Page 22 of To Hell

How long has it been since I heard that name? What does she look like now? How has her fashion evolved?

Tears prick my eyes as I stroke her name on the glossy paper.

They have taken so much from me.

I sniff. Maybe I can take my life back from here. Maybe that is what I should be doing. Maybe that is what this is about.

Life is giving me a second chance. The universe is telling me to dream again after so many years.

I might not have the same dream as I did then, but I can dream again—within the confines of my prison.

I wipe a tear as it rolls down one cheek.

I will get the suit ready within one week and any other outfit my master wants after that. I don’t care if he wants them within twenty-four hours. I will do whatever I can to prove myself to him. I will prove my worth.

Then, when I have proven myself enough to earn it, I will ask him to take me to see Valerie Moore’s store. Just once. To let me pay homage to my fashion idol.

I clutch the magazine to my chest, hugging it tightly.

Life is giving me another shot, and I’m grabbing it with both hands.

For myself and…

For Virgilio.

Chapter Thirteen

VIRGILIO

She will love it.

I bite my lower lip, holding in my smile that’s threatening to burst through as I walk down to school.

Today is a special day, and it’s thanks to Zoe.

I cannot wait to see the look on her face when I give her the SD card and she sees what I have done with the pictures. She will love them. I’m sure of that.

I used the template for some of the pictures I saw in the fashion magazine to work on the saturation, but she already did the main work of ensuring the lighting and the angles were perfect.

While staying up all night to edit them, I couldn’t believe I was the one in the photos. It was surreal and thrilling.

She is onto something, and Valerie Moore will see it, too.

I stop at the school gate and puff as I brace for a good day.

Life feels good.

It’s almost lunch break, and Zoe is not here.

I looked for her everywhere within the school’s perimeter, but she was nowhere to be found.

Even though she is a cheerful person, she only speaks to me. Nobody knows anything about her, and no one is interested enough to ask. She always seems to find anything to talk about other than herself.

I scowl as I scratch my head, glaring at the literature teacher as she blabs on about figures of speech and whatnot in some Shakespearean play.

Zoe and I studied the play together. I wasn’t interested in it, but she was. She likes art in every form. And now, I’m in one of her favorite classes, and she is not here.

I bounce my feet, my eyes flipping from the board to her empty seat.

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