Chapter 4- A Last Hope
1412 Words
It rained all night. The morning was cold, dew everywhere. It took a while before a clear sky appeared. I kept staring at my phone hoping I'd get a call from my dad's lawyer all through the night.
I kept staring at my ceiling. “Is this the end of my life?” I thought to myself, I wish my mom was here. She would know what to do. Tears rolled down my eyes.
I tossed on my bed over a hundred times. I picked up my phone and called Isabella. We talked about casual life and everything. Isabella wasn't perfect, but she always had her way to someone's heart. I needed that to clear my head.
The doorbell rang through. I rushed downstairs, expecting my dad's lawyer. It wasn't him. It was Dante.
“What now?” I opened the door slightly.
"You should let me in," he said, requesting entry. I reluctantly stepped aside. He owns the apartment now.
He walked in calmly, and the atmosphere immediately changed. It was irritating how easily he could occupy space.
"Is my time up?" I asked.
"Not yet," he said, walking around the room.
"Not yet?" I asked again, surprised.
He lifted his eyes, staring at me, searching—looking for what was there.
"Our situation is more complicated," he said, walking towards me.
“Our situation?” I thought out loud. The words settled heavily between us.
"Elara," he said calmly, almost comforting, "your father caused this."
"That's my father's business," I raised my voice. My mother had always taught me not to show fear in whatever situation—to attack it head-on.
"You inherited responsibility," he replied, so calmly. Why wasn't he upset? Why was he so calm about this? Is this a game to him? I owed my freedom, and my life was on the line here, and he's so calm about it.
"I inherited nothing from him."
"That," he said quietly, "is where you're wrong."
Space filled the room. We stood there, staring at each other. Some part of his eyes spoke pity, but the other part wasn't going to let me escape this.
"Keep to your commitments just like your father," he said, raising his brows and giving me a pitiful look.
***********
Dante's presence still lingered around even though he had left, so I looked around the house.
It wasn't my home anymore.
All my father could leave behind was this massive debt that required a whole life of servitude to repay.
Am I really going to lose everything? My job? My friend? Most importantly, my freedom. The one I spent years finding.
My phone beeped. Isabella sent a voice message:
"Hey, girl. It's Saturday already, when should I pick you up from the train station?” Her voice brought relief “Oh, we finally got a match for you. You'd love him”. Just call as soon as you get this message."
The beep stopped. For every party Isabella goes to, she always has a match for me, I chuckled.
I dialed my dad's lawyer's number. I tried it a couple of times. It finally rang.
"Hello?" His voice was uncertain.
"Hello? You need to tell me something," I said almost immediately. "The clock is ticking, and I don't have time anymore."
"The documents are valid Elara, there's nothing I can do.”
The call ended before I could ask another question.
I lowered the phone slowly and stared at the screen. That was it, No reassurance, no explanation.
I walked calmly to the kitchen hoping to find some food.
“There's nothing i can do,” those words kept ringing in my head. The one person i had hopes on
I scrambled some eggs to go with the remaining leftover bread. I stared at the plates of eggs as I walked to my room
“All my hopes scrambled in a plate,” I laughed painfully.
After eating, I took the keys and the letter the lawyer gave me. I walked to my Dad's home office.
I opened it immediately.
There were papers everywhere, the room had a dusty smell, cigarettes carefully arranged on his table. I burst into tears, this was it, my life hanging on a thin thread.
I opened the letter, “ I'm so sorry, my little angel, daddy, made bad choices. I never wished to drag you into this”. I cried “ Call this number. He would be able to do something. I'm so so sorry baby”. He was sorry?He had no idea how much my life was ruined.
With tears in my eyes, I quickly dialed the number, it rang for a few minutes.
Then someone answered.
"Elara?" The voice was deep and unfamiliar.
My grip tightened around the phone. “ I need help” my voice sounded raspy.
He kept quiet for some time. For a moment, I thought the call had disconnected.
Then the man spoke.
"I've been expecting your call."
Same thing the lawyer said, i really hope he can help me. This was my last straw.
"You know who I am?"
"I know enough." He didn't hesitate.
"Who are you?"
Another pause "Now is not the time" he said.
I need help," I said quietly. "My father left behind a debt, and—"
"I know."
My heart pounded.
If he knew, then he knew about Dante.He knew about everything.
"Can you help me?" I asked.
The silence stretched between us, Finally, he sighed.
"I can buy you some time."
Time, he was going to buy me something i thought was up, The same thing Dante seemed determined to take away from me.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you need to remain calm."
Did he just asked me to remain calm, My life was falling apart, I had lost my father,I was losing my home.
And now I was speaking to a complete stranger who sounded like he knew more about my life than I did.
"There are things happening that you don't understand yet," he continued.
"Then explain them to me." Finally someone was being blunt about the truth.
"I can't."He answered too quickly.
"Why not?" I asked, frustrated.
"Because some truths are safer when they're revealed at the right time."
"What am I supposed to do?" I whispered.
"For now, nothing."
“Nothing?” I asked, I thought he was supposed to help me, I have one day left and I should do nothing?. The word sounded impossible.
"I'll make a few arrangements," he continued. "You should receive a message soon."
"A message about what?"
"How to leave NYC”. He spoke calmly "You don't have much time, Elara."
The way he said my name made me shiver.
"Who exactly are you?" I asked again.
A faint chuckle came through the line.
"Someone who owed your father a favor."
Before I could ask another question, the line went dead.
I stared at my phone long after the call ended, The screen had already gone dark, but I couldn't stop looking at it.
The conversation had lasted only a few minutes, yet somehow everything felt different.
The man hadn't told me his name, He hadn't explained how he knew my father.
He hadn't answered a single question, Yet somehow I believed him.
A strange uneasiness settled over me.I walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside, The rain had stopped.
Water droplets clung to the glass while pale sunlight pushed through the clouds.
Outside, people moved through their day as if nothing had changed.
Meanwhile, my entire world was crumbling.
I rested my forehead against the cool glass.
"Dad," I whispered.
The word caught painfully in my throat.
“Who were you?” I said with tears rolling down my eyes.
The question haunted me.
For years, I thought I knew everything about my father.
Now it seemed everyone else knew more about him than I did.
My phone vibrated again, I looked down instantly. It was a message from Isabella.
“Are you okay? You've been quiet all day”.
I stared at the text. For a brief moment, I considered telling her everything.
But the stranger's warning echoed inside my head.
I locked my phone and slipped it into my
pocket.
Soon, I might have to leave this city.
And for the first time since my father's death, I realized his death wasn't the end of the story—it was only the beginning
- Writer
