CHAPTER 5: HELPLESS

[IXORA’S HOUSE]

Ixora was pacing around in the sitting room. She was waiting for her parents to arrive. It was past 9, and they were yet to be back.

They always got back late, and she had gotten used to it.

If not for the fact that Aunt Maria was in dire need of money, she would have been asleep, dreaming about her crush.

But here she was, in the sitting room, waiting for them.

Aunt Maria had always treated her like her daughter, even though they were not rich.

Hazel works as a part-timer in a restaurant, and Aunt Maria sells knitted sweaters.

Irrespective of the fact that they weren't as rich as she was, they always treated her like family.

Whenever she visited, Aunt Maria would always give her the sweater she had knitted for Hazel and her.

They treated her like family, even with her great financial status.

Aunt Maria was a mother she had and loved, because she never got love from her mother.

She remembered when she first saw her period. Aunt Maria was the one who guided her.

Her mother had always been less concerned about her.

She clasped her hands together and exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself down.

She checked the clock again and saw it was only a few minutes to ten.

"Are they coming back this night?" she thought, and that instant they both walked in.

They halted at the doorstep when they saw her.

She knew they would be surprised.

She never waited for them.

"Mom, Dad, good evening," she greeted.

They exchanged meaningful glances before walking towards her.

Georgia placed her palm on Ixora’s forehead.

"She's not sick," Georgia said, taking down her hand.

She knew her mum could be a bit overly dramatic sometimes.

"Ixora, are you okay?" Smith (Ixora's father) asked.

Ixora shook her head.

"Dad, I need your help. Hazel's mother is suffering from blood cancer, and she needs surgery. Could you please see about her hospital bills?" Ixora asked, her voice low and pleading.

Georgia stared at her before hissing.

She began walking inside.

Smith also looked at his daughter.

The kind of look that says, 'foolish daughter'.

He also joined his wife in walking in.

"Dad, please. Aunt Maria's life is at stake here. If you don't want to do it for me, then do it to save somebody's life," Ixora said, rushing to them.

Georgia faced her.

"I've told you countless times to stay away from those people. They don't belong to our status. Her daughter waits tables at a roadside diner, and her mother—what does she do again? Oh right, she sells knitted sweaters like it’s still in the 1700s."

"Stop it, mum. I won’t stand here and tolerate you saying mean things about my friend," Ixora warned.

She knew talking to them was a waste of time, but what could she do?

Aunt Maria's life was on the line.

"Please Dad," Ixora pleaded, going to her knees.

Smith’s eyes twitched. "You shouldn’t kneel before your father. Get up," he helped Ixora up.

Tears gathered at the corners of Ixora’s eyes as she saw a ray of hope.

"I'll help that is... I mean that friend of yours, but only on one condition." Smith sat on the couch with a knowing smile on his lips.

Ixora’s ears twitched at the mention of 'condition.' They had never asked her to do something for her very own benefit. They were selfish and had never once thought about her feelings, so whatever the condition was, it must be for their selfish reasons.

"What condition?" Ixora asked slowly, getting herself ready for the heartbreaking condition.

"It’s easy: Just get married to James Miller, and I'll make sure your friend's mother is free from her illness. I’ll also rid them of their poverty-stricken life. The choice is yours to make," Smith said and stood.

"Why are you doing this? I’ve never asked you for anything. This is the first time. Can't you do this one thing? Must you always be selfish?" Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes as she spoke.

"Look, we don't run a charity organization over here; nothing goes for nothing. Anyway, I'm exhausted, so I’ll see you soon, sweetheart," Georgia said, finally going to her room.

"I hate both of you. I hate you!" Ixora screamed at her dad's face, then ran away from the house.

— —

Ixora dragged her feet down the street, having no particular destination in mind. She couldn't bring herself to meet Hazel. She couldn't let her mother down after everything they'd both done for her. She finally sat on a long bench beside a lonely street, letting her tears flow freely.

"I wonder if they are truly my real parents. How can they be this heartless and selfish?" she mumbled tearfully, remembering her parents' condition.

"Why was I born into that family? Why was I born to them? Why!” she yelled out, frustratingly and bent her head.

A few seconds later, she raised her head with her face slightly squeezed. The air had become chillier, just like when she was in her room.

The hairs at the back of her neck all stood, and she felt a deep gaze, swiftly snapping her gaze to a different corner. There was nothing— then why was she feeling like someone was behind her?

Turning to her front, she saw a neatly white, well-folded handkerchief lying next to her on the bench.

"Uh, this wasn’t here when I got here," she mumbled.

She immediately stood, and her eyes caught the shadow of someone.

"Maybe he’s the reason I get those crazy feelings," she thought, going after the person.

The person’s steps were slow, so slow or so she thought, because no matter how much she increased her pace, she couldn't catch up.

She was desperate to see his face, but he vanished into the night. She exhaled deeply, unanswered questions racing through her mind.

She couldn't see the person; she could only see his back.

He was hooded. There was no way she could even see his face.

She might not have seen him, but his strong presence lingered in the air even though he was gone.

She gasped and ran back to the bench.

Thankfully, the handkerchief was still there.

She picked it up, and her eyes caught some stitches on it.

DO. NOT. CRY.

She stared at it longer than she had planned and didn’t know when a small smile crept up her lips.

"Who are you?" she mumbled softly, staring at the handkerchief.

****

[7 AM, BLACKTHORN AUTOMOBILE]

Ixora stood as she waited for Drexton to finish drinking his coffee.

He asked her to wait for him, the reason she didn't know.

Surprisingly, he wasn't staring at her like he used to, though she could feel his gaze on her occasionally.

Her eyes darted around the office.

This would be the first time she'd noticed how huge the office was.

Something was off about her.

Her hands were cold.

She had to fold her hands to ease the tension.

But the tension remained.

She tightened her grip around her elbow, her heart beating a little faster.

Her eyes caught a glass cover on the side of the wall.

Inside the cover, she could see a watch.

The watch gleamed and sparkled like a newly discovered diamond, catching her eyes in dazzling bursts.

"Ixora, what are you thinking?" her mind told her.

She shook her head, but her eyes found their way back to the diamond watch.

Maria's condition and tears echoed in her head.

The doctor's words, too, "She has only a few days for the surgery. The more we wait, the less her chances become."

“No, Xora. I can't do it," she took her gaze back to Drexton, who was still drinking the coffee.

Just like a magnetic force, the watch pulled her eyes back.

"The watch would be able to cover my aunt's surgery. But I can't possibly steal from him."

She thought, but then remembered Hazel's words.

"If my mum and I have been an important part of your life, then you have to help us, please. My mum's life is in your hands. I'm sorry that I'm the one saying it. If your parents refuse to give you the money, then you will have to steal it from your boss."

She knew Hazel loved her mum so much, but asking her to steal and not from anyone...her boss—was something she couldn't do...or could she?

The sound of the cup brought her back to reality.

He was done, so she carried the tray.

Stealing a last glance at the watch, she began leaving his office.

"The beauty is blinding. The danger is clear. Like day, and night," his cold voice suddenly spoke, causing her to look back at him.

He had his head bent as he worked on some files. He didn't even stop to spare her a glance.

She frowned and turned towards the door, leaving the office, while trying to figure out the meaning behind what he had just said.