Page 2 of Unmasked Legacy

My life is at a standstill, and I can’t move forward. My memories cripple me, and my thoughts are all consuming. The only way I will ever find happiness is to find out what happened in this town ten years ago. I never got answers as to why my father did what he did, nor did I see him again. I ran, and I continued running until, finally, it all caught up to me.

This town holds deep secrets, and I’m here to find out what they are.

“Is that all?” the cab driver calls as I pull my suitcase from the back seat, my brain in a daze.

“Yes, thank you,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Nobody in this town would remember me, right?

I disappeared and never looked back.

That doesn’t stop the crushing fear in my chest that this is all a mistake.

It’s not like I don’t stand out; I’m as pale as the stark clouds in the sky and my hair is a deep red, so vibrant that it is like a beacon, calling people to me. My eyes, the exact same as his, are as blue as the sky. I’ve been told by so many that I am a rare beauty, the kind that is so often unseen. I struggle to see that, because every time I look in the mirror, all I see ishim.

His prison is a mere half an hour up the road, a place I hope to never see, but I fear my questions may lead me there.

I need to know what really happened to my mother.

I need to know why he did what he did.

I have so many things I need answers for.

Shuffling down the sidewalk, I move toward a café, bustling with the morning rush. The café that my father and I used to come to every Sunday for breakfast. It has new owners now, and it has been so long I’m quite confident nobody here will recognize me. Hell, the old lady who ran it passed away two years ago so I have no doubt it is full of new staff.

Stomach grumbling, I rub my hand over it. I’m starving and in desperate need of a coffee. Dragging my suitcase behind me, the wheels clatter over the sidewalk as I approach the door. Hesitantly, I push the door open and am confronted with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. The café is abuzz with the murmur of conversation, and it seems nobody notices my entrance.

I breathe, just a little.

Maybe this will be okay after all.

My eyes roam the large space as I wait in line, and memories flash through my mind. Memories of the laughter my father and I shared, of the warm runny eggs and hot tea I always got. It was a happy time during my childhood, but I can’t help the way my chest clenches as I wonder if every good memory I hold dear was nothing but a lie.

The bell behind me chimes, and I glance over my shoulder to see a trio of women coming into the café, their chatter filling the peaceful space. My body immediately stiffens as recognition floods me. I know those faces. Those are the faces of my high school bullies. It was bad enough that they picked on me relentlessly, but the fact that they are still here, still clinging to each other, is like a nightmare come true.

The sharp gaze of Esmerelda, always the group leader, pins me, and her mouth drops open. She knows me, and I see the moment that recognition dawns on the remaining two by her side, Charlotte and Harriet. I turn quickly, but it doesn’t stop the sound of their whispers and gasps as they come to terms with the fact that I am here, in town.

My quiet entrance isn’t going to be so quiet after all.

My heart pounds as I step up to the counter and quietly order a coffee, praying they say nothing and wondering how I can escape this place without a confrontation. The very second I step aside, Esmerelda steps up to me, her expression a mix of curiosity and the same smug look she carried around when we were younger.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mera Sloane," Esmerelda announces, her voice carrying an edge that draws the attention of nearby patrons. "We were certain you left town for good. What brings you back?"

I fight to maintain composure, swallowing down a sassy response. I’m not here to cause trouble, I’m here for answers, and starting something with her right now will just draw unwanted attention.

“Visiting,” I say, my voice calm, my back straight as I refuse to allow her to have it over me the way she did before.

Charlotte snickers. “Visiting, huh? You should know that nobody around here wants to see your face after what your father did.”

I clench my jaw, pinning her with my gaze. I might have been quiet and fragile back then, but now, I’m done being pushed around. "Why I’m here is none of your fucking business, now back up.”

Harriet tilts her head, a feigned innocence in her tone. "Now, now, Mera. We’re not here to cause you trouble. We just didn’t expect you to come back, you know, considering the mark you left on this town.”

“Ididn’t leave a god damned thing,” I say, taking a steady breath. “Now, if you’ll excuse me ...”

Esmerelda smirks, though there's a flicker of hesitation. "Well, I hope you’re not expecting to be welcomed back with open arms. People around here aren’t so forgiving, and they certainly haven’t forgotten what your father did.”

“I’m not here to be forgiven.”

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