THE BLACK LIMOUSINE
1013 Words
The wind drifted through the trees in the quiet park.
Lola didn’t move. She just sat there, stuck to the wooden bench, her phone pressed against her ear. Victor Hale’s last words looped in her mind:
It is time to come home.
Home? That word felt wrong now. Foreign. Because Lola had just lost what she thought was her only home. The Carter Mansion. She’d lived there for three years, married to Daniel. But now, even that place was no longer hers. She tightened her grip on the phone.
“What are you talking about?” she said, voice slow and wary.
Victor sounded cool and unshaken. “You’ll understand soon.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No,” he replied, just as calm. “But it’s the truth.”
Lola got up and started pacing along the park’s path, her bare feet numb against the cold pavement.
“You’re telling me my whole life is a lie,” she said, quiet but unsteady. “And I’m supposed to believe you?”
Victor didn’t get rattled. “Just listen.”
It was hard to argue with how sure he sounded. Lola rubbed at her forehead.
“Why now?”
There was a pause. Then Victor said, “Because nothing ties you to that life anymore.”
Her chest felt tight. She knew what he meant without needing it spelled out. Daniel. The divorce. The shame. The miscarriage. Everything had crashed and burned tonight.
Victor kept going. “Your marriage is over.”
“Yes.”
“Your tie to the Carter family is gone.”
“Yes.”
“And the truth about who you are can’t be hidden anymore.”
She stopped. “What truth?”
Victor waited a beat, then said something that gave her goosebumps.
“Look behind you.”
She froze. Her heart hammered in her chest as she slowly turned around. The street beside the park lay mostly empty. Just a few fuzzy streetlights flickering over the pavement. Everything looked normal at first—then she caught a pair of headlights. Big, bright, moving closer.
A long black limousine rolled up to the curb, its body gleaming in the sickly yellow glow. The engine barely made a sound. It stopped right by the park’s entrance.
Lola stared. Who drives a limo around here?
Her stomach twisted. She murmured, “What is this?” into the phone.
Victor’s answer was simple: “Your ride.”
She didn’t get a chance to say anything. The back door swung open. Out stepped a man in a flawless black suit and white gloves. His posture was perfect, like the drivers she’d seen standing outside hotels—the expensive kind, not the ones she’d ever stayed at.
He circled the car and stopped in front of Lola, then bowed. Polite, almost too formal. “Good evening,” he said, voice steady and low.
Lola just stared. She felt lost. She kept the phone pressed to her ear.
Victor’s voice was gentle. “Miss Hart.”
“Yes?” she said, barely more than a breath.
“The man in front of you works for your family.”
The word ‘family’ hit like a punch.
“My... family?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at the chauffeur, who was waiting under the streetlight, hands calmly folded. Just waiting. Lola slowly lowered the phone.
“What’s going on?” she demanded out loud.
Victor’s voice stayed steady. “You’re about to find out.”
She looked from the limo to the man and back again. This was crazy.
“I don’t have a family,” she said, almost to herself.
The chauffeur stepped closer, still polite. “Miss Hart.” His tone sounded...familiar, somehow, as if he’d been waiting for her for a long time.
She frowned. “Yes?”
He dipped his head again and said the words that made her heart stop: “Young Miss.”
The phrase sounded wrong. Out of place, like it belonged in someone else’s story.
She blinked at him. “You’ve got the wrong person.”
He shook his head, steady as ever. “No. I don’t.”
The wind picked up. Strands of Lola’s hair whipped across her face. She stared at the man, trying to make sense of any of this.
“You called me...what?”
“Young Miss.” He sounded so certain.
She frowned harder. “No one’s ever called me that.”
He gave her a faint smile. “That’s because you’ve been gone a long time.”
A shiver ran through her. The phone was still open in her hand, and Victor’s voice sounded again.
“Miss Hart.”
She lifted the phone. “Yes?”
“Get into the car.”
She looked back at the limo. Her reflection stared back at her from the glossy paint—pale, tired, anxious.
“This is insane.”
Victor didn’t argue. “Maybe. But if you walk away, you’ll never know the truth about your past.”
Her heart pounded louder. “And if I do get in?”
Victor’s answer came flat, sure: “Your life will change forever.”
Lola hesitated. Everything felt unreal. Strangers, secrets, a limousine, all out of thin air... Yet something inside her chest stirred. Curiosity, and something else—like she’d just stepped into the first page of a story she’d never seen coming.
She walked toward the car. The chauffeur moved to open the rear door. Inside, the limo was pure luxury—soft leather, gold-toned lights, air sweet with expensive perfume. Nothing at all like her old life before Daniel.
She turned to the driver. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
He caught her eye, his voice dropping. “We were sent to bring you home.”
Her heart squeezed. “My home burned down years ago.”
He shook his head. “No, Young Miss.” He sounded so confident.
Then he said the words that took her breath away: “Your grandfather is waiting.”
- Writer
