𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐒

0

"That was your final straw young lady!" Delilah's father points.

Delilah is drunk, way too drunk. Her lipstick is smudged across her face, her silver mini dress is pulled up (straps hanging loosely on her shoulders), and her best friend is clinging onto her for dear life, preventing her from falling.

"You want to party hard? Then party elsewhere," Mr. Hart continues. Blood grows onto his light caramel complexion and his body starts to radiate heat out of anger.

"Darling, let's discuss this in the morning," Mrs. Hart whines while rushing to grab Delilah out of her friends grasp.

"Thanks Leo, I can take it from here. Please just go home," Mrs. Hart sighs, directing her attention at the front entrance. Leo nods his head before scurrying out the golden doors.

"We can discuss this in the morning. Your daughter is drunk, just head to bed Dan. I got it from here," Mrs. Hart says while walking towards the steps. A butler comes from around the corner, helping her to carry Delilah up the spiraled stairway.

Mr. Hart stands in the same position, pinching his nose bridge out of frustration. The only noise erupting out of the mansion is the gentle waves of the pool outside and the early morning wind. He balls up his fists and looks over at a pile of papers sitting on the counter that leads to the kitchen. Walking over, he grabs an envelope out of the stack. He eyes it carefully, almost regretfully.

"I guess it's time," he speaks out loud.