* Lawrence *
She came the next day. Dianne always moved like she belonged wherever she stepped, heels clicking with authority even on the pebbled stone walkway leading to the Magnolia lobby. Her arrival was timed perfectly with the late afternoon hush, when the sun turned amber and the tourists retreated into air-conditioned rooms. I spotted her through the reflection of my sunglasses as I nursed a half-finished beer on a lounge chair, pretending to sleep. She wore white. A linen romper that hugged her like a glove and made her look like she belonged in a resort magazine spread. Dianne's father is my Dad's business partner and a friend, all the more reason why she and I are being thrown at each other since we were young. "Lawrence," she said, standing above me, blocking out the sun like a storm cloud. I opened one eye and gave a sheepish grin. "You made it." "You sound surprised," she said flatly, dropping her designer duffel beside the chair. "Room number?" I sighed, rising slowly. "Come on. I'll take you." We walked through the stone paths in silence. The laughter of children by the pool echoed behind us, but between us, it felt like an invisible wall had risen. Still, I unlocked the door to my cabana suite and let her in. I didn't want a fight. Not today. But Dianne never needed a reason to push. The moment the door clicked behind us, she rounded on me. "Why, Lawrence? Why didn't you tell me?" I rubbed the back of my neck, tension knotting in my shoulders. "Because I knew you'd do this." "Do what? Care?" "Invade." She blinked. "Wow." I didn't mean it to sound cruel, but it hung between us like smoke. Dianne stepped closer, her perfume clouding the air, expensive, musky, too much for a beach town like this. Her hand reached up, grazing my chest. "Let's not fight." I exhaled. She tilted her head. "Let me remind you why we work." Her lips found mine before I could respond. I kissed her back, out of instinct more than desire. Her hands slid under my shirt, then down to my waistband. I let her. Not because I wanted to. But because I didn't want to answer the questions behind her eyes. She guided us toward the bed, clothes unraveling along the way like a trail. The island disappeared. The sounds outside muted. And for a few minutes, I lost myself in her grip. But then the knock came. Soft. Hesitant. I froze. Dianne didn't. "Ignore it," she breathed against my neck. But I couldn't. Something about the timing... Something uneasy rippled through me. Another knock. This time, the door creaked open slightly, just a crack. Then a small gasp. I turned my head, just in time to see the face on the other side. She stood there, frozen in the doorway. The girl. Her. A cleaning cart behind her, a fresh stack of towels in her arms, and that wide, stunned expression on her young, flushed face. Her mouth parted in horror. Her eyes, those soft, brown eyes, locked with mine for one second too long. Though I still didn't know her name, I would never forget that face. Not now. Not after the way she looked at me, like I'd shattered something delicate in her hands. Then, before I could say a word, she turned and bolted. "Wait—" I started to sit up, instinctively, heart stumbling in my chest. Dianne gripped my wrist. "What the hell was that?" "I—" I pulled on my shirt, breath tight in my throat. "She's just staff." But even as I said it, it tasted wrong. Dismissive. Hollow. "Then why did you have to stop Renz?" The question coming from Dianne as I fix myself. "Because this isn't right, what if she spread rumors about us Dianne?" It was far from that, the truth is all the heat I felt earlier disappeared. It almost felt like I was being thrown with an ice-cold water after I saw her. Dianne rolled her eyes upward. "Come on! Your Dad owned this resort Renz, not one could tarnished your reputation specially coming from just a cleaner." "Just a cleaner," Dianne said, like it was nothing. Like people could be brushed off like dust on her linen romper. I stood there, jaw clenched, trying to steady the surge that rose inside me. The words hit me in the gut, not because they were false, but because they were cruel. And I'd never realized just how much cruelty Dianne could pack into one sentence until that moment. "She's a person, Dianne." She scoffed, throwing herself back onto the bed, sheets half-draped over her body like a careless painting. "Oh, please. You're really going to act like this is some kind of moral dilemma now?" I turned away from her, staring out the narrow window of the cabana. The sun was still dipping below the horizon, casting long gold streaks over the resort, but it felt like a storm was rising inside me. "You didn't see her face." "No, Lawrence. You didn't see your own." Her tone cut deep now, sharp, edged with something bitter. "You looked at her like—like you were caught cheating. And last time I checked, we're not even official." I turned slowly, narrowing my eyes. "You showed up uninvited." "And you kissed me back." "Out of habit," I snapped, regretting the words the moment they left my mouth. Dianne's face stiffened. For a moment, the confidence wavered. Her lip quivered, not enough for anyone else to notice, but I knew her too well. She wasn't used to being rejected. Especially not by me. "This is bullshit," she muttered, rising and pacing toward her bag. "You want me out?" I didn't answer right away. I stared at the door instead, the one the girl had stood in. The door still slightly ajar, as if inviting guilt to linger. "Lawrence." Dianne's voice sharpened. "Do you want me gone?" I raked a hand through my hair. "I don't know what I want right now." "Then I'll make it easy for you." She picked up her bag and stormed past me, brushing my shoulder on the way out, her perfume trailing behind like a final note to a song I no longer liked. The door slammed. And the silence that followed felt deafening. I let out a long breath and sat at the edge of the bed, my fingers dragging down my face. Who was she, that girl? I'd seen her before, hadn't I? Somewhere around the resort. Cleaning near the garden path. Fixing up rooms with that quiet intensity. She couldn't be more than eighteen maybe younger. She looked at everything like it had stories. And she looked at me like I had ruined one. Guilt twisted in my chest. Not because of what Dianne and I had done. But because I hadn't stopped it sooner. Because I hadn't seen the girl standing there until it was too late. I don't even know her name, I thought. But now I wanted to.* Jana *The city was louder than the island had ever been. Bigger. Colder. Its streets throbbed with strangers and neon lights, with honking cars and rusted buses and voices speaking languages that some of them I didn't understand. There was no ocean breeze, no rustling palms, no memory of the path that led to Mama's garden or the old hill we used to climb.Here, no one knew our names. And no one cared.We arrived with nothing but a battered suitcase, soaked clothes, and shadows behind our eyes. The rain had finally stopped, but the weight of it clung to us, as if it had seeped into our skin. Geraldine led us through the terminal, head high, acting braver than she felt. Edward was quiet now, burning silently, always watching every face like someone might recognize us, like danger would leap from the next alley.I clung to the edge of them both, the way a broken thread clings to cloth. But things unraveled fast.School was the first to go.We'd tried. Walked into offices with our old
* Jana *The rain hadn't stopped. Not even after we boarded the ship.It still came down in sheets, like the sky was mourning with us, like it wanted to drag the memory of that night across the water, stitch it into the waves so we could never escape it. I stood by the railing, my fingers gripping the cold steel, my dress still damp, my arms wrapped around my chest like I could hold the broken pieces of myself in place.The ferry wasn't salvation. It wasn't peace, or safety, or even hope. It was exile.Behind us, the island grew smaller, swallowed by fog and night and the black stretch of sea that separated us from everything we'd known. Everything we'd lost.Behind me, Edward paced like a lion with its mane on fire. His boots thudded across the soaked deck. He hadn't said a word in over an hour, but I could feel it building in him, the storm. Then, finally, it broke."Damn it!" he snarled, slamming his fist into the side of the ship's wall with a dull metallic thud. "We left without
* Lawrence *The storm made everything louder. Every word. Every scream. Every tear. It beat against the world like it wanted in, into the walls, into our bones, into the twisted spaces between what we said and what we meant. And it echoed inside my skull like a war drum, a rhythm of rage that had gone too long unheard. Unchecked. Unanswered.Now, it was loose.And so was I.I watched the house unravel in front of me, like it was made of paper and old lies. Fragile things pretending to be sturdy. My men were the wind, flipping cushions, slamming open cabinets, dragging drawers out like intestines."Keep going," I barked. "Tear it apart."And they did.Because I wasn't here for sympathy. I wasn't here for apologies or explanations. I was here for retribution.The pink diamond ring. My mother's ring.The one jewelry she considered significant, the symbol of my father's love to her on third engagement day. And now it was gone. Vanished. Stolen.And every damn instinct in my bones, the sa
* Jana *The storm outside had grown teeth.It howled and snarled through the shattered peace of our home as if it had been summoned by the chaos within. Rain lashed the open doorway, soaking the floor, the furniture, the frayed welcome mat Mama had once called lucky.But nothing about this night felt lucky.Lawrence's voice thundered over the wreckage. "Tear this place apart."And they did.One man flipped the old couch, spilling coins and old receipts onto the floor like the guts of a wounded thing. Another kicked open the door to Edward's room, shoving aside posters, toppling shelves. I heard a crash, Edward's speaker, probably. He'd saved up for that."No! STOP!" I screamed, running toward the hallway, but one of the men grabbed my arm and shoved me back.I fell. My shoulder hit the linoleum hard, and pain flared bright in the dark like a firework going off in my chest. I tried to scramble up again, but my legs felt too thin, too wobbly."This is our home," I said through my teeth
* Jana *The clock ticked louder than it should have.I sat cross-legged on the worn couch, arms wrapped around a threadbare pillow, my eyes locked on the rust-speckled screen door that banged every time the wind shook the tiny house. The rain had started an hour ago, soft at first, like whispers on the roof, but now it pounded against the metal sheets with a desperate, angry rhythm.It was already past six. My mom should've been home by now.I didn't go with her today, my stomach had hurt in the morning, a dull cramp twisting me up, and Amanda, my mother, had told me to stay. "Rest," she said, brushing the hair from my forehead with her cool fingers. "Edward's here. You'll be fine."But Edward wasn't exactly here. He was holed up in his room with his headphones on, the volume so loud I could feel the bass rumbling through the floorboards. When I first asked him about mom, right after four o'clock, he'd rolled his eyes and muttered, "She's late. So what?" The second time, he didn't e
* Lawrence *"Where is she?"The words left my mouth like a quiet growl, forced through clenched teeth. I tried to keep the anger in check, to stop it from spilling into something reckless, something I couldn't walk back later. But it was becoming impossible, hours had passed, and Amanda Kramer still hadn't shown.The manager looked visibly uncomfortable. He stood near the glass wall of the office, fiddling with his watch strap, like he could escape the weight of my question by appearing busy. When his phone vibrated, he turned his back slightly as he read the message. A second later, his shoulders tensed and his face went pale."I—I need a moment," he muttered, then slipped out of the room.That was three hours ago.Still no Amanda. No return call. No word. Only a void.I remained in the manager's office long after I should've left, seated in a chair that was too plush to match the rising discomfort gnawing at my spine. Outside, the afternoon gave way to early evening, the light soft