A modern day retelling of "Snow White".
After tragedy befalls her mother, sixteen-year-old Chloe White is forced to live with her estranged father Henry and his new wife, Elizabeth, who was a former-famous actress. Out of spite and jealousy, Chloe...
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Chloe ran on an emotional auto-pilot. Mentally she was somewhere else, but physically and emotionally she appeared calm.
She sat at the back of the luxury car Abigail had called for her. The smooth black seats had that new car smell and the cup holders were furnished with imported bottled-water from Iceland. The driver up front was a man in his late 20's named Michael Mendez and he only had high praise to say of Henry. He explained how they gave him the job to help support moving his family from Puerto Rico to New York and how grateful he felt for the opportunity.
Chloe smiled and pretended she was listening.
She told him nothing about herself. There really was no point to talking about herself, it would only end with sourly uncomfortable silence and unwanted pity.
"Have you ever seen Manhattan before?" Mendez asked when he looked into the rear-view mirror to meet Chloe's gaze.
Chloe shrugged a little along with a small head shake. "Just in movies and on tv."
"Well, you are going to like it. There's lots of good food and things to do and see. There's a kinda magic in this city that makes people feel like they wanna stay when they visit, especially if they got money," Mendez emphasized about money and she could see why.
They drove through the "Upper East Side" of Manhattan, a place where even the cracks on the pavement looked expensive. People dressed from head-to-toe in the latest winter fashions. Everything from their hair, to their shoes looked perfect and unmarked.
She wondered if these people bought a brand new outfit to wear each day. There was no wear and tear on their shoe treads, or spots on their yellow coats, and definitely not even a scratch on the material of their tan colored designer purses.
Chloe started to feel a self-conscience in her gray sweater with the owl imprint on the front and wash worn jeans. She knew it was cold outside, but her sweater was the warmest top she owned; in Cairo the temperature rarely got below 61 degrees. She paired it with her black jacket and scarf, but neither of those were crowd stopping.
"So where am I going to go eat?" Chloe asked curiously.
Mendez kept his eyes on the road. "That's up to you and young Mr. Price. We're on our way to pick him up now."
Suddenly, Chloe felt flustered. She wasn't ready to socialize or deal with people. "But—I mean—I didn't make any plans with Prince. I haven't even called him yet."
"Mrs. Martin arranged everything. She told me to pick him up so we're picking him up."
Mendez didn't seem to mind or notice how shocked Chloe felt. He simply did what he was paid to do, drive.
She found herself slumped back into the car seat. She had Prince's number, maybe she could text him and tell him she was sick, or had the flu. Maybe he'd be disgusted and not show up wherever it was they were picking him up from.
