Sakura felt as though she couldn't breathe. Her chest felt tight as she stood there, frozen in her spot, her mind reeling with shock, confusion, and terror.
A voice called out her name, but she didn't hear it. Warm hands cupped her face as her mind continued to be drawn into the pool of darkness.
"Sakura! Look at me. Sweetheart. Please look at me. Sakura."
Sakura blinked, and slowly, the haze of darkness lifted from her mind as Sebastian's voice became clearer in her ears.
"Sakura, sweetheart. What's wrong?" Sebastian asked in concern.
Sakura threw herself into his arms and snuggled her face against his massive warm chest. She said, her voice shaking, "I'm not feeling very well. Please take me home."
Sebastian wrapped his arm around her, his eyes dark with worry. He knew something wasn't right. She was acting very strange all of a sudden. What made her change her demeanor so suddenly? Worried, he nodded and led her to the door. He noted she was tense and her body was shaking like a leaf in a storm.
On their way back home, he didn't ask her any questions because she didn't look like she could manage that. His hands, however, held on to her tight, a gesture to remind her he was here beside her.
"Thanks for taking me to see the doctor," she said quietly at the apartment. Then before he could say anything further, she shut the door, leaving Sebastian frowning darkly with concern.
In her bedroom, Sakura locked the door as if she were afraid someone would break in and then threw herself on her bed. She lay there, her body shaking uncontrollably, as she stared into space. In her mind's eye, she was that child once again, living in Queen Mary Orphanage, being tortured and bullied by none other than Mrs. Byrd, the head mistress.
Sakura fisted her hands tight. No. No. Surely, she must have been hallucinating. Mrs. Byrd had died in the fire that night eighteen years ago. She couldn't have been alive. The woman she'd bumped into, the woman who looked so much like Tara, couldn't be Mrs. Byrd. Her mind, however, was adamant that who she'd just seen was Mrs. Byrd. After all, how could she forget the woman who had tortured her day in and day out? The woman who made her suffer when she was a little girl? Even though eighteen years had passed...
"No," Sakura whispered. "I won't believe it. You died that night. I know you died."
But as Sakura tried to convince herself, she knew the woman she'd bumped into was Mrs. Byrd. She knew also that what she'd seen that night eighteen years ago was true--Mrs. Byrd had intentionally burned down the orphanage and escaped into the darkness. Mrs. Byrd was still alive and living a very happy and rich life.
*
Julie Clark, known previously as Margaret Byrd, banged the door shut and rested her head against the frame. Her heart was still pumping loud and fast as she took in shaky breaths. She hadn't been this scared or so pissed off since the day she'd discovered her husband with another woman. Since that night she'd victoriously escaped that disastrous orphanage on St. Joseph Island, she'd thought she had put the past behind her.
After all, she deserved to enjoy her life to the fullest. Of course, she'd been doing just that for the past eighteen years. But the sight of that distasteful girl, Sakura, now fully grown and too beautiful for her liking, made her past return to haunt her.
When her heart finally slowed down to its normal rhythm and her mind cleared, she gazed long and hard at the luxury that surrounded her. Her apartment was tastefully decorated with the latest fashion and design, no expense spared. She was rich, with a prosperous business of her own. She was surrounded by men who adored her. Of course, most just wanted to have sex with her girls, but she didn't mind that. Those girls were working for her, after all, and the men grew her business with their limitless money and unsatisfied lust.
With a deep sigh, she barged into her large bedroom that overlooked Central Park. She thrust the closet open and searched for the old box she had hidden way at the back. When she pulled it out, she eyed the thing with disgust. Why didn't I throw the thing away? Why didn't I?
She unlocked the small chest and flicked it open. There, she stared long and hard at the countless letters with beautiful, clean handwriting, signed with love with the name Haruka Tanaka. Amongst those were receipts of checks ranging between fifty grand to over a few hundred. Money Julie herself had deposited into her private account, which amounted to just over two million by the time she'd left St. Joseph Island to start a new life for herself.
"I looked after the little bitch for seven years," she muttered under her breath. "I deserved that money."
Angrily, she slammed the box shut and busied herself hiding it away in the back of the closet. "Tara," she said, searching for her cell phone. With hands shaking, she dialed her daughter's number and waited. After a few rings, Tara's voice came through.
"What do you want, Mom? I told you not to ring me unless it's an emergency!"
Julie gritted her teeth and snapped, "Tara, darling, this is an emergency." Her voice was shaking, and she knew Tara could hear that.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
Julie took a deep breath. "Meet me tonight at Madam Lounge."
"What? Why can't you tell me now?"
Julie snapped, "It
's not safe. Just meet me this evening in my office."
"All right. I'll be there."
The beeping sound came through instantly, indicating Tara had hung up. Julie once again felt herself shaking with fright, her eyes on the closet where the ancient box was hidden.
*
"Get off me!" Tara muttered in annoyance, shoving a hand away.
Ray Woods lifted his head and raised a brow at her. "What is wrong with you?" he queried. He was quite annoyed that she'd interrupted him having his way with her.
Tara folded her arms against her bare breasts and said coldly, "It's my mother."
"Oh?" He sat up. "What does she want?"
"She wants to meet tonight," Tara said, looking heavenward. "Thing is, she sounded like she'd just shit herself."
Ray laughed. "That's funny." At Tara's glare, he said, "Your mother's a bitch, Tara. We both know that. I've worked for her, doing her dirty work, for five years now. I know that woman's mental."
Tara snorted. "If she's mental, then why the hell are you working for her?"
Ray shrugged. "She pays good money. And I like the job."
Tara saw him smile and knew what he meant. He loved living dangerously and doing illegal things. That was what drew her to him the moment they'd first met a year ago after James Princeton had kicked her out of his family.
She was so pissed that her plans in getting rid of Sakura had failed that she returned to New York and started drinking herself stupid. When she became broke and, of course, couldn't ask Alaina for any more money to keep her going, she'd turned to her own mother--who supposedly died eighteen years ago--for help.
Of course, she'd found out when she'd turned sixteen nine years ago and received an anonymous letter that Margaret Byrd wasn't dead. At first, she'd been so pissed with her own mother for pulling off such a selfish stunt, for burning down the orphanage and running off, leaving her to fend for herself. But then again, the circumstance had also given her the opportunity to be adopted by one of the wealthiest families in America, with Alaina's help of course. She'd used her wits and tricks to get the gullible girl to become her best friend and made her do everything she'd ever wished for.
Tara sighed and got out of bed, naked. Ray admired her slender form and said, "Where you going?"