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ARUBA, TWO YEARS LATER
GIVING TWO EIGHTEEN-YEAR-OLD'S MILLIONS OF DOLLARS PROBABLY WASN'T A GOOD IDEA. Having a lot of money had never been foreign to them-- both coming from very affluent families. Although, they were never the ones in control of it. It was basically setting them up for disaster. Neither of them knew how to control their money, since they never had to worry about it. And now, they had more than they could ever use up. The amount they spent was probably enough to raise some sort of suspicion, but they never really took the time to think about that. They were young and free to do anything they wanted. But whoever said money can't buy happiness, was completely right. Short-term happiness could be bought with money, but it always faded, leaving the same dull, aching pain. She was a prime example of that.
No amount of money in the world could fill the void in Cayetana Vasquez.
Even as a little girl that aching pain was looming through her chest, haunting every thought. And now, as a twenty-year-old woman, it had only gotten gradually worse. She had become accustomed to the uncomfortable feeling, convincing herself a long time ago that everyone must've felt like that, empty-- since it had always been normal for her. It always felt like something was missing. Like a part of her just wasn't present.
When she agreed to the heist, leaving the girl she once knew behind her, she thought the aching would finally go away. But it never did. She had not quite reached that fulfillment yet.
They had been recruited for the heist when they were young and desperate. Both having very different reasons as to why they needed to do it. They were forced to grow up way too soon. The lasting affects still weighed down on them both-- but more so on Verona. She still couldn't come to terms with the guilt she felt for leaving Berlin back in that bank. She was supposed to go with him.
Perhaps, starting fresh in a new place was a blessing in disguise. It was nice to be around people who had no idea who she was, finally not being compared to her father and his heinous acts for once in her life. But, no matter what she did, she couldn't stop the guilt that ate away at her. She felt selfish for abandoning her family, no matter how much she suffered in that household. It felt like nothing would ever be able to fill that void, not even the boy she had spent the last two years alone with.
Verona and Florence never put a label on whatever they had. It was something that was always brushed under the rug, neither knowing how to approach that conversation. Although, they both would be lying if they said they didn't care deeply for each other. They had an unspoken connection. The last two years had proved that. Both of them helping each other with the pain that deeply weighed on their shoulders. They were always there to console each other as best as they could, even though usually they buried their pain, not wanting the other to see.
