Page 49 of Isabela

“Jasper Perry is one,” Theodore tells me.

“Hmm, he‘s been with the company for years. He develops the new technology that’s always put us on the map for our sector,” I muse. Theodore’s brow raises, making me shrug. “I am staying away from the company for my own safety, not because I want to. Being at school used to keep me protected, but my uncle is so desperate now, he doesn’t care about keeping up pretenses. At the Cohen Literary Foundation fundraiser, no one blinked, when he dragged me by the hair to an empty office. They whispered to themselves, but no one cared.”

“There may be a reason for that.” Theodore pushes his plate to the side as he leans forward. “I’ve been leaning hard on the Society to find out things about your uncle. The Cohen Literary Foundation was started by your parents, but no longer stands for what it did before. Now it’s a front for sex trafficking, and it appears as if that’s where Mayor Markship was getting his women.”

My stomach rolls, and I breathe through my nose as I struggle to keep my food down. “Fuck me,” I whisper. “He made me go that night, saying he was going to write a check in my name from my now nonexistent trust fund. I just… fuck.”

I can’t even form words right now. I pick up a glass filled with water and take a sip. “I may need something stronger than this,” I mutter.

“Absolutely,” Gael says. A maid comes outside to clear the table, and Theodore asks her to bring drinks out to the lake.

“I think we need a change of scenery, don’t you?” Theodore asks. I nod quickly because the smell of food is threatening to make me nauseous.

“Yes, please.”

Standing quickly, I walk with them down the vine covered path. The sun peeks through the archway, and it gives the backyard a fairytale appearance.

“I wish I could say I can’t believe it, but it makes so much sense,” I murmur as we walk. “Why did my parents leave everything to him to manage?”

“I don’t think they did,” Theodore says as we stop to watch some butterflies. God, I can’t believe this is his backyard. “Your parents went through a red light, but I heavily believe the brakes were tampered with. My son, Harrison swears there’s no way Reuben Cohen would ever run a red light otherwise. We got into quite an argument about it.”

My lips twitch at the thought of that before I sober.

“Harrison was always wonderful to me whenever I saw him,” I say softly. “My parents went to the store while I was at school, and they would usually wait, so I could go with them, because I have a habit of craving snacks in the middle of the night. Instead, they went alone and there have been so many days where I wish I had been with them.”

The tears rise again unbidden, making me dash them away angrily. “I know people would say to get over it and pull up my big girl panties, but I hate it. I wish they were here still, because life without them really fucking hurts,” I cry out.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I continue to stare out at the garden, shuddering when Theodore puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Miriam and Reuben were wonderful people, though I didn’t know them well. They would be happy you weren’t in that car with them, Isabela, because you’re also their heir and the best parts of them,” he says. I gasp as I cry. I shouldn’t speak like this, but the last few years have been really difficult.

“In a perfect world, one where things can actually happen, what would you want the next three months to look like?” Gael asks patiently. I love that he lets me feel however I need to. I keep waiting for both of them to tell me to suck it up, but it hasn’t happened yet.

“I want to be able to be free,” I rasp, thinking. “I don’t want to have to jump when my uncle calls, or worry I’m going to be beaten and finally killed by one of his rages. I don’t want to be raped.”

My voice cracks at the word, because how many twenty-one year old women have to worry about things like this? I haven’t been normal since my parents died.

“What else?” Theodore asks. His voice is as encouraging as it is demanding, and it eases the weight on my heart.

Inhaling the sweet scents of the flowers around me, I think about what I want beyond the immediate.

“I want to clean up my company,” I decide. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish college and do this, but after my parents died, I only went to school to get some space.”

Turning to face Theodore and Gael, I sigh. “I know it’ll be harder, but I want to dismantle the Cohen Literary Fund. This means finding the people working these sex trafficking rings and either putting them in prison or finding a more permanent solution,” I say. “I don’t know what you’re going to need from me to do that…”

“The Society doesn’t need fuck all from you,” Theodore growls, surprising me. He doesn’t seem like the type of man who curses. “Now, I would love it if you joined the fold, since it would give you more resources, and I can also help you manage leading a company and finishing school. You only have one more year, right?”

“Yes, I’m almost done. My uncle has been threatening to get me to drop out of college for the last seven months,” I admit. “So it almost feels like a pipe dream at this point to finish.”

“You’re too bright not to finish. Your math teachers all have glowing things to say about you,” Gael says.

“Stalker,” I mutter, giggling. Dragging the back of my hands along my cheeks to dry my tears, I watch as the maid comes down the path with a tray of drinks.

“Here you are,” she says with a smile as she hands them out. I’m amused by the fact that it’s scotch, and so early in the day.

“Scotch helps an overload of emotions,” Theodore says with a shrug as he takes a glass. Shaking my head, I go with it and pick one up as well. “Shall we walk and talk?”

Gael takes his own glass and links his fingers in mine, and again Theodore doesn’t seem to care. Strolling together, I think about his words.

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