LISA'S POV
"Lisa, you should always stay focused, especially in difficult situations. You need to fight with your mind, not your fists. Do you understand?"
I heard Dad's voice scolding me.
"Dad!" I mumbled as I slowly fluttered my eyes open.
The first thing I noticed was my hands, which were tightly cuffed. I sighed softly and glanced from left to right, careful to keep pretending that I was unconscious.
I was sitting between two police officers in the back of a police van. I carefully tilted my head forward and spotted two more officers. One was driving, while the other seemed to be dozing off.
From the looks of things, they were probably taking me to jail.
"Lisa, always remember to think carefully before making a move. Don't make hasty decisions just because you're scared."
Dad's words echoed in my mind once again, and I smiled. I could almost picture him standing in front of me with his usual stern expression, giving me one of his endless lectures.
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head.
I could use my unconscious state to my advantage and get hold of the keys to these handcuffs.
I smiled to myself, silently praising my brain for coming up with such a brilliant idea.
I slowly opened my eyes and glanced at the police officer sitting to my right. There they were! The keys to my handcuffs were hanging from the holder attached to his belt.
A mischievous smile crept across my face.
I groaned softly and allowed my body to fall against him, still pretending to be unconscious. Dad had always taught me how to turn almost any situation to my advantage.
I kept leaning against the officer until he finally moved closer to steady me. That was my opportunity.
I managed to get hold of the keys while he was distracted.
Moments later, I had freed my hands from the handcuffs without raising any suspicion.
I smirked.
"Let the game begin," I whispered.
I finally raised my head and looked ahead.
"You're probably all wondering how I ended up in this hellhole. Well, it all started here..."
ONE MONTH EARLIER
"Lisa, why can't you be happy for me for once in your life?" Mum asked.
"Mum, how do you expect me to be happy for you when you're getting married to a complete stranger? Someone you met just a few weeks ago who suddenly claims to love you?" I yelled angrily.
"Watch your tone, young lady! He loves me, and he's not a stranger. He's your new father, and you're coming with me to his house because that's where we'll be living from now on. If you refuse to come with me, that's fine. You can go ahead and get yourself a job because the rent on this apartment has expired."
With that, Mum walked into her room, probably to pack her belongings.
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.
My mother was unbelievable!
It hadn't even been two months since Dad died, and she had already moved on. Not only that, she was willing to marry someone she had known for barely a few weeks.
I slumped onto the couch, picked up my phone and dialled my best friend's number. She answered after two rings.
"Hey, girl! What's up?" she greeted me in her usual cheerful voice.
Mira had been my best friend since I was ten. She had stood by me through some of the darkest and most miserable moments of my life. She was also the one who comforted me when Dad died, because Mum couldn't seem to care less.
"I'm not fine, Mira. Nothing is fine," I replied in a groggy voice.
"Hmm! What's wrong, Lis? I've never heard you sound like this before," she said worriedly.
"Can you believe that my mum is getting married? And now we have to move in with her new husband. I hate being a minor!" I complained in frustration.
Yes, I hated being a minor. If I were already eighteen, I could get a job, take care of myself and pay my own rent instead of depending on my mother.
"Wow! So you're getting a new dad? Being a minor isn't all that bad, you know. At least you won't have to worry about rent and all those other things teenagers have to think about. Just go to school, get good grades, eat, bathe, watch TV and browse the internet," Mira said, sounding far less concerned than I expected.
I wondered what nonsense she was talking about.
But then again, I couldn't blame her. Mira came from a wealthy family, and her parents were incredibly caring. When Dad was alive, everything had been perfect for me. Even though Mum hardly paid attention to me, Dad always made sure I had everything I needed.
But now that he was gone, I had to start figuring things out on my own.
"I'll be damned if I ever call that man my father! Damn this country's laws! How is it possible that a minor can go to jail but can't get a job?" I exclaimed, my anger evident in my voice.
"Well, that's one more thing to add to our list of disadvantages of being a minor: staying out of trouble," Mira said with a giggle.
I sighed.
"I just wish Dad were here right now. Everything would have been so much easier, and I wouldn't have to worry about any of this."
"You know my doors are always open to you, Lis. There's always room for one more person in this house. My parents would be over the moon if they found out you were coming to stay with us. They might even decide to adopt you as their daughter," Mira offered.
"Thanks, love. But you know I have to stay with Mum. I still don't trust this stranger, and besides, I don't want to become a burden to anyone," I replied.
"I understand, girlfriend. But if things ever get too difficult, you know where to find me," she said cheerfully.
"Alright, Mira. Thanks a lot. I'll talk to you later. I need to pack my things," I said before ending the call.
THREE WEEKS LATER
It had been exactly three weeks since my mother married Diego, her new husband and my stepfather. I had been living with them ever since.
Something about this man didn't sit right with me, and I was determined to find out what he was hiding.
I had searched almost every corner of the house, but there were two places I hadn't been able to access.
One particular room was always locked, and I was determined to find out what was inside.
I had already come up with a plan to get my hands on the key, and today was the day I intended to uncover his secret.
There was also a particular compartment in his bedroom that required a passcode to open. It looked like an ordinary drawer, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get it open without the code.
I had noticed that Diego always carried a small journal wherever he went. He never seemed to let it out of his sight, and I strongly suspected that the passcode was written somewhere inside it.
So, my first mission was to get my hands on that journal.
And how exactly was I planning to do that?
Well, Dad always used to say that a person's favourite food could be their greatest weakness.
Diego loved freshly made orange juice and homemade cookies.
So, I decided to put that knowledge to good use.
"Today, I'm going to play the role of the sweet, obedient daughter," I muttered to myself before getting to work.
Luckily for me, baking was one of my many talents.
And I was very good at it.