Windows on the World (OLD VERSION) [BEING REWRITTEN]

[⁷] ᵇᵃᵍᵉˡ ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ

The dark cloud over Phoebe's head was gone. She no longer felt awful, like she'd been owing the world to Walter.

Her pride was damaged, but only a little. Having apologized was one less thing she had to fret about while in house arrest.

Before leaving his office, Phoebe listened to Walter as he explained how the cellphone worked, and that it already had service with Verizon. Before Phoebe could mention anything about him paying for service, he brought up that the offer to have a chat together he made that day on Brookfield Place was once again on the table. And that if she was interested, all she needed to do was put her new gadget to use.

He'd been surprised at how Phoebe had been able to remember his number to call him from the police station, given that his business card was returned with the phone in such a short span of time. She explained how, the only reason for her being in Stuyvesant was that her memory was remarkable. Or in her words, 'hella awesome'.

After that, she hurried home hoping Carlo hadn't checked in on her.

As Phoebe was reaching the stoop to the apartment block, she coincided with an all too familiar man in uniform.

"A little late to be arriving home, isn't it?"

Carlo stopped walking, trying to come off as intimidating, puffing himself up and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shit," Phoebe muttered under her breath so he wouldn't hear her. "Had to, eh, run an errand."

"You don't lie to a cop, Phoebe."

"I ain't lying!"

"Upstairs. Now," he commanded, holding his arm up to indicate Phoebe to go inside.

Phoebe grunted, angrily going up the stoop, followed by her uncle.

"I was bringing you Julia's lasagna, but I'm not sure you deserve it," he said once upstairs, setting a plastic container on the counter.

"No reason to let me starve."

Phoebe grabbed a fork and opened the container to try a piece of the lasagna.

"What were you up to?"

"Nothing," she responded with her mouth full.

"I swear to God, if you were out with those punks again-"

"I wasn't!"

Carlo didn't care. He rested his hand against the holster on his belt and stood firmly, once again using his power of intimidation.

"You just got two more weeks."

"As if!" She shouted. "No, no. I made new friends today at school, I wanna be able to hang out with them or they're gonna think I don't give a shit!"

"Two weeks," he insisted.

From a distance, Phoebe threw the fork in the sink in an outburst of indignation.

"In that time I'll be eighteen and you won't be able to lock me up anymore."

"Listen, I know you got an issue with authority. But you do what I tell you, because it's to protect you. Okay?"

Phoebe rushed past him into her bedroom.

"Marone!" she shouted before slamming the door shut.

"As long as you keep acting like a kid, I'll keep treating you like one!"

Carlo gave up and left, leaving the lasagna behind, even if he thought she didn't deserve it.

Phoebe threw her backpack to the floor carelessly, remembering a second later the expensive object in it.