Chapter 7

“Don't worry about it Dylan. It's nothing serious.”

“I'll be on my way now Alicia,” Dylan said. His voice was low, his shoulders a little slumped as if something inside him had just given way.

“Are you alright Dylan? Is everything okay?” Alicia asked, her brows pinching together as she noticed the sudden change in him.

“Yeah! I'm good. See you next time,” he replied quickly, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he moved toward the door again.

“Okay… Take care Dylan. Thank you so much for all you have done for me today.” Alicia said softly as she walked him to the door. She watched him leave, and in the next moment, he was gone.

As soon as Georgia spotted Dylan driving away, she slipped out of the cab. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she moved closer to study Alicia’s new apartment. She narrowed her eyes, letting every detail sink into her memory, almost like she was stamping it into her mind.

“Here’s your f*e for the ride,” she said flatly, handing a 20 dollar note towards the driver, after she opened the back door to get her bag from the cab.

“Hey madam… my f*e for this job is 60 dollars, not 20,” the driver said, his voice tightening with restrained anger.

“Excuse me! What do you mean by that?” Georgia snapped, her voice sharp and cold. “The distance from Willowbrook street to this Criston street is not that far. Why are you trying to rip me off?”

“Madam, please,” the driver said, raising his voice a little now, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “I spent almost thirty minutes waiting for you to finish your mission. I followed that car, stopping over and over again, wasting precious time. I could have made more than 60 dollars if I were out taking real passengers. I didn’t even charge you that much.”

Georgia’s lips twisted into a bitter sneer. “Are you taking this or not?” she said, her eyes burning with defiance.

The driver’s jaw clenched. “Okay, then at least make it 50 dollars, ma’am. I will take it.”

But Georgia wasn’t about to give in. She flung the 20 dollar note at him through the window, the paper brushing his cheek before falling to the seat. Without a backward glance, she turned on her heel and began striding toward the Criston club restaurant.

The driver’s patience snapped. His face reddened with fury, veins standing on his neck. He pushed his door open and jumped out, his steps fast and heavy. In one swift motion, he grabbed Georgia by the arm, his grip was so rough and tight.

“Get your hands off me, you idiot!” she screamed, twisting and jerking to break free from him.

“Madam, pay me what you owe me!” the driver snarled, his voice harsh, spit flying from his lips as his anger boiled over.

The commotion caught attention immediately. People started gathering, murmuring, some lifting their phones as if ready to record. Women shouted at the driver, telling him to stop harassing her.

One woman stepped forward, her voice sharp as she yelled, “Let her go right now!” Another raised her phone in the air, warning she would call 911 if he didn’t release Georgia.

A man in his fifties finally pushed through the crowd. He stood straight, his expression steady, but his eyes showed a quiet kind of courage. He lifted his hands slightly, as though trying to calm a storm. “Please, let her go,” he begged the driver gently. Then he turned, listening as the driver quickly poured out his frustration in front of everyone.

The man nodded, reached into his wallet, and pulled out a neat stack of crisp hundred dollar bills. He pressed it into the driver’s hand. “Please, forgive her,” he said softly.

The driver’s breathing was still rough, but his shoulders dropped as he waved his hand in thanks. “Thank you,” he muttered before returning to his cab.

Georgia stood tall, her chin tilted upward. Not a single thank you escaped her lips. Instead, she hissed loudly, brushing her hand in the air like she was swiping away dirt. A mocking laugh rolled out of her throat as she turned and walked off, her figure vanishing into the crowd.

The people who had gathered stared after her in disbelief. Some shook their heads, muttering words like “shameless” and “rude.” Others whispered that the man had wasted his money on someone unworthy. A few women folded their arms tight against their chests, their eyes narrowing as they tracked Georgia’s retreat.

***

Alicia had just finished her shower. She walked slowly to the dressing table, her skin was still damp, she began rubbing cream and ointment into her smooth skin.

Her phone buzzed. It was Emily, her friend.

“Heyyy… Aly girl, where are you? I have been worried sick about you,” Emily’s voice rushed out, fast and urgent. “Are you staying at a hotel right now?”

Alicia let out a long breath before answering. “Hey, Mily…” Her voice was low, almost dragging, like her chest carried a weight she could not shake off.

“You didn’t even take my calls when you left your dad’s house. Is that fair, Aly?” Emily said, half scolding, half worried. Alicia could picture her pacing in her room with the phone pressed tight to her ear.

“I know… I’m sorry,” Alicia whispered, her fingers pressing against her temple. “I just… I couldn’t bring myself to pick up. It was too much for me to bear.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment before Emily’s tone softened. “Aly, talk to me. What happened? You’re scaring me.”

Alicia swallowed hard, leaning against the wall. Her eyes dropped to the floor, blinking fast as if she was fighting back tears. “It’s been rough, Mily. Everything feels too much right now. So many embarrassing moments today. But I’ll be fine. I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Emily sighed. “You always say that. But I know when you’re breaking inside.”

Alicia smiled faintly through the ache in her chest. “You know me too well.”

“But come to think of it Aly, your stepmother is nothing short of cruel. How could she not let you stay in your father’s house? that she had the bodyguards throw you out, like you're a nobody?” Emily burst out in rage. “Even your stepsister Stephanie, is not left out in this wicked act.”

Alicia’s voice came through the phone, weak but steady. “Mily… they have always been like that towards me. Always finding ways to ill treat me.” She sighed, her breath shaky. “My father is gone, so now they do as they like with me, and nothing changes.”

“Like mother, like daughter.” Emily hissed, anger dripping from her words. “If I had been there when they threw you out, I would have dealt with them.”

“Hmmm…” Alicia sighed heavily. “It’s okay, Mily. After they threw me out this morning I was waiting at the roadside to board a cab that would take me to a nearby hotel where I could lodge. Then all of a sudden a car pulled up close to where I was standing. Guess who, It was Dylan… he stopped and offered to help…...”

“Dylan?” Emily’s voice shot up in shock, cutting her short. There was a sharpness in her tone, laced with something Alicia couldn’t quite place.