Chapter two
1189 Words
Sapphire’s POV
I can swear it but that would be a little bit too extreme, but yes I can tell the universe came together to rip my family off its glory.
I stare deeply at my reflection in the mirror, my skin looks really pale and my collarbones have never been this visible until now. I can easily say I am on a diet but in truth, I haven’t had a proper meal since papa got arrested and everything we own got seized.
“Phi”
The voice of Sophia echoes from the hallway. I quickly shoved my things into the nylon bag, I took a glance at the clock hanging on the wall and I noticed that I had spent a reasonable amount of time getting ready. Sophia would be pissed at me but I don’t care, she is always angry at something so this won’t be the first time.
“On my way” I yelled back, making my way out but then she was already almost in front of my room and I cannot miss the angry glares she sends my way.
“What were you doing?” She snaps.
I took a step back “just getting ready, Phia” I replied.
Her jaw clenches. “I told you we needed to be there before visiting hours officially start. That way, we could get more time with Papa.”
Her eyes twitched in a clear state of frustration. We were twins but she was clearly more organized and put together than I was. She had taken the responsibility of the household, since papa got arrested.
Sophia brushed her shoulders against mine, storming down the hallways with her heels clicking against the marble floor. The rhythmic sound of her heels reminded me of the good old times when the house was filled with laughter and papa’s voice echoed through the hallways commanding the servants to bring more buzz.
I followed behind her silently. Unlike Sophia, I had gone with flats because I did not see the need of keeping up with the appearance when the whole city already knew about our predicament and not only that I hate to play dress up.
My fingers came in contact with the bannister as we descended the staircase. Dust clings to everything now since the workers left.
The chandeliers are still there, though. The biggest one in the foyer used to sparkle so much it gave me headaches as a kid. Now, it just hangs there like a reminder that we once had a place in the world.
We step outside into the cold morning air. The driver is gone. Of course he is. The Bentley was seized along with everything else.
Sophia unlocks the small, beat-up Toyota our uncle loaned us. I slide into the passenger seat, my hands trembling slightly. Maybe from hunger. Maybe from the thought of seeing Papa in that uniform again.
The engine sputters to life as she pulls onto the road, eyes fixed ahead.
The drive is silent for a while, until Sophia finally mutters, “You still don’t get it, do you?”
I glance at her. “Get what?”
“That this isn’t just about Papa being locked up. This is about us being finished. No one is going to save us.”
I frown. “I never said anyone would.”
She scoffs. “You still act like this is some temporary nightmare. Like we’re going to wake up and everything will go back to the way it was.”
“I’m just trying to hold it together, Sophia,” I say quietly. “That’s all.”
She doesn’t answer, but her grip on the wheel tightens.
It takes us forty-five minutes to reach the prison. Not the kind of place you get sent to for unpaid parking tickets. This is a high-security facility, barbed wire fencing and all. Men in gray uniforms patrol the gates with rifles. The kind of place you don’t just walk into you get inspected, scanned, and stared at like you’re guilty too.
We check in at the front desk. The woman behind the counter barely glances at us, her fingers flying across a keyboard.
“Room four. He’s already waiting,” she says, sliding visitor passes toward us.
I clip mine on and follow Sophia down the hallway. The smell is cold. Metallic. Like concrete, sweat and probably hopelessness because there is no freedom within these walls.
When we reach the visitation room, I stop. My heart is beating too fast, too loud and dangerously too high.
Papa sits on the other side of the glass, in a dull orange jumpsuit. He has grown a reasonable amount of side beards, his eyes looks more sunken and the bags underneath them are very noticeable.
I push open the door and take a seat across from him. Sophia sits beside me.
“Phi,” he says softly, looking at me. “You look tired.”
That’s what he notices first. Not the bags under my eyes. Not my cracked lips or shaking fingers. Just tired.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
Sophia doesn’t speak at all. She just stares at him, lips pressed into a thin line.
“How is Beatrice?” he asks, eyes flicking between us.
“She hasn’t returned,” I replied. “She hasn’t called either”
Beatrice was our stepmother, Papa had gotten married to her few years ago. He said she was to take the place of our mother but she never did and somehow I had always known that she was no less of a gold digger.
Papa nods slowly, it felt like he had expected that reply. Like he knew that she would leave but he still wanted to feed his doubts. “I’m sorry I failed you girls.”
I shake my head quickly. “No, Papa. Don’t say that.”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it? One day you’re wearing tailored suits and signing deals, and the next you’re in a cell wondering where it all went wrong.”
Sophia finally speaks. “You just happened to do business with the wrong crowd, it happens all the time in the business world… you did not fail us papa.”
He looks at her with tired eyes. “I shouldn’t have trusted those investors.”
We sat in silence after that. Words feel too small for everything that’s happened.
The guard taps his watch. “Five minutes.”
Papa leans forward. “Listen to me. Both of you. I need to get out of here…”
I feel my insides twist because I know what might come next.
“Alessandro was willing to help before I got in here.” Papa said watching over our heads, like the prison guards could hear us. “But, it is transactional.”
I frowned. “can’t he just give us a loan?” I asked.
Papa shook his head. “The money is a lot.” Papa leaned in even closer. “One of you needs to go speak to Alessandro.”
- Writer
