sojournment & reinvention

Chapter 1

The forlorn blanket of winter clouds suffocated the New York City skyline while sheets of unrelenting rain threatened to drown its inhabitants. Slick streets reflected the eternity of lights flickering throughout the busy metropolitan, all the brighter due to the pressing darkness of the coming evening; it truly was the city that never sleeps. It inspired a dull yet desperate kind of living amongst its denizens. One of soul-crushing productivity and relentless movement in the hopes of survival.

Ana might've fallen for the grift if it wasn't the way she already lived. Her third coffee of the day wore off in a steady trickle like the drip of the two additional espresso shots in her typical dirty matcha latte. The baristas of the cafe she frequented for the past two weeks of her stay in the city already seemed concerned about her thrice a day appearance. She'd either need to find a new haunt soon or throw in a two-hundred percent tip with each purchase for them to look the other way if she ever upped it to four. That was the great thing about the big cities in the west—no one cared once enough money hit the table. You were just another face among the many they encountered on the daily.

She'd almost mourn her eventual departure from the Big Apple for them alone. No other cafe quite matched the deep umami of their matcha blend nor their perfect ratio of soy milk to matcha and espresso.

The rainwater battered the still-busy streets and swirled around the soles of her black velvet ankle boots. She adjusted her oversized tote bag to touch the icy-cold rain pouring over the edge of her umbrella. It pooled in her hand and she shook it off as she headed for the subway.

A glimpse of shimmering hot pink caught her eye.

A pretty girl huddled beneath the awning of a closed bakery, covering only in a short cocktail dress. She shivered miserably. Her eyeliner and mascara darkened the already present shadows beneath her doe-like eyes. Ana paused in the middle of her walk and observed the girl as her eyes shifted along the crowds hidden beneath their shields of nylon. She was Ana's age, perhaps younger. A college student facing the unforeseen consequences after a night of well-deserved insolent leisure and dangerous whims.

Ana closed her umbrella, brushed off the rain, and allowed it to roll out of her hand. It clattered against the concrete sidewalk right in front of the bakery.

The girl startled, her blonde curls bouncing, and she stared at the offering at her feet. Her eyes shifted rapidly, searching for the owner.

But New York City stopped for no one.

A discarded necessity meant nothing. Something she must have remembered as she hesitantly snatched up the umbrella, opened it, and merged into the passing crowd with her matching pink heels tainted by the muddy waters splashing with each step.

Ana followed soon after.

Not a soul spared her a glance as she slipped through the cracks of the bustling mass to the subway station, untouched by the endless precipitation. The fabric of her boots remained pristine.

She had a comparative politics paper to submit, a throng of emails to sort through, a contract to review, information to organise, and dinner to consume. Her fingers rubbed the growing ache thrumming at the bridge of her nose. She'd require another dirty matcha latte to accomplish a singular task on her list.

#

The traditional brownstone in Brooklyn wasn't Ana's ideal home. It strayed too close to the downtown core; full of busy roads, active people, and overly enthusiastic noise at all hours of the day. But her eldest paternal cousin, Arnaud Lau, had restored the home built in the early nineteen hundreds and asked her to evaluate its potential either on the market or as an addition to their family's global real estate repertoire. He had requested it of her with such a warmth that she found herself reluctant to deny him anything. He knew that he held a special place as one of her favourites and used the knowledge sparingly which had endeared her more to him.