DEBT TO DESTINY; The Billionaire's Bargain Bride

Chapter Two : In the wake of Loss

A few minutes later,

With a languid gait, I ascended the stairs. Taking my last step, I took deep breaths filling up my lungs.

Gazing down the hallway, Dad's collection of grey flowerpots matched the mixed wall paints, arranged a fit away from one another on the milky tile, illuminated by light, each flower blossoms, and the sandy surface was bone-dry, with not a hint of moisture in sight.

Dad was indeed the master of all trades, as the latest paint colour used in decorating the house was his idea.

Adjusting the plate on my hand, I walk slowly; an unrelenting, throbbing ache surges beneath my feet, stopping for a second, expecting it to subside I  looked up, Lizzie's room was a few steps from me.

Standing in front of my room's brown door, I bent a bit, wobbling, trying to balance on my right foot. Pulling my demi ballet flat covers shoes off my left foot, I flung the other off. The glacial feel of the tile tingles my feet. A gentle breeze descends on my sweaty white toes, I sigh rubbing my toes against each other.

Shoving my room's door half open. kicked my shoes in, and closed?the door . On raising my head, I halted, with an empty stare, My gaze convenes the sign on Dad's library door—more of an office, as he usually calls it. 

"Knock and wait, till you are told to come in," the sign read. Just down the hallway, the door was in the final chamber. Being young, Lizzie and I barged into his office at any time; the sign was to control us.

But now that life has just played its ultimate shuffling game on us, Dad is no more. I bit my lower lip, blinking hard, tears threatening to rush down.

I just pray Lizzie isn't crying, trying to cut my inner voice off from Dad's thoughts. I glanced downstairs for a few seconds; everyone was silent. This silence was only making my mission of hiding the pain I was feeling daunting.

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie!! Are you there?" I called.

With no response, I partially, but slowly, push the door open. The room was cloaked in shadow, its corners swallowed by obscurity. The darkness seemed to hold pain, both hiding and haunting.

with my shoulder leaning on the outside doorframe, I extend my right arm, searching for the light switch on the wall.

After 30 seconds of moving my arm randomly on the wall, I switched it on, brightness spread across the room, the bulb illuminating every corner of the room.

The fact that my sister is obsessed with pink was clear and justified as every place and thing in her room is either pink or decorated with pink.

I skimmed around. The pink curtains were all tied up, books, scattered across her mini table open starked and even torn sheets an empty cup lay on the centre carpet. I bet it had been there for more than a day. The black clothes she had worn, were lying in front of her bed. 

Laying on the bed, her petite figure hugged the pillow so tightly as if her life depended on it, with her face first and buried underneath her blankets. 

"Lizzie," I voiced softly arranging the books on her mini table. I dropped the plate I was holding. She had cried throughout yesterday, and I have been ignoring her and mum, knowing that seeing her in her state of weeping can lead to me breaking down but here I am, now one way or another, I had to get her to eat something.

"Lizzy, are you sleeping?". I tried tuning in more, but nothing changed she didn't even flinch.

Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie!!!! I called out, taking two steps closer to her bed, but still no response.

It seems like she is sleeping. Not wishing to wake her up if she was, I pushed the plate of food away from the edge of the table. I will check on her later. Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned to walk out, glancing at the wall clock, it was 7:05 pm