalie, her mom, was Nathaliah. Zafarraya was her hometown. She never talked about the kidnapping. It was her dark secret. If the account was true, then it was no surprise she refused to even talk about it. What stunned Ana was that the person who did this atrocity was another Gypsy--her own kind. Was that the reason her mother hated her race?

“It had to be…It had to be the reason why,” Ana’s whole body was shaking.

It made sense. She had no doubt she found her mother’s dark secret. She was sorry for her mom, sorry for what she had to go through at such a young age.

“Oh, mom,” Ana whimpered as she began to cry.

An overwhelming sadness filled her. If she only knew, then she could have done something. Anything. And she would have understood why her mom was cold and distant even to her father, who was loyal and stood by her side till the end.

“Ana, what’s wrong?” She heard Lash’s voice. She didn’t even realize she was no longer alone inside the room.

Ana shook her head. Words failed her even as she handed him the document.

Lash understood. “You think this was her?”

Ana nodded. Lash sat down beside her, pulled her close, and took her in his arms.

“I am so sorry, Ana,” he crooned.

His empathy made her cry even harder. She sobbed into his chest. She wept for her mom, whose fate treated her so unkindly. Suddenly the world seemed a darker place. But surprisingly, she felt safe in Lash’s embrace.