Chapter 3 - The Family Vultures
The driver dropped Lily off at the corner of 4th Street, three blocks away from the Whitakers' small, rundown house in the suburban neighborhood of Oak Park.
Lily walked down the pavement, her head spinning so fast she felt dizzy. The roll of cash Victor had given her sat heavy in her jacket pocket—two thousand dollars. Her golden card sat inside her wicker basket like a glowing ember.
When she stepped through the front door of the Whitaker house, the smell of burnt bacon and cheap floor cleaner greeted her.
In the living room, Diane Whitaker sat on the plastic-covered sofa, watching a daytime talk show while flipping through a fashion magazine. Ashley, dressed in a brand-new pink sweater, was sitting at the dining table, painting her nails. Frank was standing by the kitchen counter, drinking coffee in his stained undershirt.
When the front door clicked shut, all three of them turned to look at her.
"You're back early," Frank growled, glancing at the old clock on the wall. "It's only two o'clock. Don't tell me you ran out of ingredients again."
"No," Lily said quietly, setting her empty basket on the entry table.
Ashley glanced at the basket and laughed. "Look at her. She didn't sell anything. She probably got kicked off the street by the police again."
"I sold everything," Lily said, her voice firmer than usual.
Frank snorted, walking toward her with his hand held out. "Well, hand it over then. The electric bill came today, and Diane needs money for groceries."
Lily stood by the door, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, feeling the thick roll of hundred-dollar bills under her fingertips. For fifteen years, she had handed over every quarter, every dollar, every dime she made. She had paid for Ashley’s school supplies, Brent’s gas money, and Diane’s church donations, while she slept in a converted pantry under the stairs on a cot that sagged in the middle.
"Lily," Frank's voice dropped, warning and sharp. "I said, hand it over."
Lily looked at her uncle. She saw the bulge of his stomach, the lazy, entitled cruelty in his eyes, and the complete lack of love or gratitude that had defined her entire childhood.
"No," Lily said softly.
The room went completely silent.
Diane stopped flipping her magazine. Ashley froze with her nail polish brush mid-air. Frank stared at Lily as if she had just spoken in ancient Greek.
"What did you just say to me?" Frank asked, taking a menacing step toward her.
"I said no," Lily repeated, her chin lifting slightly. "I earned this money. It's mine."
Frank’s face turned an ugly, mottling red. "Yours? Yours? You ungrateful little brat! Who paid for the flour and butter you used this morning? Who gave you a roof over your head when your useless father abandoned you? You owe us everything you have!"
"I have paid for my food five times over!" Lily shouted, her voice suddenly cracking with years of built-up pain. "I clean this entire house! I do the laundry! I give Diane ninety percent of what I make every single week! I don't owe you anything anymore, Frank!"
"You little bitch!" Frank roared, lunging forward to grab her arm.
"Frank, stop!" Diane yelled, finally sitting up, though her eyes were fixed on Lily's jacket pocket. "Lily, don't be stupid. You know we need the money. Just give your uncle the cash, and we'll forget this little outburst."
"Look at her," Ashley sneered, walking over with her arms crossed, looking at Lily with pure contempt. "She probably thinks she's special because some tourist bought ten dollars worth of candy. You're nothing, Lily. You're a charity case. Mom only kept you around so the church ladies would think she’s a saint."
The words hit Lily like a physical blow, but instead of crushing her, they did something else.
They snapped the last remaining thread holding her to this house.
Lily reached into her pocket, pulled out the golden business card Victor Hale had given her, and laid it flat on the dining table.
"Read it," Lily said, her voice terrifyingly calm.
Ashley frowned, stepping closer to look at the gold lettering on the card. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Hale International Enterprises," Ashley read out loud, her voice trembling slightly. "Victor Hale, Chairman and CEO."
Frank scoffed. "What is this trash? You stole a business card from a hotel lobby?"
"Mr. Hale bought my entire basket today on Michigan Avenue," Lily said, her green eyes flashing with a cold, clear light. "And he offered me a five-year modeling contract with a signing bonus of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
Silence descended on the room like a heavy anvil.
Diane gasped, dropping her magazine. Ashley stared at the card, her face turning pale with sudden, violent envy. Frank looked from the card to Lily, his brain struggling to process the information.
"A... a modeling contract?" Ashley shrieked, her voice turning high and hysterical. "You? That’s impossible! Victor Hale doesn't hire street vendors! He hires supermodels! You're lying! She's lying, Dad!"
"I'm not lying," Lily said. She pulled out the thick roll of hundred-dollar bills Victor had given her, holding it up so they could all see the cash. "This was just the deposit for my time."
Frank’s eyes went wide as saucers as he saw the money. The hostility in his face vanished instantly, replaced by a terrifying, predatory greed.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand..." Frank whispered, a disgusting smile slowly spreading across his face. He took a soft, slow step toward Lily, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. "Now, Lily... sweetheart... let's not get excited. We're family. We've always taken care of you, haven't we?"
Lily felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
"Family?" Lily laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "You made me sleep in a pantry, Frank. You let Ashley wear new clothes while I wore her rags. You called me a charity case ten seconds ago."
"We were just teaching you discipline!" Diane chimed in, rushing over from the sofa, her hands wringing nervously. "Lily, darling, you're young! You don't know how to handle that kind of money! A contract like that needs to be managed by family. Frank can act as your business manager! We can put the signing bonus into a joint account—"
"No," Lily said, stepping backward toward the front door.
"Lily, don't you dare walk out that door!" Frank shouted, his friendly tone evaporating in an instant as greed took over. "You sign that contract under our family name, or so help me, I will sue you for every penny of back-rent you owe us for the last fifteen years!"
Lily looked at the three of them—Frank with his furious, greedy eyes; Diane with her fake, desperate smile; and Ashley, glaring at her with pure, unadulterated hatred.
She felt no fear anymore. Only freedom.
"You won't get a single penny, Frank," Lily said clearly. "Because as of today, I don't exist to you anymore."
She grabbed her small canvas bag from the hook near the door—containing her mother’s old silver locket and her few personal belongings—turned the doorknob, and stepped out into the crisp Chicago air.
"Lily! Get back here!" Frank screamed, rushing to the porch.
Lily didn't look back. She walked down the street, flagged down a passing yellow taxi, and opened the door.
May you like
She sat in the back seat, looked at the driver, and held up the gold business card.
"Hale Enterprise Tower," Lily said, her voice steady and clear. "And please, hurry."
