Stealth & Fortune

TWO

Dark circles adorned my eyes as a consequence of last night. Betrayed? Betrayed by who? About what?

Yesterday, after my discovery, I turned the office upside down looking for anything that could help me find answers. But the only thing I found was an address,

124 Oak Street, NYC.

I googled it on my computer, and the image of a somewhat neglected building popped up. The place looks sketchy and it's in the middle of nowhere, so convincing Richard to let me go there is definitely out of option. But maybe—

"Hey Blary, what are you doing?" Finn's very recognizable voice hit my ears and I swiftly closed my laptop.

"Nothing much. How about you?" I smiled as he made his way to sit on my bed.

His familiar scent of fabric softener invaded my nostrils.

"Eh," he shrugged, "Heard yesterday you got into a little fight with my dad; What was that about?"

I sighed, "He sold the house."

"Are you serious? Does that mean we are moving?"

"Not this one. He sold my parents' house, the one that was supposed to be mine." I glided my fingers through his messy blond hair trying to ignore the lump in my throat. But Finn being Finn, instantly caught up and rested his heavy arm on my shoulder pulling me to his side.

"I'm sorry, I know how much that house meant to you." He said.

"It's okay. Sooner or later I would have sold it anyway." I pulled away, "What about your new job? How's working with your dad?" I eagerly changed the subject.

A shadow passed on his eyes and he suddenly grew anxious. "It's great. Definitely surprised me a bit, but I like it."

"What do you—" His phone started ringing and he excused himself to answer it leaving me alone.

Despite my best efforts, Finn always had an effect on me. And I wasn't the only one. Girls were constantly parading in and out of the house. But I had to come to terms with the fact that he was never going to look at me the way he did at any of them.

I sighed.

There was a point where I confessed everything to him, but with age came changes and also realizations. He told everything to Richard. Especially if it involved my safety and wellbeing—Even now that we are both 21. That's why I can't show him what I found at the house and much less that I plan to visit the address.

I stuck my head out the door, and when I realized he wasn't coming back, I closed it and sat down on my bed opening once again my computer. A ripple of uncertainty spread through me. What if somehow I convince Richard to let me go and there's nothing in that building? I would be disappointed, but I would finally have to move on and maybe get a job—

Get a job. That's it! I looked up professional templates, picked one, modified it, and sent it to myself with a fake email.

Regardless of my fear and sweaty hands, I put on my best enthusiastic smile and ambled down a few hallways stopping right in front of the door. I took a deep breath mustering courage, and knocked.

I really hope this works.