"Are you leaving?"
Amber, who had been dividing the pebbles into the basket according to their sizes, was taken aback and stopped her movements. It seemed difficult for her to easily believe Laila's words.
She was the only daughter of the flower shop on Blast Street, just like most of the shops in the neighborhood, which served as flower fronts for the bars.
Laila and Amber had grown up together on this street since they were young. They knew each other better than anyone else, and they trusted each other enough to share secrets. Amber would often gather withered flowers for Laila, who loved flowers.
"Yes."
Laila replied with a determined face.
"But what about your parents?"
"They won't know. Even if they raised me, I can't follow their wishes when it comes to marriage."
Leaving home was as significant to her as the world changing. If it weren't for the forced marriage they were pushing on her, she wouldn't have mustered the courage for this. She was still scared and trembling, but marrying Stear was even worse than dying.
Everyone on Blast Street knew how cruel and relentless he was. He made money from running the women's trade and gambling, even taking the last bit of money from the poor. Under the pretext of maintaining order on the street, he collected rents not only from his own shops but also from the street vendors.
People trembled at his audacity, yet dared not rebel. They had witnessed several individuals lose their limbs or become lifeless corpses, devoured by rats countless times.
Sane parents would never entertain the idea of giving their daughter to such a scoundrel. Even if words could penetrate, attempting to persuade Delma and Marshall would be in vain. They were simple and ignorant individuals. The boundaries of Blast Street were their entire world, never venturing beyond its confines. Their desires revolved around the basic necessities of eating, sleeping, earning money, and selling Laila to live a slightly more comfortable life. The pressure for Stella to marry would intensify. It was frightening, but for now, she would depart, with the intention of returning once time had passed and she could establish a new position.
"Stella won't stay put."
"He doesn't have the right to do so."
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Laila's departure from home wasn't due to debts or weaknesses. She was different from the women who fled. Although Stella persistently pursued her, it did not qualify him to chase after her. She had to leave this place before Stella could set a trap to capture her.
"Amber, is all my money still intact?"
Laila redirected her question.
"Of course. We checked just a week ago."
Amber gestured toward the interior of the store and responded. Inside a vacant corner pot, Laila had entrusted her money for two years. It was a precautionary measure in case Stella, Delma, and Marshall openly pressured her. Originally, she had hidden the money at home, but that lazy and clouded judgment of a man, Marshall, managed to steal it all. It was a marvel how someone with such dulled perception and laziness had such a keen sense for the smell of money. Hence, she entrusted the money to Amber, someone she could trust, and she faithfully safeguarded Lyla's funds. Over time, she had managed to save up 200 shillings. With that money, she could afford several months' rent once she left her home.
"Give me 5 shillings now. The rest, I will come to collect in two nights."
"So, you really intend to leave."
Amber's voice trailed off as she sensed Laila's resolve. Having relied on each other like sisters for so long, the disappointment would be profound. Laila felt it too, but it was an inevitable occurrence.
"And where will you go?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Laila rose from her seat with a faint smile. While she did have a rough plan in her mind, she refrained from divulging it unnecessarily. It wasn't because she didn't trust Amber, but rather her own nature. She was inclined to keep her lips sealed until she had fully made up her mind about any matter.
"Alright, I understand. I'll get things ready for you."
"Thank you, Amber."
Laila glanced at the clay figurine in her hand before gently placing it next to her companions in the basket. It was a type of succulent plant. Once it sprouted and grew, it would produce beautiful flowers.
I will become like that too, she whispered inwardly.
"Oh, by the way, take this with you."
Amber picked up a bouquet of lilies that had been placed to the side. They were fresh, vibrant flowers, not the withered ones given away before disposal.
"Why is this for me?"
"It might be your last chance. Take it."
"Thank you," murmured Laila as she accepted the bouquet and buried her nose in the flowers. Amber, observing Laila's swift transformation into a beautiful smile, sensed an unfamiliar sensation within her.
Laila was someone who should hold flowers, not a fish knife. Beyond her beauty, she possessed an inherent elegance in every gesture and movement. It was a natural grace that flowed effortlessly from her being, without the need for learning or striving.
Amber felt she knew why Laila captivated so many hearts. It was because there was something unattainable about her, something that remained elusive no matter how much they reached out. Though the nature of that unattainable quality remained unknown, it only fueled their desire for it, precisely because it was difficult to possess.