SCARS

An Ordinary Day

CHAPTER FOUR

Anastasia's POV

My phone started ringing at eight in the morning.

I groaned and reached for it without opening my eyes. When I saw Alina's name on the screen, I considered ignoring the call. Unfortunately, my best friend wasn't the type to give up easily.

“Good morning to you too, Alina,” I mumbled as I answered.

“Don't tell me you're still in bed,” she said disapprovingly.

I opened one eye and glanced at the clock. “It's eight o'clock. What's your problem?”

“Normal people don't make plans and then behave as though those plans are a personal attack.”

I chuckled lightly, pulling the blanket over my head. “You talk too much.”

“And you complain too much. Get up, Anastasia. I'm giving you thirty minutes.”

“Alina—”

She ended the call.

I stared at my phone in disbelief before tossing it onto the bed. How I had managed to become friends with someone who considered giving orders a hobby was still a mystery to me.

Nevertheless, I got up.

After bathing and dressing, I stood before the mirror, fastening my earrings. My reflection looked familiar, but my thoughts were elsewhere. The stranger's voice from the previous evening kept returning to me, along with Mama's frightened expression and the way she had closed Father's desk drawer.

I sighed and adjusted my hair.

Whatever had happened, I wasn't going to spend the entire day thinking about it.

Downstairs, the house was already busy. One of my siblings complained about breakfast while another searched for something that had apparently been sitting in plain sight. The housekeeper tried to restore order, insisting that shouting wouldn't make the food cook any faster.

I chuckled at their argument as I entered the dining room.

For a moment, everything felt normal again.

“Anastasia,” Mama called.

I turned towards her. “Good morning, Mama.”

“Where are you going?”

“I'm meeting Alina.”

She paused, studying me over the rim of her teacup. “What time will you be back?”

“Early afternoon, probably.”

“Call me if your plans change.”

I nodded and reached for a piece of toast. Neither of us mentioned the previous evening, and I decided not to start an argument before breakfast.

As I collected my bag, Mama called my name again.

“Be careful.”

I looked at her curiously. “I will, Mama.”

She seemed about to say something else, but she changed her mind and returned to her tea.

I left the house wondering what she had wanted to tell me.

---

Alina was waiting outside the café when I arrived. She stood near the entrance, scrolling through her phone, her expression growing more impatient by the second.

The moment she spotted me, she slipped her phone into her bag.

“Finally! Do you know how long I've been waiting?”

I glanced at my wristwatch and raised an eyebrow. “Seven minutes?”

She placed a hand against her chest in exaggerated offence. “Seven whole minutes, Anastasia.”

I burst into laughter. “You're unbelievable.”

She chuckled and pulled me into a hug before stepping back to examine my face.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly. “You look tired.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Thank you. That's exactly what every girl wants to hear.”

“I'm serious,” she insisted, her smile fading slightly.

I adjusted the strap of my bag. “I've just had a long week.”

Alina studied me for another moment before taking my hand and pulling me towards the entrance.

“Fine. You can tell me about your long week after I've eaten. I'm too hungry to conduct an emotional investigation.”

That made me laugh again.

We settled at a table near the window and ordered breakfast. Alina spent the next several minutes telling me about an argument she'd witnessed, a dress she wanted to buy, and a film she insisted I absolutely had to watch.

She was explaining why the main character deserved better when she suddenly snapped her fingers.

“Wait! Your birthday!”

I lowered my fork. “What about it?”

“Have you decided what you're doing?”

“Not really.”

She stared at me as though I'd just announced that I intended to cancel my own existence. “Anastasia, you're turning eighteen. We can't let the day pass like it's any other day.”

I smiled faintly. “I wasn't planning to.”

“Good, because I've already started thinking about what we could do.”

I shook my head, chuckling. “Of course you have.”

“Someone has to organise your life.”

“You can barely organise your own.”

She gasped, and I laughed so hard that I had to put my fork down.

For a few precious minutes, I forgot about the stranger and the questions waiting for me at home. I was simply Anastasia, enjoying breakfast with my best friend.

Then Alina's expression softened.

“Are you sure you're okay?” she asked quietly, reaching across the table to touch my hand. “You've been distracted all morning.”

I looked down at our hands.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“If you discovered that someone you loved had hidden something important from you, would you want to know the truth?”

Alina tilted her head thoughtfully. “That depends on what they were hiding.”

“What if knowing changed everything?”

She squeezed my hand gently. “Then I'd want to know why they thought I couldn't handle it.”

I stared at her, wondering whether I should tell her what had happened.

Before I could decide, my phone vibrated beside my plate.

A message from Mama appeared.

"Come straight home after you're finished with Alina. We need to talk."

My smile disappeared.

Alina noticed immediately. “What happened?” she asked, her brows drawing together in concern.

I turned the phone over. “Nothing. I just need to get home earlier than I planned.”

She looked unconvinced but didn't push me. We finished breakfast, and she accompanied me towards the car park before hugging me goodbye.

“Call me later, okay?” she said.

“I will.”

“And Anastasia?”

I turned back.

“If something is bothering you, you can tell me. You don't have to handle everything alone.”

Her words touched me more than I expected. I smiled and nodded before leaving.

---

The journey home felt unusually long. I reread Mama's message several times, trying to guess what she wanted to discuss.

When I arrived, I found her waiting in the sitting room. A second cup of tea sat untouched on the table.

She looked up as I entered.

“Sit down, Anastasia.”

I placed my bag beside the sofa and sat opposite her, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap.

For several seconds, she remained silent.

“Mama?” I asked, growing impatient. “What is it?”

She drew a deep breath and looked directly at me.

“There's something about your father that you need to understand before your birthday.”

My heart began to beat faster.

“What is it?” I whispered.

Mama glanced towards the window before returning her gaze to mine.

“Three years ago, when your father died, there were things I chose not to tell you.”

I swallowed, barely daring to breathe.

“Like what?”

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the teacup.

“Anastasia, I need you to listen carefully. What I'm about to tell you may change the way you remember your father.”

I stared at her, waiting for her to continue.