Looking For a Place

After ringing the intercom, you nervously brush your arm, waiting for someone to answer. It takes a while, and though you expect her to descend from the stairs, Emily appears from the ground floor, where your grandmother used to live.

Well, she's not your grandmother anymore, and this isn't your aunt's house either. You try to remember the last time you were here, but that was Tom or Kim, not you.

-Cindy! Hey! I didn't expect to see you so soon!- She says, surprise clear in her voice. She has to come quite close to recognize you in the dim light.

-Y-Yeah. How did it go with the police?- You ask, just to make conversation. You can't see her expression well, but she doesn't seem happy.

-Not great, actually. Charity was already there. But what's up? Has something happened?-.

Has something happened? It had, hadn't it? You happened. You happened and ruined everything. You nod nervously.

-My mom, s-she's gone.-.

-What? But... how? Do you mean she's...-.

-I d-don't know if Charity got her too or... or if...- You can't say it out loud. But you know she gets it: if she just abandoned you.

-Emily, I, I want to thank you for this morning, but... would it be possible to sleep here for the night?-.

Your former cousin opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, and only at this moment you realize you were expecting a bright smile. But your egohism is simply met by her clear discomfort.

-Oh, Cindy, I... oh god, I feel terrible saying this... but my mom and grandma are really worried about Aunt Jess and Tom, and... and I think it's better if... oh, Cindy, I'm really sorry...-.

Your head spins and your breathing becomes erratic, but you shake your head. When it comes to hold your appearance, that's the only thing you're still decent at.

-No, no problem, really, I get it. I'm worried about them too, so it's better if I don't add my drama, right?- You babble in a faint voice. Emily looks at you with a distraught expression, but she doesn't move.

-Cindy, it's not like that, you know you're not a problem...-.

-No. No, I am a problem. That's the whole point.- You chuckle, stepping back from the fence. -And you're right, really, I mean it, you've done more than I deserved. Thank you, really, thank you of everything. I'm sorry I bothered you. Say hi to Maddison and Caroline for me.-.

You turn and walk away, deaf to Emily's pained calls behind you.

Some hours before

Your fingers glide smoothly over the keyboard, filling in the cells of the table before you. Each number typed corresponds to a new row.

New transaction.

5000

Deduction

0.22%

New transaction.

-How dare you???-.

Pause.

12000

Deduction

0.22%

-Mrs. Hope, perhaps your daughter should sleep with us tonight.-.

New transaction.

4r50

-I HATE YOU!!!-.

ERROR

-Goddammit!!!- You throw the keyboard on the floor, keys scattering under your desk. You rub your temples in exasperation.

You can't do this. You know you're supposed to be patient and let her make up her own mind, but you can't just sit there and continue your job while Cindy, your daughter, is somewhere outside, her world crumbling around her. What kind of mother has Amanda been? What kind have you been? You kept telling yourself you were doing it for her, that diving into work was to ensure her a happy life, because you blamed your parents for their poverty during your childhood and you didn't want her to live it too.

But what did you do instead? How could you let Cindy go through all this right under your nose? How could you be so blind? You touch your arm where she hit you. The bruise has healed, but the memory remains.

You recall being her, you remember every second. You remember her fear of you judging her for her pain. But she was right about hating you: you were the one to blame. Your daughter was living a nightmare, and you didn't even notice until it was too late. You failed her. And now you should just do your job and sort out the accounts of some rich idiot?

No. No, you refuse that. You know you should trust your sisters, but your daughter needs you, now. You have to help her, but how, since she refuses to even see you? You're just an accountant...

Your eyes glimmer behind the lenses.

Wait. Of course, how did you not think of it until now?

You grab your purse and keys, and quickly run down the stairs of your building, reaching the parking lot. You skid through the streets, your mind racing and your heart pounding in your chest.

The Gatelys. Yes, they can change everything. You worked for them years ago for a very long period: the two entrepreneurs, philanthropists, monopolists in the domestic economic management market; on the surface, at least. Because, as you remember now while burning through an orange light, being a scrupulous accountant, you soon realized that they were involved in the worst trafficking you could ever imagine: ****, weapons, prostitutes... pick one, they were into it. You could hardly believe it: Darius and Geneviève Gately, among the most renowned people in the city, were criminals, mobsters, if not the mobsters of the city.

But numbers never lie, and those numbers were telling you the truth. You could have, nay, you should have reported them to the police. But then, who would pay your bills? How would you afford Cindy's tuition? You had to think about your business first, and play the hero later, maybe. And so you did; and you hadn't bothered to denounce them even when you terminated your employment with them.

What an example you've been for Cindy, huh? You, you should have been the one on that roof, not her. Now, however, it's your chance to make something good out of your mistakes: Charity will never expect to have the lawbreakers of the entire city working against her, and all you have to do now is to take the Gatelys by yourself.

You finally arrive in front of the mansion and ring at the gates. If they won't let you in, you'll slip in somehow, but surprisingly, nobody even asks who you are on the intercom, and they just let you in. Maybe luck is on your side this once.

"Hold on, Cindy.".

You stroll down the alley, moving to the main door. You'll just pretend you're still one of their employees and that you want to talk to them about some strange movements you detected in their accounts; but the person who opens the door is clearly not one of your targets, and you doubt they're related to them in any way, since it's a raven-haired punk girl who is also possessed by you.

-Mrs. Hope!- She exclaims in surprise. -What are you doing here?-.

-I'm sorry, who are you? I mean, your body?-.

-Cassidy Reynolds, Tina Harris's schoolmate.- She introduces herself with a grunt. -I knew the people living here were rich, and I thought, why not take the lady of the house?-.

-Wait, you mean you already possessed her?- You ask in disbelief. She frowns, confirming it.

Well, that's... anti-climactic. But what really matters is that your plan worked, even without your intervention.

-And where's she?-.

-In her bedroom, sleeping. Why do you care so much about her?-.

-Because, my dear,- You cross your arms with a knowing smirk: -I'm quite sure Mr. and Mrs. Gately are the kingpins of the city's underworld, and accordingly to what you just told me, they will fight for our cause.-.

Cassidy Reynolds' eyes widen. -So, the Big Man... now I see... holy fuck...-.

-Come on, let me in.- You say, passing through her, walking toward the other source of your goo that you feel in the house, figuring it must be Geneviève Gately in her room. You don't mind Cassidy's steps behind you until they get suspiciously close. You have just a moment to figure out your thoughts before you feel an excruciating pain in your neck, like a hot coal burning your skin and sending electricity through your body.

You collapse on the floor, gasping and trembling. A taser. She tasered you. Cassidy moves in front of you, and as you struggle to lift your face off the marble floor, she kneels down, her weapon still flickering in her hand.

-W-Why?- You manage to ask.

-I'm sorry, Mrs. Hope. You chose the worst time.-.

Your head bumps against the pavement as you lose consciousness. Your daughter's image is the last thing you see before darkness overtakes you.

You wake up to the sound of the doorbell. Groggily, you look at the clock: it's only been an hour since you went to bed, but you're certainly not expecting visitors. You're tempted to send Daniel to answer, but you feel it's better to check yourself.

You slip on your slippers, wear a robe, and make your way to the front door, just in time to hear a second doorbell. You sense it's one of you.

-Yeah yeah, I'm here... oh.-.

Among everyone, you expected Kim or Tina, or maybe Esmeralda, but not her.

-Hi Trish, I-I'm sorry to bother you at this hour. I d-didn't know where else to go.-.

-Cindy, what's wrong? You look...- Miserable would be the word, but you choose a more polite term: -exhausted.-.

Cindy sniffs and shrugs. -M-My mom is missing, a-and I can't go back to Kim or Emily. C-Can I stay here for the night? I'm fine with a sofa, a cushion, I just... I don't want to be alone!-.

-Oh darling, oh dear.- You hug her tightly as she bursts into tears, sobbing some **** apologies.

-No, no need to. Come in, I'll prepare you a bed and a tisane. You're safe now.-.