Chapter 3

The next morning, I was woken up by my phone blaring in my ear.

I didn't recognize the number, but I could already guess who was calling.

I hung up and sent it straight to block.

The world was quiet again.

I took my sweet time getting up, freshened up, and headed downstairs for a steaming bowl of soup.

The sunlight warmed my skin.

It had been years since I last enjoyed a leisurely breakfast like this.

I honestly couldn't remember the last time I did it.

After breakfast, I wandered over to the park for a bit of a stroll.

Watching the elderly people working out, chatting with their pet birds, and the ladies dancing, I realized that it was not a bad idea to leave that family.

My phone rang again. This time, it was Mallory.

I let it ring until it finally gave up and hung up on its own.

Not long after, a text popped up. [Lindsay, where are you? Come home. Orson can't deal with this.]

As I stared at those words, a smirk slowly spread across my face.

This was only the first day, and they were already failing to keep up.

I didn't bother replying. I just switched my phone to silent and tossed it into my bag.

I figured Orson was probably just waking up from a hangover at that moment.

Then, he'd get a whiff of something he'd never forget for the rest of his life.

I'd been breathing in that stench for twenty years.

It was the reek of piss and shit, the sickly-sweet rot of skin, and the chemical tang of meds, all mashed together into a stench that just oozed despair.

He pushed open Lorelei's door and saw the bed was covered in nasty yellow stains.

He would spot red marks pressed into her skin from being stuck in bed for ages.

With him being such a clean freak and spoiled all his life, he'd probably lose his lunch right then and there.

I didn't think he would clean up that mess by himself.

He'd be calling Mallory for help right away.

Mallory would only ever try to mediate things by keeping everything under the rug. At that moment, he was working at his office, which was miles away.

There was no way he could help out at that moment.

So, in the end, they could only turn to me, the free maid they summoned and dismissed at will, always disposable in their eyes.

Unfortunately, I quit.

Later that afternoon, I took my sweet time strolling back to the hotel.

As soon as I got downstairs, I spotted a familiar figure.

It was Orson.

He was restlessly pacing in front of the hotel, grumbling and swearing under his breath, constantly glancing at his watch.

That brand-name tracksuit that looked so fresh yesterday was now all wrinkled up, covered in some sketchy stains.

His hair was a total mess, sticking out everywhere like he'd just been dragged through a fight.

He was oozing frustration and misery from every pore.

I kept to the shadows at the corner, watching him coldly.

He couldn't get through to me and had no clue where my folks lived, so he could only try the most desperate move he could think of.

He had t ogo from hotel to hotel around the neighborhood, hoping to bump into me.

He seemed to be really out of options.

After a bit more waiting, Mallory's car pulled up.

He jumped out in a hurry, looking totally wiped out and pissed off.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I told you to watch Mom. Why did you run off?" Mallory snapped at the moment he saw him.

Orson snapped, "Mallory, seriously? Why are you blaming me for this? What kind of nightmare job is that? I opened the door and nearly passed out!

"Mom shit all over the place. How the hell am I supposed to clean that up?"

Orson was freaking out, practically screeching.

"You can't just leave her home alone. What if something goes wrong?" Mallory shot back.

Orson yelled, "What could possibly happen? She's totally bedridden. I'm telling you, Mallory, I'm not doing this. Go get Lindsay back. This is her problem, not mine!"

"Where the hell am I supposed to find her? She won't pick up and answer my texts!" Mallory snapped.

"Why not just call the cops? Charge her with abandonment!" Orson yelled.

Orson's words hit me like a slap in the face.

It was ridiculous for him to accuse me of that.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to swallow the nausea churning in my gut.

The two of them were shouting at each other right outside the hotel, and passersby stopped to gawk at the scene.

Their faces went from red to white as people pointed and gossiped right in front of them.

In the end, Mallory caved.