𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 13 | Water lilies

Last week, Levai, Lizbet, Sandrine, Delia and Erin returned to Madrid.

This home was finally empty but I couldn't help but feel as if a piece of me went with them.

I'm on the boat with a bottle of cider in hand. The view is beautiful yet predictable apart from the new boats that park along the river each morning.

I started watching tutorials online to learn how to put it into gear. I had to start somewhere.

Holding the keys in my palm, I held onto the tiller, a mechanism which helped steer the boat. Before I could continue, the landline inside started to ring.

"Hello?" I ask, coming inside.

"I'll be there soon."

The call ended, and I returned back to the garden, finishing the last of my bottle.

I wanted to explore the city as I finally had a grasp of my tasks. The home looked as if it should be on a real estate website all except the dreaded master bedroom of course.

Before Delia left, she waited for Erin and her kids to walk out of the door.

"Whatever you do, don't clean the bedroom."

I only nodded at her tentatively, thankful I weren't to be responsible for that state.

The intercom rings, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Hi."

"Hello Miriam." Elijah says, his sandy hair clouding the front of his face.

LEVAI

Standing outside of the room for the University interview, the beige walls almost appear to be caving in. The building was beautifully historic, reflecting the purest intentions that would captivate an artist's soul.

Yet my nerves meant that the building would have to be admired another time.

My legs begin to bounce up and down, and the familiar feeling of uncertainty creeps within me.

"They're ready for you darling." An assistant says, walking me down the open hallways.

"Nervous?" She questions, looking back at me biting my fingernails like a dipshit. Her appearance appears as if she earns seven figures a year, and I begin to feel completely out of place despite the fact that I came from money.

She opens the door and discreetly places a note inside of my blazer pocket. Later on, I'd find out that it was her telephone number attached with her name, Adriana.

"Good afternoon sir."

An old gentleman is sitting ahead of me, and my mock interviews tell me to sit down in the empty vacancy beside him.

"Nice to meet you Mr Anderson." His suit looks extremely professional, with an odd choice of tie. It was embroidered with metal roses and was a welcome distraction.

"It's an honour." Before me was a world-class biochem engineer. I couldn't stop thinking to myself what the actual fuck was I doing here.

After our rigorous academic discussion, I felt like passing out. I left the room feeling a complete lack of confidence, aware that he'd been challenging every word I spoke.

How'd you do? Anne texts despite the fact she's across the hall.

That was the worst thing I've ever experienced. I think to send back, but I restrain myself.