"Runebelle, Are you ready to go with me?"

  Runebelle said nothing.

  Not because she was unsure. Not because she was hesitating.

  Because she was seething.

  “Ahh, I get it,” Her father said softly on the phone. “You don’t have to be nervous, sweetheart. I told you—when you’re ready to call me, we start a new chapter. No more struggling. No more suffering.”

  Runebelle clenched her jaw.

  “It means more to me than you could ever imagine,” he continued. “Now… are you ready? I’m still in town. I can come pick you up.”

  Runebelle forced herself to swallow the anger burning in her throat. It wasn’t easy. Every word he spoke made her want to scream at him, to tell him exactly what she thought about his new chapter. But she couldn’t afford to lose control—not yet.

  ‘If he takes me away right now…’ she thought. ‘I don’t know what’ll happen to me.’

  The unknown terrified her.

  So, she steadied her speech as much as she could and said, “I… I don’t know.” She let hesitation slip into her tone to make it sound real. “It’s a lot to think about.”

  A short chuckle came from the other end. “That’s my girl. Always thinking.”

  She gripped the phone tighter.

  “I just—can we talk first?” she asked. “I don’t want to decide something this big over the phone.”

  There was a pause. Then, he hummed thoughtfully. “Talk, huh? Alright. I suppose that’s fair.”

  “Where are you?” she asked. “Where can we meet?”

  Her father let out a small chuckle. “The Harmony Bistro. You know the one, right? Right across from where you live? Meet me there. Shouldn’t be a long walk.”

  Runebelle clenched her jaw. She knew it. A small, cozy place that always smelled like fresh bread and coffee. It used to be somewhere she and her mother would go—back before everything fell apart.

  “Hey, wait a minute…” her father muttered with a slight tone shift. “You’re using Bill’s phone, which means you’re at the factory right now. I just left there. Aw, man…”

  “It’s fine,” Runebelle cut in. “I’ll meet you there. Just wait for me.”

  A beat of silence. Then, a small laugh.

  “Alright, alright. Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting.”

  The line clicked.

  Runebelle exhaled.

  This was it.

  She had to face him.

  Runebelle stepped back inside, spotting the same cleaner from earlier still mopping the floor. She held out the phone to him.

  "Give this back to your boss," she said flatly.

  The man paused mid-swipe and eyed the phone itself like it had personally insulted him. He let out a grumble. "Tch. Ain’t no errand boy, ya know." He snatched the phone from her hand and stuffed it into his pocket with a grunt. "Damn people always givin’ me extra work…"

  Runebelle turned and headed for the exit.

  The streets were quiet as Runebelle walked toward the Harmony Bistro. When she arrived, the Bistro’s golden lights spilled onto the sidewalk. The place wasn’t too busy—just a few late-night diners enjoying their meals—but her eyes locked onto one table immediately.

  There he was.

  She hadn't fully remembered his face until now, only the emotions tied to him—confusion, unease, and something deeper she couldn't yet name.

  His hair was a duo of blue and pink like hers and it was styled into a ridiculous pompadour that stood high and proud. He wore a rich red suit that screamed wealth, arrogance, or both.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Women in different styles of clothing surrounded him, laughing and chatting like they belonged there. Some wore elegant dresses, others were in more casual attire. They leaned in close, but the moment Runebelle stepped forward, her father snapped his fingers.

  Just like that, the women stood and without a single complaint, they left the table.

  Her father leaned back in his chair, smiling at her like she was an old friend. “Welcome.”

  Runebelle’s face didn’t change. She stepped closer. “Who were they?”

  Her father sighed. "Runebelle, now listen I got to be honest with you. I am a wealthy man. I have to maintain a certain image to keep up appearances. Those women were...well, let's just say they were part of that image."

  Runebelle stood frozen for a moment.

  Wealthy? Maintaining an image? Women as part of that image?

  Her thoughts swirled in disbelief. He was already rich when he was with Mom. He had built his own well-paying business, yet she had never seen or even heard about these women before. Had they always been there, or was this some new lifestyle he had thrown himself into after leaving them behind?

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Her father leaned forward with a smile. “You don’t know the struggles I’ve faced to get to this point. It wasn’t easy, Runebelle. But now that you’re back in my life, things are going to change.”

  He gestured toward her. “I’m going to make sure you become a wealthy woman. You’ll have everything you could ever want.”

  Runebelle’s fists clenched at her sides. The sheer audacity of it. ‘As if he’s not the reason mom’s struggling now.’

  She forced herself to breathe. She couldn’t lash out—not yet. She needed more answers.

  So instead of screaming, she tilted her head. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

  Her father leaned forward. “Runebelle, there’s something you need to know first. Business isn’t just about money. It’s about knowing what you want and having the right people to handle the rest, which is usually the boring stuff. Once I know what you want, we can set you up properly.”

  Runebelle’s heart pounded. The man before spoke in a tone that carried both pride and a hint of regret. Still, the lingering questions in her mind were too heavy to ignore. She blurted out, “And what about Mom?”

  For a long, silent moment, her father’s smile faltered. He exhaled slowly. “Your mother… she was a part of that world too,” he said carefully. “I know you never saw it, but things weren’t simple back then. There were sacrifices, struggles I had to face just to get to where I am today. I did what I thought was necessary to secure my future.”

  Runebelle’s fists clenched. “So you just... left her behind? Like she didn’t matter at all?”

  Her father’s gaze hardened for an instant, then softened again. “It wasn’t that simple, Runebelle. Your mother made choices too. And sometimes, in business and in life, people take paths that hurt those they once loved. I won’t deny that I bear responsibility for many things. But I’m telling you now—if you decide to step into this world, I promise you won’t have to suffer the way she did.”

  Runebelle spoke surprisingly steady. "Father, something happened to Mother today. I found her crying and she said something that worried me. She said that 'he' took it all. He took all of it. She seemed really upset. Do you know anything about this?"

  Her father blinked. His lips parted slightly. Then, his face melted into a frown. He tapped a ringed finger against the table. “She said that, did she?”

  Runebelle didn’t waver. “Yes. She did. And I want to know exactly what you took.”

  Her father exhaled sharply through his nose, then let out a low chuckle. “You’ve got more fire in you than I remember.” He rubbed his chin. “But let’s get one thing straight, Runebelle. I didn’t ‘take’ anything. I reclaimed what was mine.”

  Runebelle’s stomach twisted. “That doesn’t change the fact that she’s left with nothing.”

  Her father waved a hand. “Nothing? Come on, now. She has a place to live. She has you, doesn’t she? What more does she need?”

  Runebelle’s nails dug into her palms. “Money. Security. A life she doesn’t have to struggle through.”

  Her father clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, you sound just like her. Always chasing the stable road, afraid to take risks. But that’s the difference between us, my dear. I make things happen. Your mother?” He shook his head. “She let things happen to her.”

  Runebelle’s jaw tightened. Her father sighed and placed his hands together. “Look, I get why you’re upset. But you came here more than just your mother, didn’t you? We should talk about the future—not the past.”

  He met her gaze, unwavering. “So, tell me, Runebelle… are you ready to let go of her struggles and start something new?”

  Runebelle’s eyes remained fixed on her father. Rage, hurt and betrayal clashed in her chest, leaving her breathless.

  Her father’s gaze sharpened. He shifted slightly in his chair with the corners of his mouth turning downward.

  “What’s the problem, Runebelle?” he asked with condescension. “Why the silence? You came here, didn’t you? To be with me? To leave all that behind? Your mother? She’s a weight around your neck. It’s time you let go of her and the past.”

  He leaned forward and spoke with a sharper edge. “She’s nothing but a bitch who couldn’t handle things and was violent with me. You think she’s some innocent angel? She’s the reason you’re stuck there, thinking you’re ‘helping’ her when you could be—”

  The slap came so fast that even he was stunned by it. The sound of Runebelle’s hand connecting with his face echoed like a thunderclap through the bistro. For a split second, every eye was on them.

  Her father’s eyes widened. The skin on his cheek was already turning a shade of red.

  Runebelle’s hand still hovered in the air. She glared at him with all the venom she could muster.

  “You… never speak about her like that again,” she spat while raising her voice. “You don’t get to call her that! You don’t get to ruin her memory with your lies!”

  Her father’s face twisted, but it was the brief flicker of shock that passed through his eyes before his pride settled back into place that struck Runebelle the most.

  His lips curled into a sneer, but even that couldn’t cover the fact that he was rattled. “You…You…really think you can do whatever you want now? “

  Runebelle stood her ground. Her vision was blurred with tears, but her fury remained sharp as a blade.

  “Take it back,” she demanded forcefully. “TAKE BACK YOUR LIES AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”

  Her father eyed her, and in that moment, the maintained charm, the smoothness—it all faltered. What was left was a cold man’s eyes.

  He exhaled through his nose and shook his head. “I knew it,” he muttered. “I should have focused more on the other one.”

  ‘Other one?’

  A soft chorus of voices interrupted Runebelle’s thoughts.

  “Oh no, what happened?”

  “Are you okay, sir?”

  The women from earlier had returned with syrupy sweet voices. Their hands reached for him—soft touches to his arm, fingers ghosting over his reddened cheek.

  “Your daughter hit you?” one of them gasped.

  Runebelle’s father straightened. He smoothened out his suit and chuckled lowly. He cast one last glance at Runebelle.

  “Well, it looks like you girls won’t be having a new stepdaughter,” he said with a laugh that followed.

  Runebelle’s stomach churned. This was her father. This was who he truly was.

  With an effortless turn, he strolled toward a sleek black car parked just outside with his entourage following close behind. One of them opened the door for him and he slid inside.

  The door shut.

  The car pulled away.

  And Runebelle was left standing there, trembling.

  That night, lying in bed, Runebelle found herself staring at the ceiling, replaying everything. The slap. His sneer. The other one.

  Her stomach twisted.

  Tomorrow… she already knew what it meant.

  The day her mother left.

  The memory pulled her in, swallowing her whole.

  She had come home that day, expecting warmth. Instead, she had found silence.

  The door creaked as she stepped inside.

  "Mom?"

  No answer.

  She had wandered from room to room, searching. The kitchen, the living room, the hallway—nothing.

  Her mother’s things were gone.

  She didn’t know why then. Didn’t understand.

  But now she did.

  Her mother was going to—

  Runebelle curled into herself and her fists gripped the blanket of her bed.

  She could do nothing. She hadn’t known how far her mother had already gone.

  The following day, Runebelle made it to school.

  Somehow.

  She didn’t remember the walk. Didn’t remember getting dressed yet somehow, there she was. The school halls felt like tunnels, stretching endlessly, muffled voices bouncing off the walls. At some point, she was called into the principal’s office. The words spoken there were swallowed by a haze of nothingness.

  Then, just as suddenly, she was back in class. On the bench.

  The day moved past her, but she didn’t move with it.

  Nothing seemed meaningful.

  Until she went home.

  She walked up to the front door, and then she saw someone Standing on the doorstep. It was Ms. Lorraine.

  Runebelle froze.

  She remembered her—her mother’s friend. The one she had overheard talking about transferring schools. Ms. Lorraine turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, with her face softening.

  “Runebelle.” Her tone was gentle, but there was something in her eyes that made Runebelle’s stomach churn.

  Because she already knew.

  Ms. Lorraine wasn’t here for a casual visit.

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