8

Chapter 8

I really am ready, I just don't want his help. I don't want to have anything to do with Spencer Anthony.

I want absolutely nothing to do with the Anthony family except get my daughter back and build a new life.

Once I have that, both brothers won't even know I exist because I will disappear from the face of the earth.

With that in mind, I shove my phone face down, not bothering to respond. I slide back into the duvet, heart racing as I try to sleep.

My eyes flutter closed, and the image of my baby is the last I see before sleep takes over.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Clarissa's loud and chirpy voice has my eyes fluttering open.

“What time is it?” I groan, rubbing the heel of my palm into my eye to ward off sleep. I slowly pull myself up into a sitting position, using my hand to push the duvet aside.

“It's almost eight, remember you have that job interview to attend. You can't pay your bills if you don't work.” She sasses, tugging at her hair hard.

She is dressed in a blue scrub, ready for work. Her right wrist was adorned with a tiny watch that she always wore with her feet in her favourite flops.

In the past year that she was out, she finally found a hospital that didn't mind her record once she told them her part of the story.

A part I didn't know yet, and wasn't going to try to know.

She has given me enough privacy; the least I can do is return it. If she wants me to know, she will tell me.

“I know, thank you so much for waking me up. I will go get ready.” I murmur, pushing my feet forward to propel my body off the bed.

“Exciting, I will get the coffee ready.” She exclamates, bouncing on her feet as she rushes out.

I don't know how she always has so much energy and positivity even after almost eight years in prison. I was only there for three years, and I feel like all the light in my life has been sucked out.

Some people are truly gifted. I shake my head, padding my way to the bathroom to get ready for the interview.

“About time you showed up. Was thinking you were pushing out a baby in there.” Clarissa says as soon as I enter the kitchen.

I am dressed in a simple black skirt and a white shirt. Since I had nothing to wear, Clarissa has been generous enough to share with me, noting that we are basically the same size, making all her outfits fit.

And boy, does she love corporate, that's literally all she has. It's as cute as it is annoying.

“Here, I have to go now. Break a leg.” She calls out, handing a cup of steaming coffee to me as she runs out the door.

I move my feet across the kitchen to the living room since it's not really divided by a door or anything.

Plopping down on the couch, I take big gulps of the hot coffee. Yeah, it does sting a lot. I am used to it.

In prison, everything is a huddle; you have to rush your food or drink regardless of the temperature, or the bigger ones take them from you.

So in the space of three years, I can basically eat anything hot and not feel it.

Once I am done, I quickly rinse out the cup before putting on my heels.

I pray I get the job.

The door bangs so loudly as I slam it behind me, strutting in with my face visibly red.

“Hey, where have you been all day? I was getting worried.” Clarissa asks, moving from where she sat on the couch, her forefinger pressing a button in the remote to pause what she was watching.

“They all rejected me. Every single company rejected me, calling me names. Saying I am a criminal who wants to ruin a home, MY HOME!” I can't help the yell that spills out of my lips at the last words.

“Oh my goodness, babe.” Clarissa gasps, her fingers tugging at her hair harder than I have seen it, literally making me wince.

How does that not hurt her enough to stop? Sure, she says the pain is what she needs, but still.

“I am tired, I will head in now,” I murmur, moving past her as I can't bear any words of sympathy right now.

“Hey, Clara.” My feet halt at my name, causing me to turn to stare at her for a moment.

“Don't give up, I know it's hard now. But you only just got out, it was the same for me. It will get better, I promise,” she says.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I force them back as I nod before walking away. I slam my door shut, placing my body behind the door as I slide down to the floor.

It's not the same for her.

I didn't just come out, I lost everything. My best friend, my husband, my baby. They didn't care about anything, the relationships we had. The memories.

How was it so easy for them to do this to me?

“We will always be best friends, and nothing will stop that,” Florida said to me a year before I went to prison.

Yet she broke that promise, those words. I dig my fingers into my hair as I tug harder. It doesn't just end there.

They took my company, a company my father built from scratch, suffering for it, yet I failed him, and all of his hard work is about to go to waste.

“Ahhh!” I scream out, tugging at my hair so hard it burns.

But the pain only soothes the one I feel inside, like it balances it out so that it's bearable.

Oh Lord. I can't do this, it's so hard.

My phone pings again, thinking it's one of the interviews I went for, I grab it with speed, unlocking it.

I shouldn't have because the headline has blood draining out of my face as I gasp in shock.

No way!