Chapter 13: Way Out
What do I do now?
The question echoed in Isadora's mind, a frantic, looping refrain with no answer. The car's gentle stop jolted her from her thoughts. She looked through the window, surprised to see they were already back at Sebastian's mansion. The journey had passed in a blur of anxiety.
Her hand fumbled for the door handle, desperate for the sanctuary of her room, but Sebastian's voice, calm and low, stopped her.
"My mother," he began, his gaze fixed ahead. "She's a good person. She just doesn't trust people easily. So, don't take her words or actions to heart."
The statement was so unexpected, so almost… protective, that it left her speechless. Before she could form a response, he was out of the car, the door closing with a soft thud. Mr. Charles was there a moment later, opening her door with his usual quiet efficiency.
Sebastian walked into the house, but paused at the foot of the grand staircase. He turned, his eyes finding her as she trailed hesitantly behind him.
"And about what my grandfather said," he continued, his tone shifting to one of cool pragmatism. "You don't have to worry about it. I will take care of it. Just… do whatever makes you comfortable."
With that, he turned and ascended the stairs, his footsteps fading into the upper floor, leaving her alone in the vast, silent foyer.
Isadora stood frozen, replaying his words. I will take care of it. What did that mean? Would he talk his grandfather out of the reception? Would he hide her away? The ambiguity was its own special kind of torture. After staring into space for a long moment, she just shook her head, a weary sigh escaping her lips. "Whatever," she mumbled to the empty hall.
She finally made her way to her bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it as if barricading herself from the world. She stripped off the beautiful black dress, the fabric that had been her armor and her target all evening. Changing into soft, worn cotton pajamas, she felt the day's tension begin to leach from her muscles. She carefully placed the dress on a hanger, a small, grateful smile touching her lips as she thought of Jane's kindness. Then, she crawled into the immense bed, her body and mind exhausted, battered emotionally and physically. Sleep claimed her almost instantly, a temporary escape from the gilded cage whose walls were closing in.
***
Across town, in a part of the city the Rolls-Royce never ventured, the air was thick with the smell of greasy food and the incessant noise of traffic. A three-story building, its paint peeling, stood squeezed between others just like it. The windows of one apartment faced the busy street, the glass vibrating with the rumble of buses.
Lily pushed open the door to the cramped apartment, her shoulders already slumped with a familiar weariness. The scene inside was a portrait of domestic chaos. Empty beer cans and chip bags littered the floor. The television blared a football game, its glow illuminating her brother, Liam, and his pack of friends sprawled across the stained couch.
Liam, shirtless, revealed a long, jagged scar that ran diagonally across his chest a permanent souvenir from a past fight. He didn't look away from the screen. "Hey, sis. Did you get the milk?"
Lily stopped in her tracks, her bag slipping from her shoulder. "No, I didn't get the fucking milk, Liam," she snapped, her voice sharp with pent-up resentment.
The door opened again, and a middle-aged woman shuffled in, carrying a grocery bag. She had Lily's same sharp features, but they were softened by weariness and etched with deep lines. "Come on now, Lily, don't be hard on your brother. You know he doesn't have a job yet."
"Mom, please, can you stop defending him?" Lily's voice rose, frayed at the edges. "He doesn't have a job because no one in this neighborhood is stupid enough to hire him! Not after he and his friends robbed his last workplace, got caught, and went to jail! And now he's just useless as ever!"
"That's enough, Lily!" her mother, Sarah, snapped, her face hardening. She pulled a carton of milk from her bag and slammed it on the cluttered table. "I got the milk. Now, that's enough."
Liam just smirked at his sister's fury before grabbing the milk and heading to the kitchen. Sarah pulled her cleaner's uniform from her bag, the fabric smelling faintly of bleach.
Lily followed her into the small, shared bedroom. "Mother, you have to stop spoiling him. He's not a child anymore."
Sarah turned, her eyes tired. "That's enough. He has been through a lot. Give him a break." She paused, then added, "And that's not what matters now. I tried to get him an interview at my workplace today. Let's see what happens."
The words hit Lily like a physical blow. She stared, speechless for a full minute, her mind reeling. "Mother," she finally whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief. "You cannot do that. The Walker's Group isn't just a big corporation. It's one of the biggest in the city. We barely got him out of jail last time. What do you think will happen if he tries something again at a place like that? We won't be able to get him out. And I, for one, don't give a fuck, but I can't see you go through that again!"
Sarah sighed heavily, the sound carrying the weight of a thousand disappointments. "You said he should get a job, and now you say he should not work?"
"Mom, that's not what I mean, and you know it!" Lily's hands clenched into fists. "After all, you've been working in that place for ten years! You're finally the team leader of your department. And the first thing you want to do with your little bit of power is bring about your own downfall?"
Sarah simply took Lily's hand, her grip calloused but gentle. "Child, you should get some rest. I will make dinner." She walked out of the room, leaving Lily standing alone in the oppressive silence.
Defeated, Lily sank onto the edge of the small, lumpy bed. The frustration was a hot, bitter taste in her mouth. And then, in the midst of her despair, she remembered. She pulled her phone from her pocket, a slow, calculating smile replacing her scowl. She had a number to call. A number that belonged to a man with silver hair, a flashy car, and a connection to a world that could be her ticket out of this mess.