The Billionaire's Ballerina

Chapter Four

Kimberly

I gingerly walked down the hall of the three story building of my apartment. My eyes were downcast as I fidgeted with the straps of my black handbag. My room was on the top floor but I took my time because I was in no hurry to get there.

With every agonising arrival, I was greeted by an empty room and the usual lonely hollowness that swallowed me. A quiet abyss that would either grant me peace or give voice to my pain.

I laughed at myself. After residing in that same room for the past five years, I should be used to it by now. Running away from home to start afresh didn't seem to be working out for me. Each day brought new paranoia and it wasn't a good feeling to live with. Sometimes I even felt like I was going crazy.

I swallowed the knot that formed in my throat and let out a tight smile when I stepped out of the elevator. I was a "cheerful" woman and I couldn't be caught wallowing in self-pity. I had to look as natural as possible just in case I bumped into one of the neighbors.

Ever had your family working against you?

Plotting your demise?

Your downfall?

Your death?

Have you ever had your family point fingers at you and look at you with so much disgust for something you didn't do? Something that they won't even give you a chance to explain?

I finally stood in front of the red wooden door that led to my room before letting out a relived breath. Walking all the way up here felt like a battle, especially putting on a fake smile to show everybody that I was fine despite my endless nerves.

I pulled out the key from my handbag and stared at the door. Making no attempt to do more than that, the key gradually warmed up in my closed palm and I thought of going somewhere else first to pass time. I didn't need to be here. Nobody needed me here.

"You're back?" a familiar voice behind me asked.

I quickly turned to face Jeffrey, my neighbor, whose apartment was right across mine. "You startled me."

Jeffrey was a kind, fifty-two year old man with a stern face. Being a close family friend back in the day, he was the only person in this city who knew who I am and where I'm from. His tall frame was sturdy and he sported salt and pepper hair. Despite his age, he didn't look much like it.

"Sorry, dear." He smiled apologetically. "On my way up, one of the workers approached me to ask about unclaimed mail that arrived over a month ago." He handed a white envelope to me. "There's something for you."

I stared at it then back at him. "I'm not going to take it. Didn't you think that there is a reason why I don't collect mail?"

"Well, when I saw that it was addressed to you, I couldn't help myself."

I frowned. "I frankly don't care about whatever is in there."

"It might be a clue, Kim."

"A clue to what? How long they've decided I'll live?"

"Maybe, but it's better than not knowing." He attempted to give it to me once again. "I know that you're as curious as I am."

I hesitantly took it before eyeing it suspiciously. My wariness grew when I noticed that there was no return address on it and I looked at Jeff. "Who...?"

He shrugged. "I thought you said that nobody knows your whereabouts."

"Nobody does. I didn't tell anyone," I replied honestly.

He looked thoughtful then asked with a voice full of concern, "What if they find you?"

"They won't." I clutched the envelope tightly. "I know exactly what I'm doing."