Chapter 1
The atmosphere that morning was not a very cordial one.
But then, when had it ever been? It had nothing to do with the climate, but everything to do with the people who resided in the mansion. They all yearned to be anywhere but there. There was no communication except for the 'how are you's and 'good mornings' between them. Everyone ate in their separate rooms to avoid crossing paths with each other as they were not exuberant about starting any sort of conversation with anyone.
But Zachary knew that morning was going to be different, and not in a fortunate kind of way. If anything, it was going to be more awful than the previous mornings. And without being told, he knew the reason why. He silently cursed himself for being born into a family where the parents were not primed to raise children. All that mattered to them was the amount of money they could acquire in seconds. The welfare of their kids was a secondary priority. They felt they could always solve every single issue with a bundle of notes.
Slipping out of bed, Zachary stretched to his full six-feet-two-inches height and headed straight to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth. The weather that morning was perfect and he could not resist the urge to go for a run, so he quickly slipped into his running clothes and fastened the laces of his trainers. Taking with him his cell phone and air-pods, he strode out of the house desperately hoping not to bump into anyone. He needed the serenity.
"Good morning, Alexander. I'm going for a run," he called out to the gatekeeper as he waltzed through, not bothering to wait for a response from the middle-aged Englishman.
Zachary's neighborhood consisted of big and elegant houses, most of which had similar designs. It was known for housing elites.
As he ran past Maguy's house, he saw that she was watering her garden. Maguy was a sweet French lady in her early sixties who lived with her only son. They had moved into the neighborhood after her husband's passing.
"Bonjour, Maguy."
The old lady lifted her head and gave him a heartwarming smile. "Bonjour, Zachary. Comment vas-tu ce beau matin?"
"Je vais bien," he replied with a cheeky smile.
He adored Maguy because she was a motherly figure. She always checked on him from time to time and he wished his parents could be like her.
"À plus tard." he waved.
"D'accord." she reciprocated his action and he continued his run.
Thirty minutes later, he found himself standing in front of his house. When he arrived the previous day, his parents had not been around. But one glance at the garage told him they were inside. That was the moment he had been dreading all along. Being expelled was enough to infuriate his parents. Looking towards the entrance, he found Desiree walking in his direction. He sighed, slipping his hands into the pockets of his joggers.
"Morning, Zack. Mum and Dad are looking for you. They're so mad." she stated the last part in a singsong manner.
"I know, Des."
And with that, he strutted into the house with a stoic expression, bracing himself for what was to come. The scene that welcomed him as he stepped into the living room was nothing unexpected. His mother was sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands while his father paced in front of her. A clear indication that they were stressed.
"Good morning, Mum. Good morning, Dad."
He instantly regretted drawing their attention to himself when he was met with the blazing dark eyes of his father.
"If you're sensible enough then you'd know that there is nothing good about the morning." his father, David Smith snapped angrily. "We had to leave our clients in New York to come back to London simply because our son got expelled from his school. How convenient is that?"
Zachary swallowed the lump in his throat but still, he could not bring himself to argue with his angry father.
"How could you be so irresponsible?"
"I'm sorry, Dad." he apologized.
"Sorry, you say? This isn't about me, Zack. It's about your future."
"I just wanted to have some fun." he made a feeble attempt at defending his actions.
"Ha!" his mother, Helen Smith, gave a humorless laugh. "Fun?" she asked, standing up from where she had been sitting quietly so that they were at eye level.
Although his mother was less intimidating than his father, he knew better than to mess with her.
"How could you, Zack? I and your father had so much faith in you." she lamented.
Zachary suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at her statement. There they went again acting like the victims when in fact, he and Desiree were the ones who were so unfortunate to have been born into such a loveless family where so much was expected of them.
"Now listen to me," she continued, "I and your father have decided that you're going back home."
He frowned in confusion. "Home?"
"Yes. You and Desiree are going back to Canada to complete high school," she stated firmly.
That was the last thing he was expecting. He could not picture himself in Canada trying to fit in. Even though he had lived there for the first few years of his existence, his parents' decision did not sit well with him. Their lives were in London.
"I can't." he countered.
"Why not?" David asked, raising a single eyebrow.
"Our lives are here in London. Why can't you just find another school for me and leave Desiree out of it? She's done nothing wrong!"
He knew how much his sister loved London and he did not want her to despise him for the rest of their lives.
"You're both going to Canada and that's final." His mother balled her fists in rage. His parents were using the situation to their advantage. They simply wanted to get rid of them for good.
"You're just trying to get rid of us so that you both can finally have your freedom." he flared, not able to contain his anger any longer.
"Be quiet! We're doing this for you. It's for your own good. Now listen to me attentively, go to your room and get your things ready. Inform Desiree too. Your flight leaves in three hours."
"I'm not leaving. You can't make me do what I don't want to," he said defiantly and his parents looked at him like he had grown another head.
"What has come over you? This isn't how we raised you." his mother was appalled by his impudence.
Zachary was not one to counter his parents' decision. Whatever they wanted, he always went with the flow. That was the first time he was standing up to them.
"That's the problem, Mum. You never raised us because you were never around. You and Dad always had something to do in some country that was far more important than your kids. It's a miracle we panned out okay."
"That's not true. We've always provided you and your sister with the best of everything," argued David Smith.
"The best of everything? You sent us both to a boarding school here in London. In the same city we reside all because you can't stand having us around for the few days you usually come home. Just admit it. You despise us."
Zachary was furious but he could not care less. Enough was enough. Their parenting skills were terrible and since they claimed not to know it, it was time someone pointed it out to them.
"Oh, Zachary..." came Helen Smith's frail voice. Her face was a picture of guilt and shame.
"I'm so sorry if we ever made you and Desiree feel that way but it isn't true. We don't despise you. You're both our children." she tried to placate him.
"You sure have a funny way of showing it."
"Your mother is right. How could you think of something like that?" his father said.
"If you don't despise us then why do you always get rid of us at every single opportunity?"
"We both have very demanding jobs. The company is..." his mother started to explain but he cut her off.
"It's always about the company, isn't it? The feeling's mutual by the way, I don't want to be around you guys too."
Zachary walked out of the living room leaving no room for further discussion. Canada was a thousand miles away and it was exactly what his pathetic excuse for parents needed. Over the past few years, he had learned not to let his parents' behavior get to him and so far, he was doing great. The only problem was Desiree. He did not know how she was going to react.
Sighing, he turned in the direction of her room.
