2 DIFFERENT WORLDS -

"In peace, I say I am the former of what goes forward. No more, I stay where I am, I prefer to remain distant..." - Answer, Skank.

The night was cold, the strong wind made the leaves on the trees sway violently, indicating that heavy rain would certainly start to fall any minute. Although the temperature was low, cold was the least of my feelings at that moment, as I was busy pouring champagne into the luxurious crystal glasses and arranging the sophisticated delicacies on the tray so that the waiters and waitresses hired for that typical upper class event would take them all away. I looked at that kitchen full of people running from one side to the other, all focused on doing their job in the most impeccable way possible, taking into account that this was one of the many exquisite parties of the brilliant and popular Carter family, known for its tradition in the law business, where Kyara and Henrico Carter were the most prestigious couple in this area.

Kyara is the most influential lawyer in the area of Family Law, where she is well known for her work in litigious divorces - divorces that occur in a non-amicable way, i.e., where there are conflicts in the conjugal life and this results in a lawsuit - and has received several awards, being also a partner in a renowned law firm. Henrico is a criminal lawyer and owner of one of the most powerful law firms in the country, gaining recognition by defending - and winning - famous cases that were covered in the media. The two had a son, John, who also decided to pursue a career in law, having graduated just over three years ago. They were definitely commendable in this regard.

I looked over and saw that my mother was running her hand over her forehead and sighing wearily as she finished cutting some tomatoes. I walked over to her and gently took the knife from her hand, receiving a confused look in response to my act.

"Let me do it, Mom. Sit down for a moment," I said, already starting to cut the tomatoes into small cubes.

"No need, child. You're already helping a lot, you're not even supposed to be doing this. And be careful, the knife is sharp." She argued, trying to take the knife from my hand, but I stopped her.

"Do you think I'm so clumsy that I can't cut some tomatoes?" She looked at me debauched, as if she didn't even need to answer me.

I stared at her dumbfounded.

"I want to help, don't be stubborn, Miss Mary." I giggled at her resigned face, already knowing that I wouldn't give up. I watched her sit down on one of the benches scattered around the huge kitchen and went back to my previous task, being careful not to cut myself.

My mother had long worked as a cook in the Carter household, and I have many memories of watching her cook while I drew and did my homework sitting at the table. After my father's death I began to accompany her to her workplace on a daily basis. When I started kindergarten, my mother would drive me to work and back, one of her friends would pick me up and drive me to the mansion, which became unnecessary as I grew older and was able to come and go on my own. During this time, I rarely saw John walking around the house, after all, he always had many activities to do, and you could often hear Ms. Kyara hurrying him to swimming lessons, horseback riding, guitar lessons, and everything else you can imagine.

I could never understand this fixation of rich people to cram their children with a million tasks.

With the death of my father, our financial situation went from bad to worse, to the point where we were in danger of being evicted from our house due to non-payment of rent. At that time it was horrible, I was still a child, I didn't really understand what was wrong, but I saw my mother constantly desperate and suffering to pay off debts. This was not possible with her salary alone, so Ms. Kyara offered the house in the back of the mansion for us to live in, as long as it didn't interfere with my mother's work income.

It was an annex, like a caretaker's house, located in the back of the main house. She readily accepted and we live here to this day. The money that went to the rent and other expenses was invested in my education together with an amount that was kept in a savings account that my father had left for me, exactly for this purpose, and with this, in the first year of high school, I was able to enter a great and renowned school. In the beginning I had a hard time keeping up with the teaching - which was extremely demanding - and another annoying situation was having to deal with my classmates and even students from other periods. The vast majority - if not all - students at the school enjoyed an excellent financial life and lived comfortably, and when people questioned me about my parents' occupation, I was insecure about telling them that I was quite different from them in this respect, after all, people did not know how to deal with social inequalities and this led to jokes and mean comments. Even so, I decided to speak out, because I was never ashamed of my mother or her profession.

When I was in my first year of high school John had just entered college, choosing not to move away to study elsewhere because at that time Ms. Kyara developed serious health problems, and since Mr. Henrico constantly travels out of the country, he did not want to leave his mother alone. John passed Law School in a great college - one of the best in the country and located in the city - being, coincidentally, the college I had always wanted to attend. With this in mind, I studied hard, tormented my professors, focused day and night on the books - often getting scolded by my mother for my lack of rest - and finally got my dream job. Now I was heading towards the end of the Psychology course, looking forward more and more to the day I would finish college and, of course, to the day of my dream graduation.

I finished cutting the last tomato at the moment that the blessed slipped, causing the knife to run into my index finger, forming a rather ugly cut. I let out a murmur of pain, watching as blood flowed uncontrollably from the cut at the same time as I felt a throbbing burning sensation in it.

"Helena, what did I tell you?" my mother sprang up beside me, looking minutely at my bruised finger.

"The tomato slipped" I cried making a grimace of pain, going to the sink in order to wash off the blood.

"Here, put this paper on to control the bleeding," She handed me the paper and I wrapped it around my finger. "I'll go find a band-aid and merthiolate.

"Mary, I wonder if you could help me here?" A girl asked, pointing to a pile of pans.

"It's okay, Mom. I left the kitchen and headed for the small bathroom that was near the service area.

I opened the cabinets and looked everywhere, finding neither the band-aid nor the merthiolate. I huffed, holding the paper more firmly on my finger, and went to the pantry where the medicines and bathroom products were kept. I opened the door and went inside, starting my search again, feeling my finger throbbing more and more. I was distracted going through the shelves until I noticed a movement in the place. I turned around and jumped dumbly in fright when I saw that someone had entered.

John was standing near the door, looking at me with the biggest question mark possible.

He was wearing a tight white dress shirt with the sleeves folded up at the elbows; his tie and jeans were black, and his shoes were dark brown. His hair contained a mixture of charm and rebellion. He looked handsome and...

Whoa, wait a minute.

But what?

Yes, I was over-analyzing him.

I frowned at my attitude and came out of the moon world, returning to reality.

I noticed that his gaze was directed at something, followed his observation and saw that he was staring at my injured finger where the paper was crumpled and stained with blood. By instinct, I withdrew my hand and flashed him a wry smile when he returned to me with his usual serious expression. I turned back to the shelf, thanking heaven that I had finally found the band-aid and the merthiolate. I picked them both up and John was still standing near the door, running his eyes over the shelves, looking lost as he searched for something while waiting for me to leave, since the place wasn't big enough for the two of us.

"Can I help?" I subtly asked him, who looked away from the pantry and back to staring at me.

"No, you can go" his thick subtly husky voice made itself present.

I nodded and left, wanting to get the dressing done as soon as possible.

"Is everything okay?" the deep voice sounded again. I stopped walking and looked back, confused. He was still standing near the door, but now his hands were in his pants pockets and his face remained serious. Realizing that I didn't understand what he was talking about, John pointed with his head to my injured finger.

"Oh, yeah. It's all right. It's just a little cut," I replied, waving my hand as if it were nothing. Noticing his silence, I smiled goodbye, ready to leave the place for good. He nodded in return, and I walked back, hurrying to take care of the cut and help my mother again.

I had lived here for many years, and in all that time the most John and I had said to each other was "good morning", "good afternoon" and "good evening". Well... Sometimes he would also ask me if I knew where something was.

From time to time I had the impression that he didn't like me very much, and the idea of bothering him made me uncomfortable.

John was in the office all day, and I was in college. On Saturdays, I worked part-time at a record store, arriving in the afternoon, and hardly ever saw John's car in the garage. I finished putting the band-aid on my finger and stopped my daydreams, going back to the kitchen and finding everyone the same way: working.

"I thought you got lost in the rooms," my mother commented in a playful tone.

"What do I do now?" I asked, looking around.

"Nothing for now, daughter. You can rest. If I need anything, I'll call you." She was preparing some snacks that looked wonderful. I took one and received a scolding look. I laughed and looked out the window, realizing that, as predicted, a torrid rain was beginning to fall.

From afar, the soft melody of some song could be heard. I went into the dining room and carefully approached the door that led to the huge living room where the party was taking place. I tried to stay as hidden as possible, since I didn't want to appear curious or nosy. I just liked to enjoy the atmosphere and the always beautiful decorations that were created. Several people were distributed around, all in their luxurious costumes, laughing and chatting, like in the most perfect milk powder commercial. The waiters circulated among the guests with great skill, everything in the most exquisite order as they distributed canapés and drinks, serving and handing out glasses to those who didn't have one. I continued to look around, stopping at a select group of people, and in the middle of them were John and his girlfriend, Cassie. They communicated with each other with smiles and laughter.

John was bare-chested with one of his arms around her shoulders, who in turn was keeping one of her own arms wrapped around his waist. I gave a faint smile and sighed, focusing my attention elsewhere.

"Haven't you ever heard that spying is ugly?" a voice blew into my ears, making me jump startled from the fright. I looked back immediately, and when I saw who it was, I rolled my eyes. It was Bryan, John's best friend.

"Didn't you have a less cliché phrase than that?" I retorted, making the most bored face I could manage.

- Good evening, Lena. Enjoying the party?" he stopped in front of me with a cocky smile on his face. I took a deep breath.

"I glared at him, crossing my arms and continuing to look at the event, ignoring Bryan, who was standing next to me.

"Ouch, you're so hot. That makes me hurt" he retorted with a tone that emanated false offense. I rolled my eyes and decided I had better get out of there. I turned my back and walked toward the kitchen, but not before hearing him say one last time, "Leaving already? Does my presence affect you that much?"

I stopped halfway, giving him a crossed look and a disdainful smile.

"To affect me that much," I stressed, "your presence would have to affect me at least a little, which it doesn't. I just don't usually pay attention to the things that affect me. I just don't usually pay attention to what doesn't add up to me," I smiled cynically as he looked at me with a mocking frown, and I walked back to the kitchen without looking back.

The rest of the evening went on as usual. I stayed so busy that I didn't even notice how quickly the hours passed. I looked at the wall clock and was startled to see that it read 2:35. The kitchen cleaners were already putting away the utensils that were out of place, tidying, soaping and sweeping in order to leave the kitchen spotlessly clean.

"Lena, daughter. You can go home, you worked today. I'll stay here and finish helping" my mother said, appearing to be as tired as I was, as she dried the dishes. I nodded, picking up the dish she had just dried and putting it away.

"Judith appeared in front of us, smiling tenderly. She was a nice lady who occasionally helped out at parties and in the kitchen, and I thought of her as a grandmother. My mother opened her mouth to contradict, but Judith held up one hand, showing her palm as if to say that she would not accept being contradicted. We smiled at her and said goodbye to the rest of the people there. The temperature seemed to have dropped a little more after the rain had stopped, and all I could think about was my warm bed. As soon as he saw me, Benedict, John's dog, came running towards me, rubbing himself against my leg begging for affection. He was an extremely affectionate German shepherd and couldn't see me and wouldn't let go.

"Look who showed up! You know your owner is going to freak out when he realizes that you went out and got your paws wet, don't you?" I said to him while stroking the back of his ears. Benedict stared at me as if he understood me, and I could have sworn that this dog would start talking someday. I was serious. I looked ahead of me and noticed that John and Cassie were saying goodbye to Bryan, who was getting into his car, ready to leave. John and Bryan had been best friends for years, by the time I moved here, they were already close and did everything together "Go over there with your owner and he is looking for you, tomorrow I promise I will play with you" Benedict tilted his head to the side and did not move "Go, look at him coming" I laughed and stroked his back, seeing, from far away, John coming to meet his dog, who looked at me one last time, finally running to his owner.

He put his hands on the dog's head, staring at its paws and saying something I couldn't hear. The two of them headed inside the mansion accompanied by Cassie, who was waiting for them outside. I assumed that she would probably sleep there. I felt the icy breeze hit my face and hurried into the house, already noticing that my nose was getting cold from the cold. I took a hot shower and fell into bed, falling fast asleep.

Sunday dawned sunny, although the temperature was not high. The sky was clear and extremely blue, not even looking like a heavy rain had fallen the night before. I had been playing with Bento on the open grass for hours, already feeling tired and with pain in my legs - sedentariness says hello, Helena - not seeing a sign of exhaustion in the German shepherd, who was looking for the little ball that I had just thrown. The house was empty, as earlier everyone had gone out for breakfast and to accompany Mr. Henrico to the airport, as he would be traveling in a few hours.

"No, Bento! Not in the mud!" I ran to try to reach him and stop him from going into the garden, otherwise the damage would be very ugly. "BENTO, DO YOU WANT TO SEE ME DEAD? I was about to finish shouting for the dog that was running happily towards its forbidden destination, until I tripped over my feet, falling like an avocado falling off a tree. As if by some magic step, Benedict immediately stopped running and looked back, and believe me, if a dog laughed, he would be laughing. I was lying on the ground feeling my clothes dirty with the grass still damp from last night. The dog came toward me, sitting in front of me, and I huffed, seeing that he finally stopped running, but I had to take a bad tumble for that to happen.

"Are you satisfied? Did Taz-Mania possess you today or something?" and there I was, chatting with a dog that was watching me like I was crazy, as I lay there on the grass, just the way I fell. I guess you get the idea." I turned over, surrendering, since my clothes were dirty anyway, and stared up at the clear sky. Benedict lay down next to me and I began to caress him. I don't know how long I stayed that way, feeling totally relaxed, however, I was suddenly awakened when I heard that deep voice, which seemed to be too close.

"Bento!" it called, attracting the attention of the dog who raised his head with his ears arched. I rose quickly, running my hands through my grass-filled clothes, somewhat dazed.

John was wearing a running suit and Bento's collar in hand, alternating his gaze between me and the dog, already standing beside me. He did the typical nodding greeting and I responded with a smile, already walking away when I suddenly felt a jolt in my body and once again the thud of the ground. Bento jumped on me, making me fall on my butt, starting to sniff me and interspersing the act with frantic licks on my face. What had gotten into that dog? I was taken totally by surprise and could only cover my face and laugh, trying to get up and free myself from the euphoric dog.

"Bento, stop!" John spoke and I tried, with difficulty, to push him away. Seeing that his dog would not stop so soon, he came up behind me, slipping his arms under mine and lifting me up all at once, and in the act, my back slammed against his chest, causing us to stagger backwards a little. As if sensing my embarrassment, Benedict stopped his exaltation and started to stare at me and John, who released me gently, going to put the collar on him. I ran my hand through my hair in an attempt to adjust it a little, still stunned.

"John asked the dog, who pretended that it wasn't even him, and laid his eyes on me. "Did he hurt you?" he questioned, analyzing me, and I denied it.

"No, he's just a little agitated today." I replied and he agreed with a nod of his head.

"I'll tire him out some more, then." he gave a simple, sneaky smile. "There's grass on your face." he warned and walked off with a bouncy Benedict. I jerked up, running my hands over my cheeks quickly, already watching the two of them walk away and John begin his cooper with the German shepherd. And again the commercial scene was there.

I returned home to find my mother studying some cake recipes, which was her favorite thing to make.

"I'm glad you're home," I celebrated as I saw her sitting there reading.

"I managed to finish everything early." she smiled satisfied. "What happened to you? You're all dirty with grass and dirt." she said, analyzing me.

"Bento was too happy and made me hit the ground twice," I laughed, going towards the bathroom, after all, I urgently needed a shower.

Just as Sunday came quickly, it passed just as quickly. Monday started lazy as usual, and caffeine was what kept me awake that morning. We were in our last class and waiting for the teacher to arrive, during which time I was talking to Sophie, my best friend and classmate. We met on the first day of college and haven't been apart since. She was an amazing person. Although she was of the same financial status as John and most of the people I knew, Sophie never turned up her nose or treated me with indifference because she knew that my social class was far below hers. It seems absurd to be happy about something that should be normal - knowing how to deal with differences, especially social differences - however, believe me... It isn't.

"How was the Carter party? Yesterday Cassie posted this picture with John" Sophie questioned, lifting her cell phone so I could see the picture of the two of them hugging. I came to the conclusion that he should smile more, since he looked even more handsome when he smiled. I wrinkled my nose and shrugged.

"It was just like all the other parties, including the part where Bryan shows up and tries to piss me off somehow," I spoke and watched my friend's face change from calm, to angry. She hated Bryan and I didn't blame her.

"What did that scumbag do this time?"

"He showed up asking if I was enjoying the party, all cynical. I gave him an ignorant answer and he started with his little talk about how his presence affects me." I made a disgusted face and Sophie followed me.

"And what did you say?"

"I held my pose and basically replied that it didn't affect me and that I didn't waste my time with what added nothing to me."

"Girlfriend, what a great catchphrase. I love it!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. I laughed and continued.

"I want distance from Bryan" I spoke, sounding firm. "The part of me that was affected by him is gone, all I feel is contempt," I finished, feeling the familiar hurt resonate through my voice. Sophie smiled in understanding and placed her hand over mine, stroking it.

"You're absolutely right, Lena. I'm proud of you!" she said smiling and I smiled back in appreciation.

The teacher entered the room and everyone was silent. - Finally - starting the long awaited last class.

John's POV

"That report is incomplete, Thompson!" I caught the attention of one of the lawyers in the office for the thousandth time.

My father would leave the documents of various cases under my responsibility whenever he traveled, which I knew generated numerous comments about me having preference or abusing power since I was the owner's son. I did not mind this, after all, I was really very good at what I did, and knowing my father - who revered his work as a good workaholic* - he would not leave me in charge of anything if he knew I was not competent to do so. I was also aware that all - if not most - people denigrated me behind my back because I berated them. Well, if you realize that something is wrong, or extremely far from your best, you take action, don't you? The most interesting of all is that these same people who criticize me in my absence, pull my leg when I am present. Incoherent? I know. I looked at my wristwatch and saw that lunch time was approaching, mentally thanking myself for this, because I felt a slight twinge in my head, indicating that it would start to hurt at any moment. I grabbed my cell phone and typed a message to Cassie, my girlfriend, telling her that I would pick her up in 30 minutes to have lunch together, as agreed earlier today. A few seconds later, I received her reply.

Sorry, love. The newsroom is crazy and I'm going to have lunch here anyway. Rescheduled for tomorrow?

I sighed, realizing that I would have to eat alone.

All right, princess. Good job ;)

I got up, put my cell phone in my suit pocket, grabbed my wallet and my car keys, and headed out to lunch.

Cassie was the daughter of one of my father's friends and we had met at one of the events that always take place in the business world. For me, they were just for show and to maintain future lucrative contacts, however, as it worked out, I just stayed neutral. My family adored her, always commenting how lucky I was to have someone of such good character and from such an influential background by my side. The truth was that I didn't give a damn about her family's reputation - coincidentally also lawyers - since I was with Cassie because I liked her, and that was it. I knew that our courtship was pertinent to my parents, as they threw in a lot of hints about how great it would be if we got married, providing an opportunity for the firm to expand with my girlfriend's family and start a powerful partnership. Hearing all of this made me extremely uncomfortable, and made it seem as if my relationship was nothing more than business to them.

I decided to have lunch in a nice restaurant located close to my old college, already missing the wonderful meal they served. I drove my car in front of the campus, being hit hard by the nostalgia that came from that place. I ran my eyes down the street distractedly, until I spotted a familiar figure. It was Helena, daughter of Mary, the woman who worked as a cook at the house. She was chatting leisurely with a girl who was walking beside her, laughing every now and then, carrying several books in her arms and a huge bag on her shoulders. I immediately grimaced as I imagined how heavy it must be.

I had no opinion about her, nor did I know anything about her life, but she seemed like a good girl. From what I had seen, she was very reserved, somewhat clumsy, loved my dog, and I had just discovered that her laughter made me want to laugh along with her. She was normal, ordinary. There was definitely something instigating about her, her ensemble certainly made her interesting. I frowned at this later realization, realizing that they had studied her for too long, hearing in the distance the strangely funny sound of her laughter, making me laugh too. I shook my head and sped towards the restaurant, already thinking about the process of an important case I was following.

Helena's POV

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

I was running around my room, grabbing the first clothes I saw in front of me and putting them on awkwardly, trying to brush my teeth as I gathered my college material. I had spent the previous night working late on my TCC project and ended up going to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, causing me to be late for today. I woke up with my mother calling me to ask if I was feeling well and if I would go to class, since the time would pass and I still hadn't gotten up.

As Sophie had a car, she would pick me up in front of the condominium - which was not far from her house - and we would go to college together, however, not even her calls managed to wake me up.

I woke up in a jerk feeling totally senseless and remained this way, now looking at my reflection in the mirror and wanting to cry when I saw the hair disaster I was in. I took advantage of the cold weather and grabbed a cap in order to disguise - at least a little - the horrible situation on my head and tried to ignore my face that was as bad as my hair, throwing my bag over my shoulders and grabbing my books anyway. I cursed at the pouring rain, shivering as I felt a strong gust of the icy wind hit me. I ran out the door as if my life depended on it, while I tried to balance the umbrella in my hands also occupied by the books and struggled not to let my bag fall from my shoulders. That scene must have been ridiculous for many reasons.

1 - I looked like a running duck.

2 - I was running while my books unbalanced from my hands.

3 - My umbrella was getting me wetter than it was protecting me.

4 - My appearance resembled the appearance of someone who had just come out of a dog's mouth.

I know this is not possible, but try to imagine something similar. It is pretty bad, isn't it? Yes, it is.

These were only some of the reasons, the others I lost in the middle of the road when I realized that a car was following my ridiculous race. I hoped that whoever was driving didn't decide to drive through a puddle of water, making me even wetter and making what was already bad even worse. I had the feeling that that car was not unfamiliar to me, confirming my realization when I saw the driver of the car.

John Carter.

I found this strange and decided to continue on my way as I half-walked half-corrected, not knowing what he wanted. To laugh at my situation? Fine, go ahead. He lowered the windows as I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

"Hey! Helena!" he shouted and I stopped. I stared at him, trying to see him in the thick rain. "Get in!" I saw him unlock the car door and frowned in total confusion. Since when did he offer me a ride?

"What?" I answered in a mixture of incredulity and doubt, raising my voice so that John could hear me over the noise of the rain. John was staring at me with his typical serious expression.

"Come in!" he repeated. I remained with the same confused face, already thinking that this day was totally inside out.

"Uh... No, it's okay. Thank you." I replied smiling without showing my teeth and walked back, cringing due to the cold.

"You don't look like you are!" he retorted with a cynical tone. I took a deep breath and put the most convincing smile I had on my face, ready to tell him that I could turn around, however, a loud thunder echoed and made me jump, closing my eyes in distress.

When I opened them, I saw that John was watching me with a debauched expression. It was strange to see him with anything other than a serious face, and in that instant I decided that I didn't like the explicit debauchery on his face. Another thunderclap echoed, and I found myself in a quandary. Either I would keep my stubbornness in tact and lose the test, or I would give in and endure a few embarrassing minutes of being in the same car as John.

I couldn't miss the test and I was late enough already.

I sighed defeated and closed the umbrella, running and getting into the vehicle quickly.

John started the car and a totally weird atmosphere took over the place, just as I had predicted. After wrapping the umbrella in its hood, I put it inside my purse, fearing that I would get the seat upholstery wet and ruin something very expensive. The car was warm and I finally felt my fingers again, I almost smiled with relief, if it wasn't for.... Well, if it weren't for this unusual situation and the pleasant aroma of John's perfume, which invaded my nostrils. My boot was soaked and I shrugged my shoulders, bashful.

"I'm wetting the carpet," I murmured regretfully.

"No problem." he replied without moving his eyes from the street. "You're going to college, aren't you?"

"Yes." my speech let all my introversion show even if I tried not to sound so uncomfortable. John didn't seem to care, just nodded and continued driving quietly. I looked away from the blurry landscape and the rain, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He was wearing a white dress shirt, his suit was black - perfectly aligned with his body - his wine tie contrasted with the dark colors, and, on top of that, a black jacket finished his look splendidly. I stopped examining him like an idiot and turned my attention back to the street bathed in thick raindrops. I was immersed in thought until his cell phone rang, snapping me out of my daze. John put a handset to his ear to answer it, then accepted the call.

"Good morning, love," he greeted the person on the other end of the line. Obviously this person was Cassie. I immediately felt uncomfortable, after all, I was witnessing a personal dialogue. "Again? I know... I get it. Do what, right? No, honey. We'll talk later, ok? I'm driving. Kisses." Carter ended the call and gave a resigned sigh.

He sounded annoyed. I looked at my fingernails as if they were very important and worthy of my attention, mentally thanking him the moment I recognized the college campus.

John parked and unlocked the car door, fiddling with his cell phone as he waited for me to get out. I unbuckled my belt, hastily packing my bag and the books in my arms.

"Thank you." I turned to him and smiled amiably. He looked away from his cell phone and looked at me.

"You're welcome."

I smiled again and got out of the car closing the door behind me, watching him start up and disappear from my field of vision seconds later. I ran towards my office, but not before noticing a group of people staring at me and whispering. I ignored them and kept running, hoping that the teacher would let me take the test even though I was extremely late.

John's POV

I was preparing my client's defense thesis, carefully studying all the arguments that could be used in order to obtain his acquittal. This would be my first case with media coverage, and this was making me a little nervous, after all, the prosecution has a very big advantage, since it is easier to accuse than to defend. Lee Feldmann was a businessman and had been accused of murdering the banker Mason Zummack, but it was quite clear that behind this there was someone who wanted to frame him by false accusation, and I would not allow a wrongful conviction to land an innocent man in jail. I had obtained a revocation of his pre-trial detention, but he would be under house arrest until the day of the trial. I dropped the papers under the table for a few seconds and propped my elbows on it. I massaged my temples and let out a tired sigh, going over everything I had been told about the day of Mason's murder.

The crime had taken place in a place far from the city, where a party was being held that brought together several extremely successful businessmen. Everyone was questioned and nothing that I could use to my advantage was said, which only made me more and more nervous, because they found the murder weapon on the upholstery of my client's car. The cameras, which would have been extremely helpful, stopped working at the beginning of the event, only making what was already bad worse. The culprit was present that night and was one of the invited businessmen, and I was sure to catch him. I had been focused on this case from the moment I stepped into the office earlier today, right after dropping Helena off at college. The scene I witnessed this morning as I left the condominium was not any funnier, because the girl's situation was really pitiful. She was running in total disarray as the heavy rain fell and made her umbrella useless, her books slipped from her hand, and I could bet that her purse would fall to the ground at any moment. I assumed that Helena had missed the hour, which only confirmed my suspicion when I saw her sleepy face as she stared at me with a look of confusion on her face. Moved by what I saw, I offered her a ride, which, to my surprise, she was reluctant to accept. Her embarrassment was evident in the way she stared at the window and only broke her gaze to pick at her fingernails, clearly embarrassed to be there with me. I didn't condemn her, her attitude was entirely fitting considering that our socialization was somewhat limited. Cassie again unmasks her lunch with me, as today was the birthday of a friend of hers, who had planned a meeting at the same time. Although I felt frustrated, I said that everything was fine, and, when asked by my girlfriend about my being upset, I denied it. Including because it wouldn't do any good anyway. In the end, I ate lunch alone again and stayed in my living room all afternoon.

Knocks on the door brought me out of my little reverie. I muttered a "come in" and Thompson's figure made itself present.

"Excuse me, Carter. I came to see if you wanted any assistance with the Lee Feldmann case. It must be hard to formulate something since it's his first major defense," he offered and although I was grateful for his willingness to help, I felt offended by the "must be hard". It wasn't easy, however, nothing I wasn't able to handle.

"Thank you, Thompson. That won't be necessary, I have everything under control around here." I smiled in thanks and politely declined.

"I remain at your disposal for any eventuality." I nodded and he withdrew without delay. I stared at the papers and read them again, ignoring the headache that insisted on bothering me.

22hrs15 min.

I left the office later than I had planned. Driving home mentally begging for a hot shower followed by my bed, having my shoulders stiff and a nagging feeling of heaviness taking over. Although I was exhausted by fatigue, a large part of me was vibrating for having managed to punctuate several important details in the thesis of the Feldmann case. I decided to schedule a meeting with my client in order to clarify what had not been clear in the previous conversations and to help him on how he should behave from then on until the day of his trial hearing. As soon as I arrived I found it strange that Bento did not come to meet me as he usually did when I parked the car, and looking around the house I saw him lying next to Helena, who was sitting on a wooden bench located on the small veranda of the modest house where she lived with her mother. A blanket was wrapped around her body and also covering my dog. She was reading something, running her highlighter over a few words. I remembered the day my mother broke the news that the two of them would be moving in, occupying what was once just a place I used for social gatherings with my friends in my early teens.

FLASHBACK

Friday night usually meant one thing: The usual get-togethers that always took place in the house behind mine. Bryan, me and a few other friends from high school got together to do what every teenager did: shit no good. We would decide who would come to my house in order to sneak beer from my dad's bar, and at that moment it was my turn. I was sneaking around the living room, until my mother just appeared out of nowhere, almost killing me from the heart.

"Where are you going, John?" he questioned with his suspicious look. I froze right there and took a deep breath, trying to find a suitable excuse.

"Me? Oh... I was looking for Mary. I wanted to know if the sandwiches were ready," I answered as naturally as possible, grateful for the sudden excuse I had just made up. My mother continued to stare at me puzzled, but seemed convinced. I held back from letting out a relieved sigh.

The sandwiches are in the kitchen," she said. - And Mary's already gone. I'd like to talk to you about that, by the way. I need you to move your stuff out of the house by the pool."

I looked at her outraged, not believing what she had just said.

"Why? What do you mean?" I questioned sullenly.

"Mary is having some problems, so I offered the pool house for her and her daughter to live in." she explained and that didn't lessen my outrage.

"And what does that have to do with me? Where am I going to have the meetings with my friends?"

"Don't talk like that, John." he scolded me with a harsh tone of voice and I shrugged my shoulders a little. When my mother got angry it was scary to anyone and I imagined it helped her a lot in her job. "You and your friends can do it somewhere else, I can't be without a cook. She had several problems to solve and was missing too much, this was the only way out, so I don't want to hear any more reluctance on your part."

I sighed defeated, having no way to argue.

"I have until when to empty the house?"

"Until Sunday." I nodded dejectedly and went to break the news to the boys.

That weekend, Sunday to be exact, I met Helena. The younger girl with the embarrassed look on her face stared at me curiously and lowered her gaze every now and then, while I returned her gaze, but with a grump.

END OF FLASHBACK

I shook my head in denial, almost laughing at my selfishness back then and thanking him for my change in values. I moved a little closer until I was visible to my dog, who, as soon as he caught sight of me, raised his head with arched ears and began to wag his tail energetically, but did not get off the bench. I put my hands in my pants pockets and raised an eyebrow, not understanding.

I owned a traitor.

"Hey, what's wrong? Why did you get agitated..." Helena started to speak, but let the sentence die as she turned her attention away from the leaves and followed Benedict's gaze, bumping into me standing there.

"After me, you're the only one he obeys and is affectionate like that," I commented. She looked at the dog who was still wagging his tail happily, however, now lying down and relaxed with his head under his front paws.

"He's great company." she stroked behind his ears and smiled. I nodded in agreement.

"Bento, come!" I tapped my hand on my leg a few times to get his attention and get him to come to me. He looked at Helena and jumped up from the bench, walking toward me. Sometimes I thought this dog would start talking. "Good evening." I said, already turning away with Benedict following me.

"Good night," he replied in a soft voice.

I walked into the house and came across my mother in the living room, reading a book sitting in the armchair she usually stayed in.

"Hi, Mom." I deposited a kiss on her cheek and sat down on the couch in front of her.

"Hi, son. Did you just get here?" he asked, watching me over the book.

"Just now," I replied, throwing my head on the back of the couch and loosening the tie that seemed to want to suffocate me, "and you? Have you been home from the office long?"

"Yes, I got in a few hours ago."

"You're not trying too hard, right? The doctor gave clear orders for you to be as tired as possible," I warned her, referring to her recurrent fainting spells.

"I'm fine, son. It would get worse being at home doing nothing. Now answer me this. What were you talking to Mary's daughter about?" I raised my head and looked at her uncomprehendingly. How had she seen it? I didn't care that she saw, I had nothing to hide, but getting my attention for something so trivial seemed very incoherent.

"I went to get Bento who was with her," I continued to stare at her, curious and a little uncertain about her sudden question.

"Hm. Since when do you guys talk?"

"Can't I at least have a normal acquaintance with someone who has lived here for years?" she put her book down, leaving it resting in her lap, and stared at me with narrowed eyes.

"I don't understand you, John. Why should I have any dealings with the cook's daughter?"

I straightened up on the couch, running my hands over my face in a sign of weariness.

"You gave me an education, Mistress Kyara. And her name is Helena," I warned seeing her expression twitch, appalled. "It's not like we're friends, I just don't see any reason not to be at least civil."

"You already know what I think, I won't wear myself out about it. Your father is coming back tomorrow, by the way."

"Fine." I got up and walked over to her, leaving a kiss on the top of her head, without an ounce of patience for her vanity. "I'm going to my room, I'm tired. Good night."

"Good night, son."

I walked into my room already removing my clothes, spotting Benedict lying at the foot of my bed.

"Now you want to be close to me, don't you, rascal?" I joked, passing by