Chapter Three
Stephanie
I wrap myself in the duvet and shudder at the cold, earthy smell sweeping into my nose, along with the howling noise roaring in my ears. I rise from my bed to close the windows, and the gloomy sky steals my attention as I glance outside.
"Thank God I have no business with anything outdoors today," I mutter with a yawn. I dash back to my bed, grab my pillow, and place it beneath my head. I exhale softly and shut my eyes.
Then I hear knocking on my door — a voice intense yet familiar. I rarely hear knocks because the people I live with love barging into my room without permission. I jolt up. My legs feel unsteady as I walk toward the door.
I open it to see my stepsister, Nelly, frowning at me. I sigh deeply.
"Mom!" Nelly screams.
The devil is back again — this is her way of thanking me for bringing her makeup kit to the airport the other day.
"Mom, come here now!" she yells again, and my stepmom, Claire, appears in the doorway.
"Baby, what is the matter?" Mom Claire asks, scrutinizing Nelly.
"Mom, she locked her door, and I've been knocking since. My knuckles are hurting," she says, showing Mom her hand. I roll my eyes and take a step forward. She grabs my hair from behind.
"Ah—ah! Let go of me!" I bawl.
"Yeah, Mom, teach her a lesson," she says brazenly, as Mom drags my hair, making me fall hard to the floor.
She finally lets go of my hair.
"Hey, witch. Go to the convenience store and get me a new pack of cigarettes," she says, then hisses, blowing a bubble with her gum. It spreads across her lips before she rolls it back in with her tongue.
"But Mom, the weather is terrible. It's still raining heavily outside. I'll go when the rain stops," I say, my voice trembling.
"Don't call my mom your mom. Stop daydreaming — I'm not sharing my mother with you," Nelly snaps, her stare sharp.
"Do you have a death wish? Should I help you get to the grave quickly? Now get going." Mom Claire snaps. She grabs Nelly's hand as they walk out of the room.
Claire's words make me tremble in fear; a cold shiver races down my spine.
I grab the black umbrella in the corner, push open the door, and step outside. The loud, sharp crack of thunder welcomes me.
"Calm down… it's not my time. I can't die now."
I tighten my grip on the umbrella as the wind grows stronger, the rain lashing down and blurring the dim streetlights. Determined to keep the umbrella from flipping, I step into the road, eyes fixed on the shimmering light ahead.
A deafening roar shatters my focus.
A car — a streak of silver — hurtles toward me.
Time slows.
I freeze, my heart pounding against my ribs, as the car screeches to a halt inches from me.
"Ah—ah!" I scream, clutching my head as I stumble to the ground. The headlights pierce into my eyes, and I lift a hand to shield my face.
"Oh my God! What just happened?" the driver hollers. He rushes out of the car, no umbrella, clearly just as shocked as I am.
"Are you okay?" he asks, worry heavy in his voice.
The back door clicks open. A thin leg steps out, moving closer.
I look up at the figure — his green eyes narrow on mine, his jaw sharp, and his hair dusted with grey.
"Sir, be careful. It's raining, you will get wet." The driver tells him, aid stretching the umbrella above him.
"That isn't important right now," he says and squats in front of me. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I tell him as he helps me to rise on my feet. I shiver as droplets drain me.
"My child, why did you jump into the road carelessly? You could have been hurt badly if you weren't lucky," he says, leading me to the Mercedes. He guides me into the car.
"I'm sorry for being a trouble to you and thank you for helping me."
"What are you doing outside in the rain?"
"I came out to get something at the convenience store there," I tell him as I point at the store.
He shakes his head, and I bite down on my lower lip, looking down at my cold, barely wet hands. I won't have come out if my stepmom didn't force me to. Gosh, I hate my life. I wish Dad were here with us; maybe, just maybe, things would've been different. He hands me his business card.
"Huh? Sir…I" I stutter, my words hang between my tongue. Why is he giving me his business card?
"In case you suffered any injury. Feel free to call me anytime, but not late at night," he chuckles softly. I smile at him as I take the card. "And yes, I think you need this," he pulls off his black coat and wraps it around me. "You must be thinking, why is he nice to me?" Shoot! How did he know what I was about to say?
"I have a daughter too, so consider me treating you like my daughter." I nod and step out of the car, he winds down, I wave at him and the car pulls up.