AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Dad?" I finally asked my father, who was sitting across the table from me, hidden behind his newspaper. "Dad, can I leave the table? I have a confession appointment in a few minutes, right?"
My father looked over the edge of his newspaper at me. His expression reflected concern.
"Today, you can't go to confession," he suddenly said, and my protest only stuck in my throat because Stephan entered the room at that moment.
Instead of giving myself free rein to my original feelings, I restrained myself and remained completely calm. "Why not?" I asked, seemingly calmly, while suppressing my rising anger and demonstratively spearing a raspberry with my fork.
Dad’s gaze drifted briefly to his butler. “Because Thomas is gone and can’t drive you.”
Startled, I looked at my father. Thomas had disappeared? My thoughts carried me back to that moment on Sunday when I had stood wedged between the driver and the car with my eyes closed. I could literally feel his sweaty hand on my butt, and I could smell the stench of sweat and cheap aftershave again. My breakfast automatically made its way back up.
Seeing my startled look and apparently thinking I was anxious about my training lessons, Dad immediately spoke reassuringly to me.
“Don’t worry, Myrina. Your confessions will continue. Stephan will drive you to St. John Cathedral from now on. However, since he has many chores to attend to in the household during the day, we must postpone your church visits until the evening hours." My father tried a relaxed smile, which I returned with a pained expression.
“Except tonight, of course,” he added almost cheerfully. With a bang, my fork landed on my plate. Forgotten was the missing driver. Instead, a fire burned in my veins, driving my pulse up relentlessly. My hands clenched into fists as if of their own accord, and the world seemed to pulse before my eyes.
A storm, no, an actual hurricane took possession of me. What was happening here? This was no longer me, Myrina. Like a spectator, I had to watch helplessly as these hot flamescontinued to spread inside me, igniting every little fuse that had built up inside me over the last few years.
How could I stop this flaming tsunami? My father’s eyes widened. He began to talk to me. I saw his lips moving, his forehead tightening into a crease, and his mouth pausing a placating but fake smile. But I did not hear the words. The pressure in my head became too great, and if I didn’t know better, I would think that steam would shoot out of my ears at any moment.
Suddenly, a hand placed itself on my shoulder from behind. I felt its coldness even through my clothes to my skin. Like ice, it surged through my body, extinguishing the flames, and I collapsed like a puppet.
Confused, I looked around at the hand and saw Stephan disappearing through the next room door.
“Myrina, are you all right?” My father now asked anxiously.
I cleared my throat furtively and ran my hands over my arms in an attempt to get rid of the cold. In vain. Nevertheless, I looked at him unflinchingly so he wouldn’t worry.
“Yes, Dad. Everything is fine. What did you say about why I couldn’t go to confession today?” I asked.
My dad took his napkin from his lap, put it on the table, stood up, and approached me. Lovingly, he grabbed my hand, ensured no one was in the room, and pulled me up from my chair. The next moment, he twirled me once in a circle.
“Because today is the gala at the Metropolitan Museum, and you get to attend as promised.”
“Then I’ll see Charly today?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes, Charlotte will be present as well. But be careful so it doesn’t become too conspicuous as to why you two are allowed to accompany your fathers,” he admonished me, a small smile crossing his face.
"I promise," I vowed, and my father whirled me back to my chair. Tonight, at least briefly, I would no longer be alone.
CHAPTER 10
Nervously, I fiddled with the sleeve hem of my black dress. It had the same cut as the church dress but was more elaborately embroidered than this. Since the collar covered my neck at a high level, I could wear the necklace underneath inconspicuously. Coldly, the silver amulet lay between my breasts. With each heartbeat, it bobbed slightly up and down, reminding me of its presence.
My father was sitting next to me in the car. He wore his best suit—dark blue with gold cufflinks, a spotless white shirt, and a matching light blue pocket square. Dad's hair, already a little thinning, lay tightly combed back under an elegant dark blue hat. My hair was formed into a simple, braided updo.
No jewelry, no flowers, no shoes with high heels. Black was reserved for women. Any other choice of color for a dress on such occasions was criminal in the truest sense of the word.
I had to think back to my high school prom without wanting to. My dress had been a dream of silk, with countless little glittering stones sparkling like stars in its dark blue fabric. It had accentuated my feminine curves, and never before had I felt more beautiful. Alex picked me up from home in a rented limousine, and my dad tied a flower around my wrist with pridein his eyes. Mom fought back tears while our butler at the time, James, snapped a picture of all of us together. In the photo, we looked so radiant, so damn happy.
None of us could have guessed back then what a wonderful time we had and how different the future would be. Unfortunately, humans only recognize the good when it is too late. Life is so unsteady, so unpredictable. Illness, misfortune, war. These elements can invade and conquer us at any time, destroying the life we know.
Suddenly, I felt Stephan's gaze coldly on me. Since Thomas had disappeared, as was reported, he drove my father and me to the gala. In the rearview mirror, I recognized his blue eyes, which virtually glowed like two mountain lakes in the sparse light of the late evening.
I quickly turned away and looked out the window.New York City is a city that never sleeps.This description no longer applied today, and just the short stretch to the Metropolitan Museum, right on the edge of Central Park, made this painfully clear again. Here in the metropolis, it had never been dark in the past, but now the city lay almost ghostly from six pm on.
"Myrina?" I heard Dad say softly by my ear. He had leaned over to me. "Honey, please keep a low profile during the gala," he whispered, uncertainty and ... was that fear in his voice?
