Hadassah(ON HOLD)

I: The Queen

"Father. Father," Hadassah yelled excitedly as she ran into the house.

If she remembered correctly, he would be at his private bar drinking, although it was eleven in the morning. He always said it was 5pm somewhere in the world.

She reached the door but before she could touch the doorknob, it flew open.

"Cedric," Hadassah squealed and flung herself into her butler's arms. He caught her smoothly with one arm and laid her on her feet.

"Hadassah, you're home," he said with the faintest smile.

"Yes, for the next three months and a half."

Cedric's eyes widened and his smile grew slowly. "Three months? That's an awful long time. Is everything okay?"

Hadassah rolled her eyes playfully. "Nothing has to be wrong for me to come home, Cedric."

"You just never stay for more than a week," he replied.

"Can I be allowed inside now, officer?"

"Right," he said and opened the door wider for her to enter.

She walked into her childhood home for the first time in almost two years. The last time she had come home was in her third year of university. Her final thesis for her master's degree was due in three weeks.

Her eyes flitted over the details of the house that were ingrained in her memory. There wasn't much difference: the monochrome look her father liked still remained with those ugly abstract paintings her mother purchased at auctions just because they were expensive. The couches and cushions were still the same bland grey. Her baby cousin's coloring table remained in the corner for when the family came visiting.

Hadassah walked to the door of the dining room-same mahogany table and chairs with overly professional workmanship. Her house still looked straight out of the magazine her parents had gotten the remodelling idea from.

She frowned and walked in the direction of the light switches. Maybe they had changed the lights and left the chandelier.

"It's the same, Hadassah," Cedric said.

She turned around. "Is my father dead?"

She might as well know before her mother and three elder sisters would run through his money and leave nothing for the funeral.

Cedric's eyes widened in panic. "Of course not."

Oh.

"So my mother then?"

Cedric sighed. "No one is dead, Hadassah."

"Why is the house still the same as the last time I was here? I know Mother remodels every year."

Cedric's expression turned pained before he whispered, "The family cannot afford it. They owe so much it's embarrassing now."

Hadassah knew that Cedric was volunteering information only because it was her. He could as well be at risk of losing his job, if he wasn't the only person who could manage the Lukyan manor blindfolded with his hands and feet tied up.

"Owe?"

"Mr. Lukyan had relations with a certain crowd last year. Paid dearly for it, I mean that quite literally. It would have been recoverable if..."

When Cedric trailed off, Hadassah knew he had reached the limit of what he could say. Despite their friendly relationship, he remained only a servant. But that didn't mean she didn't know the end of his statement.

"Let me guess, my mother and sisters continued to spend millions like nothing had happened."

Judging from the lack of expression on his face, she knew her guess was spot on.