The Inheritances Game (Jameson Hawthorne)

Catalina Leaves

Perched on the worn wooden bench, I lost myself in the pages of my journal, eagerly awaiting Jameson's arrival. Our friendship had blossomed quickly, his daily visits a highlight of my routine. We'd shared laughs, secrets, and even a birthday cupcake, his thoughtful gesture still fresh in my mind. But as I sketched, a knot of unease twisted in my stomach at the sight of a woman flanked by two officers approaching.

I hastily tucked my bag beneath the bench, a sense of foreboding creeping over me. The air crackled with tension as they addressed me by name, their purpose hanging heavy in the air.

"Catalina Powell?"

I responded cautiously, my nerves on edge.

"Who's asking?"

"Child services, we are here to bring you back to your father he has missed you dearly." Panic surged within me at the mere thought, memories of his harshness flooding back with ferocious intensity.

I fought against the police officers grasp, desperately, struggling to get free. My heart pounding in my chest. "Please, you can't take me back there!" I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear.

The lady from child services looked at me with sympathy but remained firm. "I understand that you're scared, Catalina, but we have to follow the law. Your father has legal custody of you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I frantically searched for a way out of this nightmare. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jameson rushing towards us, his expression filled with concern.

"What's going on?" he demanded, coming to a stop in front of us.

Before anyone could answer, I seized the opportunity and shouted, "Jameson, help me! They're trying to take me back to my father!"

Jameson's eyes widened in shock, and without hesitation, he stepped forward, blocking the officers' path. "You can't do that," he insisted, his voice full of determination. "She's staying with me."

The lady from child services frowned, clearly taken aback by Jameson's sudden appearance. "I'm sorry, but we can't just leave her with you. We need to follow the proper procedures."

"Jameson, I left my bag at the bench keep it safe, please." He looked at me scared but there was nothing he could do as they pushed me into the car and got in soon all of us were driving away leaving Jameson standing there.

Jameson's Pov

As Catalina was being led away, a surge of determination coursed through me. I couldn't bear the thought of her returning to a place of fear and anguish. She wasn't just some acquaintance; she was my friend, and I couldn't stand idly by while she was taken away.

Grabbing her bag, I sprinted back to Hawthorne House, my mind racing with possibilities. My grandfather, despite his stern exterior, had a heart of gold, and I knew he'd help if I could just convince him.

Bursting into his office, I found him buried in paperwork, the lines on his face etched with concentration. Without pausing to catch my breath, I launched into a frantic explanation of 

Catalina's situation, pleading with him to intervene.

"Grandfather, you have to help her," I implored, my voice trembling with emotion. "She can't go back there. She's terrified."

For a moment, he studied me in silence, his gaze piercing yet thoughtful. I could see the conflict in his eyes as he weighed the risks and potential consequences.

Finally, with a solemn nod, he relented. "Alright, Jameson. I'll see what I can do. But we need to tread carefully."