"Bye-bye, Lynn; see you next time."
"See you next time, Irene."
After school hours, Irene waved goodbye to Lynn. Today had been a boring day; she thanked God it ended quickly, though she would miss Lynn, and it would take a long time to see her again.
On the way to the car, the driver opened the door for Irene. At that moment, her phone rang from her purse. "Who was it?"
Her brows knitted together as she picked up her phone to answer the call.
"Hello, Mom," she barely muttered. It was her mother calling her. When had she last heard from her? Yes, it hadn't been long, but she still missed her mom, even if she was strict. That was how she had always been—the perfect daughter of her mother, shining like a diamond necklace for her to share with others. The chains of being treated as a child would never be broken—or at least, not yet.
"Irene dear, come meet me at Moonlit Pack," Florence commanded over the phone. "And don't waste my time, Irene. I am a busy woman. Do you get it, dear?"
The word "dear" echoed in her mind after her mother's orders. Only the rest of the words were trying to escape her mind. Her mother wanted her to go to Moonlit Pack? Was she planning to introduce her to Simeon already?
For a moment, Irene stood there in silence, forgetting the right words to say to her mother. If times were still the same, she would have instantly nodded her head, saying yes and rushing over to the Moonlit Pack. But times weren't the same. Irene bit her lips; it was time to try breaking free. After all, she did not want to get married.
"Uh... look, Mom... marriage... I just don't think... um... it's something I'm ready for. What I'm trying to say is I'm not going to Moonlit Pack!"
She panicked between her words; the little confidence she had gathered all vanished into thin air. Her temples were soaked with sweat, and her hands holding the phone trembled. She bit her lips.
For sure, she was in big trouble. She had never tried disobeying her mom, right to her face. What had she done? It was a terrible mistake.
"Dear daughter, what did you say?"
Miss Florence's voice over the phone sounded patient and calm, but Irene could sense the growing annoyance that her tone carried.
To Miss Florence, Irene was to be always obedient to her; after all, she was her birth mother and the one who raised her. When did her little girl get so much courage to reject her? It was unacceptable.
"Dear, I ask you to go over it again. What did you say?"
Irene panicked because her mom was sounding too calm; she felt threatened by her peaceful, non-yelling voice.
Her hands trembled as the conversation continued. This was not the time to be scared, she chanted to herself. Although her mother appeared like a lioness, controlling her and making her obedient, that fear she had held for many years needed to stop.
"Bye, Mom; talk to you later. I love you~" Irene hurriedly said and quickly ended the call, not giving her mother a chance to say a single word.
"Phew, that was close," Irene muttered while putting her phone back into her purse. She got into the car, only to meet the driver's calm yet utterly shocked expression.
"What? Why are you looking at me that way?" Irene arched her brow at him with a pout.
She knew why the driver was looking at her that way; she guessed he was just surprised by how she had spoken to her mother.
"Miss," the driver turned toward her with a worried expression. "Do you think you are going to be safe in that house? I mean, will Miss Florence let you go?"
Would her mother let her go? After the driver's question, she began to think about it. Her plans had taken a very wrong turn.
"Sir Peter," she stared at the driver with a horrified expression. "Take me to the mountains."
"Come again, miss?" Peter asked, clearly confused. What did the young miss want to do at the mountains?
"You heard me right the first time, Peter; I said take me to the mountains."
Irene grew impatient and repeated herself; there was no time to explain more to the driver.
"But, Miss, it is snowing heavily out there, and the mountain would be covered in snow."
Peter tried stopping her from going and preventing himself from getting caught up in her mess. He was a wise middle-aged man; he couldn't face his boss, who was like an erupting volcano, over her daughter's rebellious decision.
Irene wanted to curse; she knew the driver was scared of her mom, and so was she, but that didn't mean she was the one who would get caught up first.
She knew her mother might have already started tracking her down to question her on why she was being rebellious.
"Peter, please," Irene looked at Peter with puppy-like eyes. "Take me to the mountain, Peter," she begged.
Her pitiful act seemed to work, and Peter started the car, heading toward the mountains.
"Miss, when you are asked, I was not the one who drove you to the mountains—a taxi took you."
"Yes, Peter, I know, go," Irene urged, half-heartedly listening to whatever he said.
"Miss Irene, please. I was sick and went to the hospital when a taxi drove you to the cold mountains."
Her driver sounded like he was about to cry. Irene sighed; she couldn't understand why even a middle-aged man was scared of her mother. Her mother was terrifying, though.
---
At the top of the mountain, Irene stood alone, with the cool breeze mixed with snow hitting her face.
The mountain was the best place to get in quick contact with her brother. His number didn't usually work because he used a different server. His mobile was built by him, and so was the server. That's why it was different.
The only person who could save her right now from her mother was her brother.
Her fingers hurriedly dialed her brother's number. The first time, it didn't go through, and the third time was the same. The snow chilled her face, making her bite her lips and adding tension to her shoulders.
Her brother Jason was not picking up.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Atlanta, Irene's brother was hitting a red punching bag. Back and forth, the punching bag bounced as Jason delivered a strong punch to it. He had a peaceful, satisfying smirk on his face as the punching bag, lightened by its torn contents, drooped over to the floor.
His phone rang many times, but he only had eyes for the punching bag. Through the corner of his eye, he saw it was his sister Irene calling. He smirked, ignoring the call first before focusing back on the bag, delivering punches to its already torn body.
"Little sis calling, huh? Let her wait a bit longer," he muttered, smirking.
Back to Irene on the mountain. She gnashed her teeth in annoyance. Her brother wasn't picking up; didn't he know that their mother was on her neck?
"Damn you, Jason, if you're doing this on purpose," she mumbled with knitted brows.
The last time she called, unexpectedly, the call went through, making her words halt in her throat.
"Hello, lovely little sis, how are you?"
Jason's masculine, drowsy voice rang over the phone, and Irene could picture his smirk.
"Jason, mother is on my neck; I disobeyed her; you need to save me."
Irene quickly pleaded for her brother's help. If there was anyone, he was the only one who could save her from their mother.
She had decided to be rebellious, and nothing could stop her if she wanted to be, though she was doing it in fear. The fear of her mother.
Jason left his punching bag and sat on his silver seat, wanting to listen closely.
"What's it about, sis? You tried to disrespect Mom? Where are you now?" He sounded almost concerned, though laughter tried to escape between his smirk.
"I'm on the snowy mountain; that's how I got to you. Mom won't find me, right?" Irene asked, uncertain. Her mother was smart; she wasn't sure if she could outsmart her.
"You think you're smart?" Jason laughed like an evil villain. "Sad to tell you, sis, but I bet Mom is already there."
"You said what?!" Irene asked, confused. Before she knew it, the snow started blowing heavily above her like a rising tornado.
"What is that?" She covered her eyes, looking up to see a helicopter hovering above, causing the swirling snow she thought was a tornado.
"Bro, help!" Irene whispered into her phone with pain in her eyes.
"Help you with what? Go to Mommy, little sis." Jason laughed like the devil and disconnected the call.
"Irene, get over here!" Miss Florence yelled from the helicopter.
"If you come closer, I'll jump." Irene stared at her mother from afar with stubbornness in her eyes. Yes, she would jump.
"Irene, if you jump, I'll jump with you!"