A Light in the Dark

Chapter 25

TRIGGER WARNING: suicidal thoughts at the end of the chapter

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"I see that you still have that... humor  of yours."

"Uh... I... I guess so," Camila replied carefully.

He hadn't really changed in a year. His hair was still short and neatly kept and he wore one of his tailored Armani suits. He looked intimidating like always and held himself with an air of confidence that made others uneasy. He was a man who demanded respect and he got it.

"Although you have no reason to be so joyous regarding your situation," he said, wrinkling his nose and just walked into her apartment without any invitation.

"How... how did you know where I live? And that I was home at this time?" she asked confused and shut the door, still stunned about his sudden appearance.

"A friend of yours called me," he answered, curling his lips in disgust as he took in her small apartment. "And I have connections, you ought to know that."

Camila stared at him in confusion. None of the girls could have known who to call. So, who did it?

"I cannot say that I'm surprised to see that you're... struggling." He scoffed and glared at the guitar in the corner. "You still haven't come to your senses?"

She slowly walked further into her living room. "Um, what do you mean?"

"I thought we had brought an end to this... music thing," he said distastefully, as if it was some kind of perversion. "But yet you bought a guitar with the little money you have? I knew you weren't that smart, but this... this is beyond me."

Camila swallowed dryly and glanced to her guitar. Yes, he had certainly put an end to her last guitar... "What are you doing here?"

Her father walked over to the couch, furrowing his brow as he sat down. "I'm here to help you."

She couldn't help herself and snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, right."

"Please tell me that your friend was joking when he said that you're studying English literature and music," he said scornfully and Camila narrowed her eyes. He?

"Actually, I do." She watched how her father shook his head and rolled his eyes. "And what friend are you talking about? I was not aware that someone called you. Frankly, I would have preferred if they didn't."

"I bet," her father replied and crossed his legs. "I heard, much to my dismay, that you are still using my last name."

Camila clenched her jaw. "It's also my name. I didn't choose it for myself."

He inclined his head. "That's right. Not like the other... thing. Nevertheless, I would have thought that you had taken your mother's surname after I told you to get out of my house. I had thought for sure that it would have been some kind of hint to you. But I guess I overestimated your intelligence once more."

She took a deep breath. This was going to be a difficult conversation. He obviously didn't come to make peace. "And I ask again... why are you here?"

"You see, you put me into quite the predicament," he explained and picked up the notepad, studying it with disinterest. "I cannot risk that someone makes the connection between you and me. Imagine if they found out how you lived, not being able to support yourself... while studying subjects that will not lead to anything. Not to mention your... lifestyle."

He threw the notepad in front of her feet and she carefully picked it up.

"So, it's only about your reputation? You're scared that someone might know that you disowned your own daughter?" she asked him. "I don't think you have to be afraid of anything... I doubt that anyone knows about me or what I'm doing in New York."