Second Chance

A kid wanted

Do I look happy about this?!" Zena yelled as Louis ran his fingers through his hair.

The whole fight started because Zena accidentally bumped into Louis, and it seemed like he was blaming her. Now she was in full meltdown mode.

I turned my gaze away from their chaos and nervously chewed on my fingers, trying to figure out my next move.

Then it hit me.

"I’ll cover it," I said, cutting Zena off mid-rant about Louis’s rock-hard abs. Louis raised an eyebrow, stepping closer until we were just inches apart. "You’re going to cover what?" he asked.

"The 3.5 billion," I answered, acting confident even though I was totally bluffing. He shifted his stance and looked at Zena, telling her, "Open the doors."

She rolled her eyes and plopped down on the sofa, crossing her legs. "Do I look like your maid?

He sighed and walked to the door himself, hands in pockets till Zena suddenly rushed at him, pushing him aside and opening the door herself.

I looked at both of them in confusion, not because of whatever she just did right now, but because I couldn't understand why they were opening the door, was he expecting someone?

"Leave, Louis commanded, "And bring the money here by sundown.

I glanced at him and then at the open door, and I felt a rush of excitement. I jumped up and hurried to the door, feeling grateful for my crazy luck.

Then it hit me again. Why was he just letting me walk away? I could easily tell the cops or just vanish. What was he thinking?

I left without saying a word, curious about why he didn't stop me, but also eager to get out of there as fast as possible. It had been a while since I'd felt that kind of fear.

Not even when Oscar had touched me.

I saw him close the door behind me, and it left me feeling uneasy. He didn’t say another word, and that really creeped me out.

As I strolled out the main gates and stepped onto the empty road, the breeze played with my skirt. Suddenly, I felt a little tug at my ankle. I looked down and saw a small boy with big, innocent eyes.

“Food,” he insisted, like it was my job to feed him. At first, I thought he might be homeless, but his tuxedo was spotless and well-pressed, which told a different story.

"Look for your mom, Kid. I don't give food, I take", I said and kept walking on my way, looking back at the mansion every now and then.

The loud whine of a spoiled kid hit my ears, making me regret not ignoring the kid when I had the chance. "Where's your mom?" I asked, squatting down to his height and kinda sacrificing my foot for this 3'6" tall guy.

He crossed his arms and looked the other way, saying, “I don’t have a mom, and I don’t want one.” I stared at him for a moment, wondering if his dad had told him to say that. He looked a bit down, though.

“Okay, then where's your dad?” I asked. “Follow me,” he said, leading the way toward a mansion. I clenched my teeth and counted to ten to stop myself from giving this kid a physical lesson on manners.

He stopped at Louis’s house and pointed. “My dad’s in there,” he announced. I frowned in confusion—was his dad a servant or was this kid's imagination just running wild?

“What’s he doing in there?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The kid put his hands on his hips and scoffed again, “I don’t know, maybe a meeting with Superman or something. But it doesn’t matter, I’m hungry!”

I sighed and ruffled his hair, "I ain't got no food for you kid, you should've joined your dad to meet Superman".

He was quiet for a moment, just staring at me like I was some kind of puzzle to solve. And then, right on cue, he did what kids did best.

He started crying.

I quickly grabbed him and covered his mouth—listening to a spoiled kid wail wasn't really my idea of fun. I slipped some cash into his hands and put a finger to his lips.

"You can go buy food now," I said with a grin, playfully pinching his cheeks, hoping he'd skip off somewhere.

"This isn’t food!" he shouted, tossing the money at me and looking away. I picked up the bills and stuffed them in my pocket, taking his hand.

"You're a bad guy! I’ll tell my dad!" he yelled as I started leading him away, glancing around to make sure no one thought I was k********g him. But honestly, the kid seemed to have accepted his fate because he just surrendered and followed me.

"I'm not taking you anywhere," I told him, still holding onto him. "I still want food," he shot back.

I placed him on a bench, tired of his antics. We weren't far from the mansion, so I could easily take him back whenever, but that was still a problem: I couldn't just leave a kid on these empty streets.

"I don’t have any food right now. Your dad will be back soon, so just hang tight, okay?" I begged, feeling like I might actually kneel down. The kid stayed quiet for a bit and then nodded, swinging his legs on the bench.

"What’s your name?" I asked, softening my voice a little.

"Cassandra," he replied, fiddling with his sleeves. "I know it sounds girly."

"What?! Not at all!" I said. "There’s no such thing as a girly name."

Just then, a loud noise came from nearby—undoubtedly from the mansion. A guy in a black suit stepped out, holding a silver briefcase and looking like he was searching for something or someone.

"Cassan!" he yelled, and the little boy next to me jumped up and ran over, waving goodbye to me. The man took his hand as Cassan pointed in my direction and told him something.

Then, he handed Cassan a piece of paper, and Cassan rushed back to me, saying, "I’m not hungry anymore," handing me the piece of paper before rejoining the man.

They strolled off into the sunset, and I was just left there, totally amazed and a bit confused. I hadn't experienced anything like that in ages, and honestly, I missed it.

I unfolded the piece of paper to find a phone number along with a short note. I couldn’t help but grin, thinking it was probably that little troublemaker's idea.

Until I read the letter, that is.

“Mrs Kourtney Millers, I can help you pay the 3.5 billion.”