Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 97951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’m trapped in a bad dream… a really bad nightmare.”
“Well, imagine that nightmare being my true reality. Because it is. You know me, Silva. I’ve done some really messed up shit, I’ll admit to that, and I was wrong for how I treated you after Mama died, but we all grieve differently, and sometimes grief ain’t fair. It ain’t pretty. I’m tryna make an amends with you because I love and value you as a person who means the world to me. What Grandpa told you about me was partially true. He failed to give you the reasons why, and that should be something that just doesn’t sit well with you. He took what he told you out of context. On purpose. I would never lie to you about this, girl.” She blew her nose, and he could tell her tears and pain were becoming more intense. “You and I have been through a lot together, baby sister.
“Losing our mother was catastrophic,” he sat down at the messy desk as he felt a bit lightheaded, “but we held onto one another. I miss… I miss my friend.” She started sobbing loud and clear. “Look, I, uh… I took enough of your time and I’m at work, so I gotta go.” He blinked back his emotions. “I’ll be showing you the letter Grandpa sent me, where he details the ultimatum of a lifetime.
“You can say it’s fake or I made it up, Silva, but just ask some of our cousins that Grandpa had his eye on if they got somethin’ similar. They did. Call Kage, okay? He knows the specific details of my situation. He’d have no reason to lie on my behalf. It doesn’t help him to lie about this for me, in any shape, form, or fashion.” She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing. “I’ll… I’ll call you back later sometime. Despite everything, I love you, Silva. More than you’ll ever know.”
With that, he quickly disconnected the call. More loud music thumped all around him. His mind spun with the unpleasant memories and dug up the dusty recollections of bad dreams that used to haunt him as a child. He sat there and took several deep breaths, then went to his photos on his phone and grabbed the scanned letter he’d saved, the one Grandpa had drafted, then texted it to her. There was no guarantee Silva would be convinced that his character had been framed, his reputation assassinated, and she’d been used due to her naivety, as well as their closeness, but he had to tell the truth. The truth was always better than a lie, and he had faith that it would prevail.
Getting on his feet, he texted Nadia back:
I love you. I’ll see you soon.
He slid his phone back in his pocket and opened the office door, leaving the stuffy room and entering into the cool corridor. It was a long walk down that darkened hallway, him just alone with his thoughts before his entire body was glowing with flickering lights, his ears drowning in loud chatter and boisterous laughter from the patrons. He reached the main dance area and stood back by the bar, merging back with society. Crossing his arms, he scanned all the people dancing and having a good ass time. It was interesting how people benefited from others’ hard work, folks behind the scenes, but these people having a good time rarely seemed to take into account what was done to ensure it.
There were construction workers who were often underpaid, at times risking their lives to build the structure these people danced and chased ass in. They didn’t consider or ask themselves: who was keeping the lights on? Paying the celebrity DJ who’d spent a long time perfecting his craft. Who was making the wine for them to devour? Months, sometimes years, would be spent aging it to perfection all for them to slurp it down with little to no deliberation. It was hard work for the guys behind the scenes…
Like the men and women in small offices who had desks covered in overdue bills and unpaid bar tabs because they refused to cut any staff. The top dog was often once the underdog… Someone had to take the heat and hide the secrets. Someone had to do the contract kills to keep the lights on in the big house, the little sister in oblivious bliss, and the inner rage at bay… Someone had to do the heavy lifting and the dirty work. Someone had to get down low and claw at the ground. Someone had to be the Top Dog and dig into the cool soil, burrowing deep, digging a huge hole, a perfect hiding place for the dead bodies of life’s mishaps.