reversing the clocks ━ g.hawthorne [edited]

14. surprise reunion.

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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I can't go back home.

I know I can't. But there's one place I can go.

I grab my phone and dial Esther Yang's number. When she picks up, she sounds just as shocked as I feel.

"Victoria?" God, I miss her voice.

"Esther. I need to come over at your place. Tell your guards I'll be there soon. Don't ask why. I need you to tell delete all CCTV footage of Yang Estate's front gate and the drive to you cabin. Got it?"

"I...," she hesitates. "Got it."

I know I can trust Esther, even if we had a year-long silent relationship.

I wipe the blood off my face with a wet wipe as I drive to Yang Estate. When I get there, the guard recognized my car almost immediately. This reminds me of the first time I went back to Hawthorne House and Oren recognized me immediately.

"Miss Ortega, we're glad to have you back," the front guard said.

I smile and nod as they let me in. I don't drive toward the house, though. Instead, I take a left and head toward what is known as the Yang Cabins. A place where the guests stay, and also where the Yang Diamond's future CEO lives.

I keep on driving until I reach large golden gates. Like the entrance of the Yang Estate, the Yang Cabins also had guards. More specifically, Esther Yang had guards. The gate pulls open without me having to verify. The guards know me, they all here know me. I've been here just as much as I've been at Hawthorne House.

I continue driving until I reach my third home. Esther's cabin. According to her, she lives in a cabin instead of her large house because she wants to be independent, but truly it's because she's afraid of large and endless spaces. It's like reverse claustrophobia, if you will. I put my car in park and step out of it. In the car, I could barely see the blood that painted my skin and clothes. But it's pretty damn clear now that I'm standing beneath the light of the cabin's porch.

I raise my hand to knock, though the door must have sensed me because it swung open before my hand reached the wood.

And there she stands, every perfect inch of her, looking as gorgeous as she always was. Compared to my fucked-up style right now, she looks like she's ready to walk the red carpet.

"Victoria," Esther tries to say, but it sounds more like a gasp. When I look into her eyes, I recall exactly why I could never bring myself to hate her—because she was too perfect.

"Hi. Hello, um. Can I come in?"

She nods and pulls the door open wider. Her cabin—her home—was completed with all the things she needed to survive. On the right, a couch that could spring open into a bed for guests. On the left, a stove, refrigerator, and cabinets for her cooking stuff. In front of the couch stood a coffee table that she used for eating, studying and doing basically everything. Her TV? right above the 'kitchen' cabinet. Her cabin was lofted—bed on top, bathroom plus laundry room plus closet down below.

Being the heiress of a large fortune and jewelry company and line, it's extremely unbelievable that she lives in a cabin instead of a large ass mansion. But being the girl she actually is, it's not that shocking that this is her choice.