Chapter 2 Hope or despair

The woman gestured toward the seat across from her, and Cybil sat down, offering a polite smile. "I went through your qualifications, Miss Cybil..." The woman's voice was cold and domineering, slicing through the silence and awkwardness of the room. Cybil straightened her back nervously. She needed this job-desperately. The last place she tutored had been a nightmare. The father of the child she was hired to teach turned out to be a perverted, sickening man. Unable to endure it any longer, she quit. But that wasn't the end-he had the audacity to smear her reputation among other parents.

Westham Ville was a town deeply divided, with a stark line drawn between the privileged and the less privileged. The zones said it all: Zones 1 through 4 were home to those barely getting by, while Zones 5 and 6 served as sanctuaries for the elite. It wasn't a new story. The wealthy took their children's education seriously-but not for noble reasons. Behind closed doors, it was all about competition and social clout. Their children were trophies, and academic achievement was just another thing to boast about. This environment created the perfect opportunity for Sean Wilbur-a robust man more concerned with personal gain than passion. Cybil had met him twice while applying to his academy. He had built an empire off the back of elite ambition: a prestigious teaching institute and after-school tutorial program, hiring only the best tutors money could buy. Being hired there would have been a game-changer for Cybil. But instead of recognizing her talent, Sean looked no further than her background. Fortunately, she wasn't alone. She had the support of two of the best people in her life: Theo Evans, her childhood friend-now a police officer-who was also the son of the former sheriff. And Anne Warren, a fashion enthusiast with a sharp mind and a mother who owned a successful fashion magazine. They both resided in Zone 5-a privilege earned through hard work and the weight their names carried. It was a status Cybil had never dreamed of. She had always been content with the meager scraps and daily feedings she could manage to get by. Anne had played a pivotal role in their advancement, leveraging her teaching job and the credibility that came with graduating from a reputable university. It all added to her impressive credentials. "Would starting next week be okay for you, ma'am?" The woman's cold voice sliced through Cybil's thoughts. "Is starting next week fine by you, Miss Cybil?" she repeated. "Yes, ma'am," Cybil replied, adjusting herself. "As I mentioned earlier, the little miss is quite special. Caution is crucial. Working at the Fitch mansion demands absolute secrecy and confidentiality. The master prefers it that way." She paused, and Cybil could almost feel her gaze piercing into her soul. "Miss Cybil, you work with your eyes and mouth closed," the woman concluded sternly. She stood up-a silent cue that the conversation had ended. Cybil followed her lead. As they stepped out of the café, Cybil could finally breathe. The fresh air and the warmth of the sun revived her. Inside, the tension had made her legs feel like jelly. She regretted not even being able to enjoy the coffee earlier. She would've forgotten the woman's presence altogether if not for the arrival of the sleek black BMW. The engine's soft purr announced its presence with understated luxury. *Damn, now that's luxury,* she thought. "I look forward to your arrival at the Fitch mansion," the woman said, now offering a handshake. "Thank you for your time, ma'am," Cybil responded with a polite smile. "I'm Freya, by the way." "Oh, I almost thought that was a secret too-for privacy," Cybil muttered just loud enough for Freya's sharp ears to catch. The older woman gave a knowing smile. Realizing her slip, Cybil bit her lip nervously. Thankfully, Freya let it pass, turning gracefully toward the car before driving off. Left alone with her thoughts, Cybil sighed, looking up at the harsh afternoon sun. "I really wonder if it's hope or despair that lies ahead," she murmured before calling a taxi. She would have looked forward to the comfort of home-if today were just another day. But a quiet voice echoed in her mind, a grim reminder of what today truly marked: The release of Isaac Hales-her father, and her demon. She stands at the base of the staircase leading to the upstairs door, staring at the flickering bulb overhead-its dim twitch a silent signal that its time is nearly up. Her complexion is pale, almost ghostly, and a deep, knowing fear pricks at her heart. A sudden, abrupt sound slices through the silence-her familiar ringtone. It jolts her out of her reverie. The caller ID reads: *Anne*. She has never been so relieved to see her friend's name flash across the screen. Exhaling a shaky breath, she answers. "Hey, Cybil." "..." "..." "I'm on my way," Anne says softly, her words filling the silence with a meaning only they seem to understand. Between the two of them, even silence has always been its own kind of language. Ending the call, Cybil remains rooted at the foot of the stairs. Relief washes over her at the thought of her friend's impending presence. The night is chilly, the hour growing later by the minute. But soon, the soft hum of a car engine reaches her ears, and headlights illuminate her doorway. Anne's car pulls up-*she must have rushed*, Cybil thinks, a pang of guilt hitting her chest. She watches as Anne approaches, her expression that of a worried mother. She's wearing a loose gown-probably the first thing she could grab-and her blonde hair is still damp, fresh from the shower, droplets glistening in the dim light. *If dying from guilt is an option,* Cybil thinks, *please let it be now.* "Are you alright? Did you see him? Where is he? Have you called Theo?" Anne fires off in quick succession. "I'm not sure you want me to answer all of that," Cybil replies with a soft smile. "I'm fine, by the way. I just missed your breathtaking face-though I see you brought the haggard one instead," she adds with a playful smirk. Anne lets out a relieved laugh, her shoulders relaxing. "Get out, silly. You had me running in circles!" "Sorry," Cybil says with mock guilt. "Now, let's get inside and dry your hair. You're going to catch a cold, and I don't need any more reasons to feel like crap... Oh-and my hair dryer's broken, by the way." Her voice echoes lightly as they climb the stairs together, the weight between them already starting to lift. "You could have told me about the dryer, you know," Anne said as she entered the room. "And have you bring every appliance you can fit into my room?" Cybil replied softly, her tone teasing. "Besides, it still works well-just a little faulty," she added, then plugged in the dryer. A quiet moment followed as she dried her friend's hair. Both women were lost in their thoughts. --- Anne became friends with Cybil during high school, the memory of that lone girl still vivid in her mind. It wasn't uncommon for transfer students to arrive right before the school year ended. Money, after all, could fix anything. But what was unusual was seeing the usually cold and aloof Theo Evans being so nice and attentive to someone else-and a girl at that. Not that Anne liked him or had any special feelings for him, as many of the girls in school did. She gazed at Cybil, whose auburn hair gleamed, her sapphire eyes as stunning as they were distant. There was something about her-a beauty that seemed void of emotion, shallow yet carrying an unspoken pain. Anne wouldn't lie: Cybil was a different kind of beautiful. She watched as the two of them continued their conversation, Theo doing most of the talking while Cybil listened in silence, offering a small smile here and there. It was a smile tinged with melancholy, half-hearted and distant. At first, Anne's feelings for Cybil had been like those you might have for a cute stray cat-wanting to bring it home, to shelter it, to keep it safe and hopefully see it open up. But approaching Cybil wasn't easy. The girl had her walls up high, especially with Theo acting as her little bodyguard, keeping everyone at bay. Things could have been better if Cybil hadn't disappeared from school for an entire week. Asking Theo about it seemed pointless; the boy probably wouldn't give any information. Then, one summer afternoon, word spread across the school that Cybil Hale's mother had died from cancer. The whispers began. "I knew that girl was trouble," Fat Joe, a cocky, spoiled kid, said to his friends. "Her family's bad luck. Her dad's a madman-beats her and her mom, so the sheriff took her in." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "But then he finds her again, and finally kills her mother. Stay away from her, man. A murderer's daughter could ruin your reputation." He chuckled, earning laughs from his audience of eager listeners. Anne had heard enough of the gossip. Without thinking twice, she landed a punch square on Fat Joe's nose, breaking it with a sickening crunch. "Say one more word about her, and I might just break your jaw next," she spat, standing over the bulky boy who had once been the source of terror for the others. Fat Joe's respect vanished in an instant. As Anne expected, there were consequences. Fat Joe couldn't take the blow to his ego and had his father, a powerful businessman, back him up. But with those consequences came an unexpected outcome: a new friendship. Cybil returned to school a week later. The other kids kept their distance, but Cybil seemed unaffected, as if she were used to it. "Hey, mind if I sit next to you?" a soft voice whispered behind Anne, who, like Cybil, had been forced to endure the kids' fearful glances and had taken to eating alone. Anne looked up and met Cybil's sapphire eyes, the ones she had always wanted to get a closer look at. --- Smiling at the nostalgic memory, Anne glanced up at Cybil, who was still engrossed in drying her hair. "So, how was the gig you applied for?" Anne asked, finally breaking the silence.