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   Joshua Prentiss had not expected much of a reception from his daughter Rosily- or rather, Cinnamon as she was calling herself now. It had been years since they’d seen each other, when she had left everything and just disappeared- no clothes, no money (at least that he was aware of), just a note and no trace of where she had gone. The lack of clues had always made Joshua believe that Rosily had had help, making him suspicious of several of his own men but now, after twenty years, it didn’t really matter anymore. He could feel her glaring eyes on him and Joshua looked up calmly, meeting her gaze.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” She spat out.

  “Neither can I,” he responded slowly. “I never thought I would see you again.”

   Her scowl deepened; she crossed her arms, lying back in the sofa with one leg crossed. It was the same gesture she would do whenever she was angry about something, a familiar sight for Joshua. It contrasted oddly with her appearance. The teenage girl he had last seen had grown up to be an attractive woman, her dark-brown hair dyed into a dark-blonde color and grown into quite a length. Rosily had never allowed it to grow past her shoulders when she had lived under his roof, suspecting (quite rightly) that it was because he had once made a remark about liking her with long hair.

  “What are you looking at?” His daughter demanded rather curtly.

  “Long hair suits you,” Joshua responded, to her irritation. Her nostrils flared, straightening her shoulders unconsciously as she sat a little straighter.

  “I don’t care what you think.” She said. “What are you doing here? How’d you find me?”

  “Libra’s funeral.” Joshua said simply.

  “Of course,” she said caustically. Silence fell again, tense on Rosily’s side, composed on Joshua’s. “You haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

   Joshua paused a moment before answering. “I wanted to see you.”

   Rosily’s eyes flashed, uncrossing her leg as she leaned forward. “You’re still the same as ever,” she said casutically. “You never give more than you need to. So you want to see me. Is that all? After all you’ve done, all you’ve put me through, me and Libra? After all these years, and you can’t apologize?”

  “Would that make you feel better?” Joshua asked. He didn’t say it out of spite or anger; he really was curious to know the answer and if it was yes, he would be more than happy to apologize and gain his daughter’s forgiveness. Rosily, however, didn’t see it that way. Her lips pursed, gripping the arm rests tight enough to cause a tear in the fabric.

  “I want you out,” she managed to say in a voice barely suppressed with anger. “I left because I never wanted to see you and I still don’t want to see you now. I don’t want you a part of my life, or my children’s lives. They don’t even know you exist and I want it to stay that way!” She was looking at him with eyes full of hatred and Joshua knew she meant every word. His heart seemed to ache with a heaviness he had not felt in a long time. He gave a curt nod of his head and sarted to get up when there was a sudden slam of the front door and a voice called out, “Anyone home?”

~~~  

   As Soraya approached her house, she noticed the discretely expensive black car parked in front of her sidewalk and wondered what that was about. Surely it couldn't be for her family, could it? She racked her brain, trying to remember if there was anyone they knew who was this rich and failing. Soraya went up the steps, opened the front door and called out, “Anyone home?” Silence was her only response, until she heard the sound of feet and her mother came out from the door of the living room looking harried. Soraya instinctively knew there was something wrong with her. “Are you okay?” she asked. Her mother answered with her own question.

  “What are you doing here?” Cinnamon Tahan demanded.

  “Uh, I live here.” Soraya responded sarcastically.

  “You’re supposed to be in school.” Her mother pointed out, glancing pointedly at the clock on the wall.

  “My last two classes got canceled.” Soraya slid her backpack off, let it fall to the floor with a thump. “Is someone here?”

  “What makes you say that?” her mother said sharply, and Soraya knew there was. She also knew it was someone her mother really didn’t want her to see, piquing her curiosity. Was her mother having an affair, she wondered. Her mother attempted to stop her from going past her. She didn’t succeed. As Soraya took a step into the living room any idea she had entertained of her mother having an affair disappeared as she spotted her visitor, an old man. She didn’t recognize him.

  “Hello,” she greeted him curiously. “Who are you?”

  “Soraya.” Her mother said sharply, grabbing her shoulder with a tight grip, causing her to grimace and step away.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she said irritably, glaring at her. Her mother didn’t say anything, keeping her tight-lipped silence, though her eyes demanded she leave at once. Soraya made a face at her, and turned back to the old man. He had gotten up from his seat.

  “I’m sorry to have taken up your time,” he said to Soraya’s mother. “I won’t bother you anymore. Have a good day.”

  “Good bye.” Cinnamon said in a voice that made Soraya look at her with a frown. The old man passed by them and she watched him go with a gnawing curiosity that wouldn’t be whetted without an answer.

  “Who is he?” she asked her mother. Cinnamon ignored her.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she said curtly. “When I come out, I don’t want to hear anything about this. I mean it, Soraya.”

  “I didn’t think you didn’t.” Soraya retorted petulantly. Her mother frowned at her. Soraya waited until she’d left, then she headed for the front door. She hoped the old man hadn’t left yet. Careful to close the door behind her softly, Soraya ran down the steps of the porch and straight for the black car. To her relief, the old man hadn’t gotten in yet. “Hey, you. Wait.” She called out to him. He turned, looked at her in surprise. “I’m glad I caught you.”

  “Can I help you?” he asked, eyes going from her to the house.

  “My mom doesn’t know I’m out here, talking to you,” she said, correctly guessing his mind. “And I don’t think she’d be too thrilled if she knew so I wanna make this quick.” The man kept quiet, staring at her. “Why was my mom so angry with you?”

  “Ask your mother.” The man replied. Soraya frowned at him.

  “As if she’d actually tell me.”

  “I’m afraid that is not my concern.” He turned to go but Soraya grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. His eyes were a dark brilliant blue which she noted with interest.

  “If I wanted to meet with you someplace away from here, would you agree to it?” she asked boldly. Surprise flickered across the old man’s face, a fleeting expression that disappeared as soon as it’d appeared. He turned around fully to look at her, causing her to drop her grasp on him.

  “Why?” He asked.

  “If you agree to meet with me, I’ll tell you why.”

   He was studying her carefully, than he nodded once. “Very well,” he said. “Do you know the Sapienti Hotel on Enton Street?”

  “Yes,” she said, making a mental note to look it up.

  “Meet me in the lobby tomorrow at one o’clock.” He told her.

  “No problem,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow than. You’d better not renege on me,” she warned.

   He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ll try not to,” he told her with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Goodbye.”

  “See you tomorrow,” Soraya called out cheerfully. She watched the car drive away and wondered how good an idea this actually was, but she was determined and doubts weren’t going to drive her away.