His Favorite Sin

4.2: ALL THAT WAS LOST

Present

The scent of Drew’s lavender body wash had always eased Cora into a state of calmness whenever they cuddled at night in bed. She could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest below her while he had one muscular arm loosely holding her close. Her eyes strayed up to admire his face as he slept quietly, and she was tempted to reach out and trace the sharp angles of his jaw with her fingers. Instead, she sighed and silently peeled herself from him to get out of bed.

Making sure not to wake him up, she took one last peek at him before going over to the desk in the corner, picked up the piled pieces of documents on it, and then sneaked out without a sound. She easily navigated her way through the dark and made it to her little balcony, where the air was welcoming and the moon luminescent. Crammed into the corner was a lounge bench with strings of little light bulbs lined above it, perfect to sit and relax while she propped both her feet on the soft cushions.

The scenery of the city and its many lights had always been breathtaking to Cora, with the high-rise buildings particularly eye-catching as they were lit up like a sea of Christmas lights. As a kid, Cora had always dreamt of living in a big city with an exciting job that allowed her to explore and wander about like Andrea Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada. But then, as she grew older, she realized she preferred fiction to magazines.

Well, she did fulfill her dream of being in a big city, just not the way she wanted it to go.

If anyone lived the same way that Cora had for the past six years, they would first roll through chapters of misery brought about by mental distress. First, it was fear; fear of being caught, of never being able to truly hide away from what she was running from. The Dvoraks, being who they were, must have eyes everywhere, so how exactly would one hide away from people like that? Seemed like an impossible task. So, for a long time, Cora believed they were just playing a game of cat and mouse, where the cat played with its prey before pouncing. She couldn’t believe she really got away.

The thing about living with fear for a long time is that it can be tormenting. One is always looking over their shoulder, being overly cautious, skittish like a horse, easily spooked... It messes with the mind until all that is left is a shadow of one’s former self — weak and despondent. For Cora, it feasted on her will and determination until, suddenly, she stopped to care, and that’s when regret came in; regret that she had let sentiment prevail and taken up a job of helping a “poor” blind kid. Regret for the things she could have had, the life she could have had. She had to leave school behind, her nana, the only family she had, the few friends she had, her dreams!

It was at this point, as she mulled over loss and all she could have had, that the anger started to seep in, quiet at first, like a boom-slang’s venom, slowly moving through the bloodstream, taking its time, poisoning her from the inside. She lashed out at the smallest of things, and by the time it consumed her whole, all that was left was hate. Hatred so calm, deep, and profound that Cora went out and bought a gun. She hadn’t even thought twice about it. Life had dealt her the shittiest of hands, and just like William Cowper once wrote, hatred and vengeance became her eternal potion. She wanted every Dvorak dead, the monsters among them, till she had had justice and was contented.

But all of that faded into a mist when, one day, she was scrolling through news articles and discovered a headline, one that quietly announced the death of Mr. Ben Dvorak.

The Country’s Biggest Agripreneur Mysteriously Found Dead on His Property

Just like that, Cora was stripped of all those negative emotions and became numb. It was shocking to read the news. And, as always, the article provided as little insight into the family as possible. Only reported on the death, covered a few details about the burial, and a brief history of the family’s farming business.

The next day, Cora began packing again and resolved to move to a new city, starting afresh for the third and final time in four years. She found an apartment that went unnoticed in the chaotic city, locked herself indoors for months, and then poured out all that she had been holding in, into manuscript after manuscript, mostly as short stories and novellas. Her memories from the mansion, her ignorance of the truth, all the horrors, all came out in a fierce outburst with her keyboard. It took her months, and she felt much lighter at the end. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted her stories out there, to share with the world. She had been silent and alone for too long. So, she began looking for an agent, and that was how she found Tammy.

Tammy had suggested that she merge some of her short stories together and create a collection out of them, so she handpicked the ones she preferred most and handed them over to Tammy. It seemed like she was getting her life back, little by little, and all hope wasn’t lost. More than two years later, having not found a publisher interested, she began desperately seeking a real job. Running and hiding for so long had depleted all her accounts, and once more, all sense of hope seemed to be lost. Her dreams were slipping through her fingers like grains of sand until a few weeks ago, when Tammy announced a company’s interest in her book.

She should have known it was too good to be true. Good things never lasted when it came to her. It had always been like that for her. Just when things got a bit better, it suddenly all took a dive to the ground and under.

True to Lance’s words, Isabel had sent over the contract for Cora’s book within the week. Before Isabel came, Cora couldn’t count the number of times she packed, then unpacked, packed again, only to unpack. One part of her mind kept yelling at her to run! But the other, more logical part always asked, ‘Then what?’ Lance had already made it clear that if she wanted to be safe from his family, then she needed to run very far, farther than she ever had. And she was terribly low on funds to afford that. It made her wonder if they had always known where she was from the start.

Money aside, Lance had been subtle about it, but he had also threatened her with Drew and Tammy that night, and she kept asking herself, would he hurt them just to get to her? Tammy and Drew were the closest thing she had to family here. They were everything to her. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if anything were to happen to them. She could risk her life, but not theirs.

Lance knew what he was doing. He had been very vague, leaving her to wrestle with her thoughts instead of receiving answers that only he could provide.

Cora had eventually picked up the contract and went through it multiple times, even downloaded a legal dictionary to make sense of the legal terms. She had to read some parts about five times and let the legal terms swirl around in her head before she finally understood half of what they said. The contract was a fine-print prison meant to seize every right to her work and grant it exclusively to Starling House. According to it, her work would undergo some editing process to get it “polished” for print, and the editing process could include the plot being refined, the characters, scenes... all with her consent. Of course, they added that, but then they also added another clause that made the company’s opinions trump hers. They made it seem like she would have control over her work in editing and publishing, but reading between the lines, she knew she wouldn’t.

Essentially, they would own the book. And they could even decide not to have the work published. They were extorting her of her full right! She would be a fool to agree to this, but did she have a choice? Her stories were about her experiences in the mansion, which was why Lance wanted them, so he could control her narrative. He was clearly worried that his family’s misdeeds would come to light with the publication of her book. And if Lance Dvorak wanted exclusive rights to her book, he would have it. She did ponder why he didn’t just kill her instead, which would save him a lot of trouble.

He had said she could negotiate with Isabel, but Cora wondered how many changes she would actually be allowed to make. What even was the essence when, at the end of the day, Lance would get what he wanted? If she gave him what he wanted, would he and his family finally leave her alone? He hadn’t killed her yet, so maybe he had no intention to, because if he wanted her dead, she knew she already would be.

‘My snoring chased you out of bed?’ Drew’s voice pulled Cora from her pondering thoughts to where he stood shirtless at the entrance of the balcony. He had one arm propped on the doorframe as he gazed down at her with sexy, lazy eyes.

She smiled back at him, ‘You don’t snore.’

‘I know.’ He graced her with a smug grin before stepping out and coming to plop his large form beside her on the bench. She hugged her bare knees closer to her chest to protect herself from the chilly night air because Drew’s hoodie only stopped mid-thigh for her. Drew was unbothered by the chill, even though he only had on a pair of shorts.

‘What were you doing out here?’

‘Just thinking.’ She sighed as he pulled her into his warmth.

‘What about?’

Cora wanted to pour out every thought of hers to him, so she wouldn’t feel so alone in tackling this, but instead, she shook her head against his chest.

‘Nothing. I already have it figured out.’ She shut him out like she always did, and she felt his muscles tense beneath her, but he kept quiet. They both remained silent, together watching the city lights twinkle in the near and far distance.

Truthfully, she was tired of running, hiding, and being so secretive. She wanted a normal life, and perhaps she now had the chance to have it if she played her cards right, so when Tammy arrived the next day, fuming about the outrageous terms of the contract, all Cora said was, ‘I will sign it.’

‘What?’ Tammy appeared taken aback.

‘I said I will sign it. Let them know.’ Cora shrugged, and Tammy blinked back at her, nonplussed.

Tammy shook her head, ‘Cora, this is my job. Let me handle it, okay? There’s no way you’re signing something like this. These terms are preposterous! A publishing company should never ask for the rights they’re requesting from you. They basically leave you with nothing. And let’s not even begin to talk about the duration. I know the money is extremely tempting, but you have to understand how—’

‘Tammy–’

‘No, Cora!’ Tammy slammed the documents in her hand on the coffee table. ‘As a matter of fact, I don’t think we should even go ahead with them anymore. Let’s totally forget them. I will get you a better company that won’t be such a—’

‘Tammy, just stop!’ Cora stood up, halting her from her angry pacing. Tammy spun to her, out of breath and baffled. ‘I’ve made my decision. You have to trust me, please! I need you to trust me, okay? This is my choice," Cora noted, and Tammy appeared even more puzzled at her determination as she left no room for argument.

‘Do you understand what you’re saying? This is your hard-earned work.’

‘Yes, I do.’ Cora replied in a monotone. Tammy’s eyes sought hers for answers, and even though unsatisfied, Tammy had no choice but to resign.

‘I will contact Isabel. But I don’t support this,’ Tammy added, shaking her head.

‘One thing though.’ Cora stopped her before she could march away. ‘I want a meeting with Lance Dvorak first, then I will sign.’

Cora surprised Tammy with her demand, but she had mulled it over and over again. Maybe she could get her life back, make a trade for it so she wouldn’t have to run and change her name every one or two years, hide and live alone from the rest of the world, be afraid every time someone looked at her more than once in the street, or even made eye contact with her. She could finally be free, and this was her opportunity. Cora was willing to take the risk.