Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
When my station stop appears, I step off and follow the crowd as we make our way to the exit. It’s not far to walk from here, and I turn left the moment I get onto the pavement. The house is only a few streets away, but still, the nervous feeling that’s been haunting me attacks once more, and I stop in the middle of the crowd.
As people pass me by, they don’t take note of me. Nobody notices anyone in London. The city is busy; there isn’t really time to stop and think. No moment where you even look at a stranger. When I no longer feel eyes on me, I turn and head down towards Chelsea, where our semi-detached townhouse is situated. Once inside, I breathe deeply. My pulse riots against my chest, and I know I should tell my mother about what happened.
It’s become the norm for me to feel as if someone is watching me. And if I don’t tell her, and something happens, she’ll feel guilty. I can’t have that happen. Setting my purse down on the table at the entrance, I decide to go to the kitchen first. It’s empty, but I grab a water and choose to wait till dinner before I talk to her. She’s probably in her office, and I don’t like disturbing her when she’s working.
I’m about to take the stairs to the first floor when I hear my mother’s voice shout at someone. I’ve heard her angry before, but this is different. Ignoring my escape up to my room, I head toward her office instead. If she’s in trouble, I should try to help.
The door is slightly ajar, and I reach for the handle, but I’m stopped in my tracks when I hear her voice again. “She’s not coming to live with you.” Her tone is no nonsense, and I’ve heard it before. Whenever I wanted to do something she didn’t agree with, I’d be told directly I would be locked in my room or grounded if I disobeyed.
The silence tells me she’s on a call. I wait to listen, leaning against the doorframe. My mother has many business partners, and for a moment, I’m certain she’s talking about them.
But then she says, “I took her when she was a child because I didn’t need her in harm’s way. You know if I’d left her with you, she wouldn’t have made it past her thirteenth birthday.” My chest tightens, and my heart thuds wildly against my ribs. It must be my father she’s talking to.
The thing is, I haven’t seen him before. I don’t even know his name. When I asked my mother, time and again, she always told me was in the army. The story was that he got deployed, and never returned home. I believed her, but from what I can tell right now, she is talking to him.
“Listen to me,” she says, but then doesn’t continue, and I wonder if the man on the other end of the line interrupted her. If he did, he must have said something bad, because seconds later, a vase smashes to the floor, causing me to jump. I can imagine which one it is. When I was little, I always thought it was magical. A large, crystal monstrosity that shimmered as if there was glitter in it.
“You can try,” Mum says. “But it’s not going to work. You know why? Because she’s my fucking daughter. I worked hard to put her through school, to make sure she’s not a part of this organisation. She’s free from the confines her grandfather set out, and I’m not about to let her walk right back into it.”
For a long while it’s quiet, and I close my eyes as I breathe softly. I don’t want her to hear me. I can’t let her know I’ve overheard the conversation. With delicate steps, I move away from the door and make it to the staircase before she exits her office.
“Miren,” Mum’s voice calls to me. “I didn’t realise you were home already.”
I glance over at her and smile. “I just walked in.” The lie tastes like a bitter pill on my tongue, but it’s the only way I can make sure she doesn’t realise I’ve eavesdropped. “How was your day?” I ask lightly, hoping the change of thoughts racing through my mind will calm my erratic heartbeat.
If I can get to my room, I can figure out who my mother was talking to, which I can only assume is my father, though she told me he’s dead.
“It’s been busy,” she tells me, but she doesn’t meet my eye. Something I learned whilst doing my studies was anyone who can’t make eye contact is hiding something. I’ve learned how to read people over the past four years. Even though I still have years to go before I graduate, I know for a fact what I studied so far is true. “I have a few meetings coming up this week. I may be out of town for a while, so I’d like you to make sure you’re driven everywhere. Don’t go out partying, please.” She looks at me with worry in her eyes. “Also, I’d like you to ask Alexia to stay. Perhaps you both can do those spa weekends you enjoy so much.”