Cracks Between The Blackout Blinds

• 1 •

The night before the first day of summer vacation, Ophelia Lush tossed and turned in her empty bed, thinking about the dreadful day ahead of her. Her stepmother must be sound asleep now, having taken, as she religiously does every night, her prescribed temazepam. 

Her biological mother had died a deplorable death when Ophelia was just six years old. She remembered sitting comfortably between her father and mother in the back of their Rolls Royce, on their way to Disneyland. Her mother had been holding her hand between hers, her father happily humming. Then their car was jerked to the side, the entire vehicle spinning and landing on its side. A drunk driver had crashed into them, killing himself and her mother, who was squashed into the debris of their car.

She didn't remember much after that. A few drunk nights where her father would come back, tie loose around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone. A quick funeral with lots of crying.

Two years later, her father married a beautiful woman named Ruby Quinn. She was a former swimsuit model, currently a successful author of teen help books. She was also an excellent cook. Life with her became easy. Ophelia ate great meals, had a mother figure in her life to help her grow up, and finally watched her father become happy.

She then watched her father become tired, angry, then fatally sick. After one year, testicular cancer killed Ophelia's father, leaving her under Ruby's care.

Ruby was nice. She loved and cared for Ophelia like she was her own daughter. But she was always scared. She didn't want to be put into foster care. She didn't want to be abandoned and left orphaned. Although, technically, she was orphaned.

The two of them were having brunch on a lovely Sunday when Ruby met Gregory Bailey. 40ish, classically handsome, sand brown hair swept up in a coif. He looked poised and confident, Ophelia's eyes zeroing in on his diamond-studded cufflinks and Daniel Wellington wristwatch.

"I couldn't help but notice..." his eyes drooped to Ruby's left hand, delicately perched on the table side. She'd long since abandoned her wedding ring. 

He introduced himself. Successful owner of a cybersecurity company, so many zeroes in his bank account it made Ophelia's eyes spin. She'd always thought old people didn't know jack shit about technology. Not that Greg was old, but he has definitely aged pass the generation of modern technology.

Ophelia breathed into her pillow, turned to her side. Tomorrow, she and Ruby would be packing their bags and kissing goodbye to Ruby's humble two-floor apartment and moving to Greg's large and over extravagant mansion.

With a sigh, Ophelia lay down on her back. Her eyes darted to the walls of her modest bedroom. She would miss this place, even with the faulty plumbing, and uneven shades of white and cream on her walls.

• § • § •

"My room's gonna be right next to Maximilian's?!" Ophelia blanched. Ruby shot her a look, don't be so rude. Ophelia wanted to be polite, she really did, for her sake, but Maximilian Bailey, teenaged son of Gregory Bailey, was an execrable snob. She abhorred the thought of living under the same roof as him. 

"Yes, it's the only one left available," Ruby answered.

"But...," she scrunched her nose. "But I hate him."

Ruby laughed.

"He's not all that bad, just a teenager," she said. "You can get the same most of the time, you know?"

"It's different. He's ugly."

"Just get unpacking and we'll have dinner later okay?"