Chapter 3. TURNING POINT
(Sienna)
“You’re late.” My father, who had been waiting for me since 9 a.m., had his jaw clenched and nostrils flared. His gaze was so intense it could melt ice, and the way he clutched the arms of his chair suggested he was on the verge of losing his patience.
Last night, I went out again with Jake and Caroline and arrived home around 5 a.m. I had barely slept for a few hours when I woke to the sun blazing through my window. I had completely forgotten to close the curtains and set the alarm.
Jake stayed over, just like he’d been doing every night since we met last week, but when I opened my eyes this morning, my bed was empty.
Did he leave just after I fell asleep?
I liked Jake, but we both knew we were just friends with benefits. It worked for me and, apparently, for him too—a perfect match. I’d be leaving for Stanford soon, so getting attached to him wasn’t an option. Truth be told, I was having a good time, so I’d decided to keep hanging out with him until I left, as long as he was okay with that. The last thing I wanted was for him to start catching feelings, so I needed to limit our interactions and follow my go-to rules. No dates. No flowers. Nothing. Parties, enjoying the outdoor pool, and good sex. That was all I wanted for my summer. I wasn’t asking for too much. Was I?
“I’m sorry. I went out last night and didn’t hear the alarm on my phone. Sorry,” I lied.
“Your mom told me you’ve been going out every night since you returned. Is that all you’re going to do this summer?” I could hear the reproach in his voice.
“Well, that and the internship,” I replied.
“I trust you’re taking this internship with the seriousness it deserves. Many people would kill for this opportunity. I won’t tolerate you showing up late at the lab or smelling like a cellar. Do you understand me?” His voice was calm, but it carried a heavy warning I couldn’t ignore.
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation, Father .” I emphasized the word “father” more than necessary, but at this point, I didn’t care for his approval. He lost his right to care the moment he forbade me from hanging out with my best friend and shipped me off to Europe without a single warning.
He sighed.
“Sit down,” he said, pointing at the chair he’d placed next to his. “Let me walk you through the program I designed for you.”
Over the next two hours, he explained the four-week plan he’d prepared for my time in the lab. He’d organized a rotation of tasks across various departments at Cos Pharmaceuticals, intending to provide me with some level of experience before starting college. I wondered if he’d noticed how little I was interested in working for him. Since I arrived, he never bothered to ask me about my final exams or my trip with Sarah. When I mentioned going to Ibiza with her for three weeks, he stayed quiet and said nothing about it. I knew he liked Sarah and thought she was a good influence even though she was the troublemaker between us.
“I want you to go through everything, and I want you on Tuesday at nine o’clock, not nine thirty or ten, in my office to go through any questions you might have. Your mom and I are leaving for Cabo next Friday morning, so you’ll be on your own until we return. Peter will be available via email if you have further questions while we’re away.”
“Sure thing. Would you prefer that I email my questions before our meeting? I’ve heard it’s a standard business practice.”
“Don’t be a smart-mouth, Sienna. My patience is limited.” I was well aware that I pushed boundaries by speaking to my father in such a way, but I couldn’t help it. Sarah often claimed that I enjoyed challenging him to gain his attention. Even if that were the case, it had never worked.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday then.”
I walked toward the door and pushed it open.
“And Sienna.” I turned around. “It’s the last time I see someone sneaking out of your room in the middle of the night. This isn’t that kind of house. Understood?”
I slammed the door on my way out.
* * *
It was Friday morning.
My parents would be leaving in half an hour, and I had grand plans for the weekend. With them gone, I would have the house to myself. I’d already arranged for Caroline to invite a group of friends over on Saturday, including Jake, obviously. I was determined to host an unforgettable party that would be the talk of Port Chester. All I had left to do was purchase the alcohol, pick up some snacks, and curate the perfect Spotify playlist.
Footsteps approached the living room, where I sat enjoying breakfast. Mrs. Bishop had thoughtfully made a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and two slices of sourdough toast topped with avocado. She knew of my love for coffee and had gone the extra mile to procure some capsules for my favorite drink, pumpkin spice latte. Her thoughtfulness had always been remarkable. In this household, she appeared to be the only individual who genuinely cared about my preferences and had the keen attention to detail required to recognize when I craved Starbucks. It wasn’t like that before. I had a fantastic childhood, but everything changed six years ago.
“We’re leaving, darling. Our flight to Cabo is in about an hour. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” My mom had pushed me daily to change my mind about going on vacation with them to no avail.
“No. I’m good. Caroline might come over tomorrow with some friends.” Mrs. Bishop would probably tell my parents anyway, so it was better to give them a heads-up.
“Is the boy I saw this morning leaving the house through the back door coming too? I thought I was clear last week about having boys over?”
My cheeks turned pink, and I opened and closed my mouth, unable to respond to him. I told Jake to be careful, but apparently, my father didn’t sleep or instructed the staff to keep an eye on me constantly. As expected, my father carried on lecturing me.
“You’ve shown a lack of respect toward your mother and me since you arrived. You choose to have your meals alone and avoid spending time with us. You stay in your room throughout the day until the evening, then disappear to who knows where. On top of that, your lack of decorum concerns me, as you keep bringing that tattooed boy into our home. The neighbors are already whispering things. Do you want to become the talk of the town? Things can’t continue down this path. You have responsibilities to fulfill.”
I sat there, paralyzed. The words had cut through the air like a sharp blade and hung heavy between us. It contrasted with the man I had known growing up, a father who had always been gentle and kind. My mind raced back to my childhood when my father and I were inseparable. We would go on long hikes, and he would even tell me bedtime stories he had made up on the spot. Those were the days when I felt truly loved and cherished by him. Not anymore. Everything changed when they sent me to Europe. It was a decision that took me by surprise, and I never understood why he did it, and he never offered a decent explanation. He became distant and emotionally detached, and it felt like he was pushing me away. The pain of abandonment had been overwhelming, and I often cried myself to sleep, wondering what I had done to deserve such treatment. Then Sarah and I became best friends. She was my rock.
As my father’s words hung in the air, I felt my anger building. I met his gaze and furiously replied, “I don’t give a flying fuck what the neighbors think. That tattooed boy has a name, Jake, and don’t you dare judge him just because of his tattoos.”
“Watch your mouth, Sienna,” he reprimanded. “We’re going to sit down and talk when we return from our vacation. We’ve already spent way too much time on this nonsense, and now we’re running late.
“Meanwhile, I’m going to freeze all your cards. It would be best if you understood that as long as you live under my roof, you will do what I say. Clear?”
I stood, causing the chair to screech loudly against the wooden floor. I moved so quickly that the chair toppled backward, colliding with the windowsill.
“You can’t just freeze my cards!”
“Oh, trust me, I’m more than capable, and I’m going to,” he snapped, shifting his posture toward my mother and gripping her by the elbow. As usual, my mom remained silent. No matter the situation, it always frustrated me how she consistently sided with him. I could never be sure if it was because she genuinely shared his views or if she simply avoided disagreeing with or opposing him. She never dared to contradict him, and this occasion was no exception.
“I hate you. I’m counting down the days until I can leave for California and put miles between us, away from this place and away from you. I’m fed up with all of this. You haven’t cared about me or how I felt for the past six years. You shipped me across the Atlantic without giving me an explanation, for fuck’s sake. And now, out of the blue, you want to be the doting parent, setting boundaries and expressing concern about my reputation?” I began to laugh, not because it was funny, but because the situation was ridiculous, and I was pissed. He never cared about me. Why now? Was it to prove a point? That he had control over me?
“I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons to be mad at me, but I can’t just stand by and watch you sabotage yourself.” He sighed. “You think I don’t love you, but I have my reasons for sending you to Switzerland. I just hoped you’d eventually forgive me for sending you to Europe after all this time. Holding that resentment will only poison your soul, Sienna. I hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.” Evidently, my words had deeply affected him, and a small part of me wished to take them back. But I was stubborn. I would never be the first to yield in an argument. “We must go. We’ll talk when we get back.”
As the front door shut behind them, I remained in the living room, still shaken by my father’s words.
I wish I’d said something, anything at all.
I should’ve told them I loved them even though I was still upset about them sending me away. They were my parents. Deep down, I knew everything they did was because they cared about me. I just wished they’d shown their affection by spending time with me, not by flashing their cash.
Life doesn’t come with a warning. You never know when it’s going to be the last time you’ll see someone you love.
And that was precisely what happened.
That was the last day I saw my parents alive.