Aftermath

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

Nancy parks her car in the parking lot, and I see the lone plane perched on the runway. I climb out of the car simultaneously with Nancy, but she stays by her door a moment longer, frowning at her phone screen.

I don't ask her about it, only waiting patiently by the back of the car. Eventually, she puts her phone away and walks over. "My apologies," She says, "I was under the impression your family would be meeting you here but something has apparently came up. Will you be okay on the plane on your own? I don't have clearance to accompany you. I can try to get cleared to go with you if you're willing to wait about a hour?"

I pull my bag onto my shoulder, "It's whatever, I can go alone." It isn't much of a change in pace, I've hardly ever had a parent accompany me anywhere. I was half expecting an airport reunion though. But when does one ever win in life?

She escorts me to the plane entrance and stops. "I slipped my business card into your bag if you need anything. Remember it's okay to be sad, and it's okay not to like your new family at first. Time breeds familiarity, and I hope you find happiness."

Her statement sounds very rehearsed and I'm certain it's simply protocol, "Okay."

She sighs at my lack of participation, "Good luck, Bianca."

I can tell that was from the heart. I want to tell her off for being so persistent and worrisome. She's a social worker, not my mother. Would she like me to forget that she's only here because she's being paid to be? I'd wager she gets about a hundred of these cases a day, and I'm only a face in a sea of many. But I don't snap at her, instead just offering a simple "Thanks," And climbing aboard the plane.

As the plane door closes, I don't attempt to conceal my awe at the luxury in front of me.

There are 4 rows each with 2 seats, 3 rows on either side of the plane and the seats in sets of 2 facing each other. Each leather row is accompanied by a personal table, as well as a TV that detaches from the seat on an adjustable bar that you can use as sort of a mount. There's a transparent fridge attached to the back wall stocked with an assortment of drinks, and beside it is a cart stocked with more snacks than I've ever seen.

With a sigh of exhaustion, I finally sink into the plane seat as I feel the plane taking off. The seat is comfortable and I'm already certain I'd like to stay here forever. I pull the TV into view and am delighted that every streaming service seems to be paid for already. I choose a random episode of Modern Family at an attempt at comfort. And in the safety of solitude, I find myself dozing off.

. . .

I'm awaken by a middle aged man, his hair is thinning but he looks polite enough.

"Are you ready to go, Miss Ricci?"

I'm the only one back home with the last name Ricci. My mother changed her last name to Walker when she married John. I don't like to think about their marriage. They've been together as long as I can remember, I can hardly remember how it was before things started going downhill.

"Miss Ricci?"

I wipe the sleep from my eyes, "Yeah, I'm up, just give me a minute," I say.

"As you wish."

I grab my bag and slide it back onto my back. "Would you like me to carry your bag, Miss Ricci?"

"Nope," I say.

"As you will, my name is Arthur, I'm your family's personal driver and I'll be escorting you to your new home, Miss Ricci. Come with me please."

If he calls me Miss Ricci one more time, I'm gonna lose my mind. I follow him out of the plane and when he opens the back door of the car I stop.

"Am I supposed to just get into the back of your car?" I say suspiciously.

"Please do not make this complicated, Miss Ricci. If you would just get in, please."

I roll my eyes. My life couldn't possibly get any worse, right? I sit down in the backseat and we pull out of the parking lot. Unlike Nancy, Arthur doesn't talk to me once he sees my earbuds are in and before I know it, we're pulling into a driveway.

This time, I do take out my earbuds. This place can hardly constitute as a house, it's a fucking mansion! In all my 16 years of life, I've never seen a residence this large. There's fountains off to each corner of the courtyard (courtyard!) and the house has to be like...Really big.

It towers over me in a way that's almost daunting, different shadows of the exterior are illuminated by strategically placed garden lights. I can't take my eyes off of it. Arthur comes around to open my door. I try to open it before I realize Child Safety Lock is on. He gives me an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid it was necessary. I didn't want you to bolt while under my supervision."

I scowl. As if I'm not already in a bad mood. While I was being hit, and abused, and tortured beyond measure, branded with scars I'll never be able to erase, they were living in riches. I was living in a basement that was sweltering in the summer, freezing in the winter, too humid or too dry with no food or drink, and they were living in a mansion. Even their jet is overstocked with more food than I'd be provided in a month.

I'm already certain this might crash and burn.