The sun was very bright but none of its rays ever touched her soft skin, though amidst of that, Sandara admired how it does its job without a comment or consequence. With a contented sigh, Sandara turned from the window and went to her stool in front of an easel. Ever since she was locked up inside the house, she suddenly had this passion to paint everything she saw when she was a still free as a kid that she cannot see now. It started with landscapes until it reached the people she knew—the company employees, her friends, their neighbors and her parents. They only exist now her life through the paintings but then, she knew it was better than nothing.

Sandara was about to retouch the landscape she finished last night when there was a knock on her door. She stood up from her stool and reached for it, twisting the doorknob. Bom, their late housekeeper’s daughter, stood with a tray in her hands. Sandara smiled, brightly and let her inside, opening the door widely.

“Bommie-yah!” Sandara shouted, her voice showing too much excitement that it turned out much louder than she intended to do before she could even shut the door, earning a quick glare from Bom, and holding up a peace sign with her fingers, Sandara closed the door behind her.

“Your ugly stepmother told me to serve you a breakfast in bed.” Bom said, her voice sounds like she’s irritated, rolling her eyes and gingerly placed the tray on top of the small round table, just beside Sandara’s bed. “She’s busy planning for the party for your company’s investors.”

“Did she mutter anything that I can come?” Sandara asked, sitting on the chair in front of the round table, wide-eyed and expectant, and gestured for Bom occupy the chair countering her. The latter willingly obliged, and grumpily sat, her lips twitching.

“Ever since you were five, you weren’t allowed to come to her parties. Do you think she would let you this time that you’re twenty-five?” Bom’s eyebrows were raked as equally as how her voice sounded angry and tight.

Sandara shook her head and sighed. The tragedy that happened twenty years ago grieved her stepmother so much that she ordered for her to not to go outside. Ever since then, Sandara was kept inside the house and forbidden to things involving meeting people or to the outside. She thought that her stepmother did this for her safety, but then there’s this second thought that clings inside her mind that her stepmother did this because of something she couldn’t figure. Maybe it involves the company, who knows?

“I’ve already told her that I won’t get involved in a relationship without her permission.” Sandara said, grabbing herself a piece of the bread and spreading jam all over the top; she ate it delicately.

“I don’t think she has a problem with you falling in love.” Bom commented, pouring milk into the glass and handed it over to Sandara. The latter gladly accepted it and took a sip before proceeding to her bread, eating abruptly. It tasted bland and nothing compared to her breakfast yesterday but she heard that her stepmother was on a diet starting so that she’ll be in good shape at the investors’ party and so, the whole house is also on a diet.

“Maybe she’s afraid that I might get kidnapped or be hurt if the media asks of my father’s disappearance.” Sandara suggested, eating the last part of the bread and drank the whole glass of milk.

“You really love your stepmother, do you?” Bom asked, raising one eyebrow. Sandara could only nod, and answer, “She’s the only family I have left.”

“You’re really something.” Bom commented, and sighed. Her eyes suddenly flashed into stormy, unreadable ones. “But the true reason why I’m here aside from giving you breakfast, I want to give you a gift.”

“Is it my birthday?” Sandara pointed at herself, completely bewildered and turned to the calendar to see the date. It was just the 14^th of October.

“No,” Bom sternly replied; Sandara quickly looked back at her. Bom produced a small box from her housekeeper uniform and handed it over to her. It was wrapped in a bond paper and a thin ribbon solely served as its design.

“I took all the words from my brain just to convince your stepmother that isn’t some kind of bomb or key to whatever door she strictly prohibits.” Bom said as Sandara opens it. “But I want you to go the hell out of here and visit the company. Just take a cab, give the small paper attached to key to the driver and he will drive you to the company’s building. I just hope I’m not too late to give you that. Your father gave that to my mother to be given to you but my old woman passed away so she instructed that I should be the one to give that to you when you reach puberty.”

Sandara glared at the Bom, the key with a paper attached to it in her fingers. “I’ve reached puberty seven years ago.”

“You didn’t look like you reached puberty, your face looked like you’re just fourteen, and you were goddamn hell so nice to your stepmother.” Bom contradicted. “At least it diminished by five percent or ten these days because of the garden incident.”

“Where do I hail a cab?” Sandara asked, changing the subject and standing up to change her clothes.

“Walk until you reach the entrance of the subdivision, and then, you turn right—that will lead you to the district. You walk further until you reach the bus stop, there you can wait for a cab legally.” Bom instructed as Sandara changes her sweatpants and hoodie to a pair of dark-colored jeans and T-shirt. She puts on a hoodie to hide her face in case someone intends to stare at her—definitely; she wouldn’t like it if her stepmother knew of this thing.

“Is mother here?” She asked Bom as soon as she was finished, her hood put on and the key inside her pocket.

“Well,” Bom slyly smiled. “I planned this too well.”