Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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Should she go back? To NYC? To life as she knew before him before everything happened, happened?
She did't even know at this point. And as she stared at the green, wizzing by her as she ran in the private trail behind her house, she nearly ran into a tree, missing a turn completely.
She decided she was overrunning her own self her own thoughts, if she was a car then definitely her own headlights, and instead decided to walk home.
It was early afternoon, and Clementine started to take a liking to the time of day. When everything was still possible, unlike the heavy evenings when everything has passed, or the heavy mornings after a night spent worrying.
She went other kitchen and fixed herself a light lunch. Some protein, some salad, a lavender lemonade - her favourite since she was a kid and lucky for her - it has always been a staple of the kitchen since.
She then sat at the kitchen counter, about to take the first bite when Laticia came in, followed by Ernesto.
"Oh, hi!" Clementine said.
"Hola," they both said in unison, sitting casually across form her.
Clementine laughed to herself seeing both their faces, "what is this?" She asked.
"An intervention." Laticia stated, keeping her gaze steady.
"What do you mean?" Clementine sipped on the lavender lemonade nervously.
There were probably many things to intervene at this point
"There is something you need to know," Ernesto looked at her, and she realized that maybe they weren't joking after all.
This time Clementine laughed once, mostly to herself, trying to break the tension, "what?"
"Your dad...isn't who you think he is," Ernesto began, but Clementine snorted in response.
"As if that's news," taking a bite of her food.
"No, you don't understand. He's in a certain line of business that may sooner or later cause problems to you," Ernesto was carefully unfolding the subject but she wished he would just get to it.
"We thought it was important for you to know, considering the circumstance," Latricia spoke gently.
"Know what? What circumstance? The fact that I am locked up here or that maybe I don't even want to go back to NY or perhaps that Zico is, oh I don't know a drug dealer!" As soon as she said it, she instantly regretted it, blushing, mad at herself for having given herself away so soon. But she just couldn't't keep it in any longer.
The worst part was that neither Laticia nor Ernesto seemed fazed at this fact.
"We know...which is why we thought it important to tell you," Ernesto began again but Clementine interrupted him.
"You know?! Well, where were you in the very beginning?"
"Do you really think us telling you this would have changed anything for you? I know how you are Clem, stubborn as a mule. And especially then, I saw how ahead over heels you were with this boy." Now it was Laticia who was starting to get worked up.
"I tried to warn you," Ernesto muttered under his breath, but Laticia jabbed him with her elbow.
Clementine remembered Ernesto coming up to her at the piano, all this time ago, trying to yer - give her warning sing - but Laticia was right. It wouldn't have mattered. She was too blind to see. To in it to know any better.
"At the end of the day, though, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree," Ernesto said, looking somewhere else, not at Clementine.
"What does that mean?!" Clementine exclaimed, realizing they still haven't told her what it was that they came to say.
"Just that your father," Ernesto looked at Laticia who nodded at him as if to say go on, "runs the cartel under which Zico operates."
