It has been five years. Five whole years, that was how long it had been since Lisa and Isabella had last seen the rusted gates of St. Agnes's Orphanage. it has been a past that claw on their skin. Five years since the night she and Isabella had escaped, clutching each other's hands in survival.
Freedom had not been the fantasy they imagined.
The first months had been a blur of cold nights till they were able to get a small crafted room with the little money they had. They had the hope of finding job quickly and moving out from that environment. Little did they know that, life outside isn't as easy as they thought. Because they escaped with almost nothing they were using cardboard and old newspapers as blankets. Some days, they'd go without food entirely. The streets taught them never to stay in the same place twice, never trust a stranger with kind eyes, and never, ever let fear slow your feet.
At a time, in the middle of winter, Lisa had nearly frozen in her sleep. Isabella had to shake her up to stay awake, rubbing her arms and cuddling her to give each other warmth until the temperature increased a little, she was murmuring and reaffirming to Lisa, "We're not dying out here. We're not going back." was her words.
during their second year, they had scraped together enough for a shared room in an apartment building on the edge of the industrial district. The place was not that pleasant but was better than the one they initially had. The tap water ran normal unlike before,they didn't had to deal with rat that much again and the hallway always smelled much livelier than they had perceived for the past one year. "That was enough for now." they thought.
Lisa took whatever work she could lay her hands until she was able to secure a job in a coffee shop that was paying her extra. Washing dishes at a greasy diner, sweeping floors in a hardware store, bagging groceries until her back ached was part of her previous jobs. Isabella did much the same, bouncing between shifts at a cleaning service, and a tailoring shop. The pay was barely enough to cover rent and a few groceries. They learned to each to survive. Things were taking a turn. At least they can afford basic meals of the day now.
They didn't talk much about their past, but the memories was always there. Sometimes, on nights when the electricity cut out and the only light came from a flickering candle, Isabella would hum the lullaby an older girl had once sang to them. They only choose to remember the good memories they had. Lisa would stare at the shadows on the wall, her chest tightening with a mix of longing and relief that they had made it out.
By their third year in the city, things got tougher. Lisa was still working at the coffee shop, her once soft hands were now hard, her posture straighter, her eyes sharper because she takes extra shifts from colleagues and her boss as well. Isabella had developed a quick smile that could defuse a tense situation and a voice that could turn ice cold if anyone tried to push them around. But their limits was always.
One rainy spring, Lisa lost her job at the diner when it shut down overnight. They went weeks without steady income, eating mostly from the ones they had already saved. And that won't do any good to them.
They almost had nothing again before one faithful morning Lisa got a call from her previous boss who gave her an address to go and check out for job. It was like a fairy to her. She nearly didn't believe that she just answered that call.
Things had already settled well with them. Lisa had already gotten a well paying job. She was recommended by her previous boss from the coffee shop she worked. Now she is managing another coffee shop whose owner was already old and couldn't continue working.
Isabella eventually found the next foothold. She started doing small alterations for a high-end boutique through a connection at the tailoring shop. The pay was still small, but the job exposed her to a world neither of them had imagined, silk gowns that shimmered in the light, glittering jewelry, and customers whose perfume lingered long after they left.
Sometimes Isabella would bring home scraps of fabric, satin, lace, velvet, and she and Lisa would turn them into handmade purses or scarves to sell.
By the fifth year, Lisa had saved just enough to rent a comfortable condo apartment in the central part of town. The walls were well lining, no more rats or any uncomfortable threats,heater worked in the winter. AC woks very perfectly. It was just like the illusion they had imagined. They both moved in, and they called it home.
One rainy Tuesday, Isabella came bursting through the door, shaking water from her coat.
"Lisa," she announced breathlessly, "you're coming with me on Friday."
Lisa looked up from the scarf she was hemming. "Where?"
"To the charity gala. My boss needs extra hands for the catering staff. Big event, rich people, politicians, maybe even celebrities. We'll get paid double for the night."
Lisa frowned. "I'm not exactly made for champagne and diamonds."
"You won't be drinking champagne. You'll be carrying it," Isabella grinned. "It's one night. We need the money. And who knows? Maybe you'll see how the other half lives."
Lisa hesitated, but the thought going out and seeing the world from another angle came to her mind. She cared less about the money because she was already comfortable and can afford anything she wants now. "Fine. But if I trip and spill wine on someone important, I'm blaming you."
Saturday night came, Gwen enterprise was hosting their event at Westgate Grand Hotel.
The ballroom was like nothing Lisa had ever seen. Crystal chandeliers screamed light like liquid gold over the crowd, and the polished marble floor gleamed under the soft strains of a string quartet. The air smelled like roses and expensive perfume.
Waiters in crisp brown uniforms moved arround, weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes. Guests in silk gowns and tailored tuxedos laughed in smooth, revised tones, their jewelries reflects the light with every movement.
Lisa felt un-noticed which was exactly how she wanted it. She just wanted to see the world from a distance. She kept her head down, moving between tables, refilling glasses, clearing plates. Her feet already ached in the too-tight black shoes they'd been given, but she kept moving.
Isabella worked on the other side of the room, her smile bright as she handed champagne to a pair of women draped in jewels. Every now and then, she would glance at Lisa and wink.
At the far end of the room, the stage was set for speeches. A tall man in a perfectly tailored black suit stood near the stage, speaking quietly with a group of officials. His presence was radiating power, not because he tried to draw attention, but because he didn't need to. He had the kind of calmness that made people turn toward him without realizing.
Lisa passed close enough to catch a fragment of his voice low, steady, with the faintest trace of something she couldn't place.
She didn't look at him directly, but something about him made her pause for a moment.
On the other side of the ballroom, Adrian Donald's eyes flicked toward a movement in the crowd, a young waitress slipping between guests with a tray. He thought nothing of it at first, but then his gaze lingered. There was something in the set of her shoulders, the quiet precision of her movements. Before he could place it, she was out of sight.
Lisa kept working, but the image of him stayed in her mind. The way he held himself, confident yet somehow distant, stirred something in her chest she didn't quit understand.
When the speeches began, she stayed near the service entrance, half-listening as the mayor praised Gwen enterprise for featuring and showing most of their businesses to the outside world. Adrian took the stage next, his voice calm but commanding, speaking about opportunity, rebuilding, and second chances.
Lisa wasn't sure why her hands stilled as he spoke. She told herself it was curiosity. Nothing more.
The event quickly came to an end, the guests had exited the building, music played in the background to a slow piano, and the air carried the faint scent of spilled champagne. Lisa and Isabella gathered glasses in the service area.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Isabella teased, glancing at her.
Lisa shook her head quickly. "It's nothing. Just tired."
But when she lay on the bed that night, staring at the cracked ceiling, she recalled the event again, the glittering lights, the hum of music, and the brief, unexplainable pull of a stranger's gaze from across the room.
Neither of them knew that night had brought their worlds closer than they had been in years.