Chapter 11: A Snitch

Eliana Bennett’s knees pressed into the plush carpet as dawn streamed through the towering windows of her hostel, drenching the room in warmth. The soft chairs, the air scented heavily with roses and sandalwood, and the glittering chandeliers above... none of it mattered. It was all beauty wrapped around brokenness. Frank sat perched on the edge of her queen-sized bed, dwarfed by the luxury. His shoulders curved forward, his thin fingers woven tightly together as he tried to stop their tremors. Once, those hands had lifted her high into the air, making her believe she could touch the sky. Now they trembled just trying to hold on. "Papa, I’ve got lectures today," Eliana said softly, her eyes searching his face for a spark of the man he used to be. She adjusted the thin blanket over his knees, her fingers brushing against the rough fabric of his sweater. "I can’t miss them, but I won’t be gone long. Promise. If you’re hungry, just ask the staff for something to eat, okay? They’re nice here." Frank’s gaze lingered on the floor, his gray eyes dull, as if the weight of their losses had drained the light from them. "Alright, Eli," he murmured, his voice sounding very small. "You go. I’ll be fine." Eliana’s heart twisted, but she forced a smile, her full lips trembling slightly. "We’ll figure this out, Papa. I swear." She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, her curly black hair falling like a curtain around them. With a final glance, she grabbed her backpack, and hurried out the door, her sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. The hostel’s grandeur faded behind her as the chauffeur drove her toward campus. Her mind was a tangled mess of worry and determination, so she didn’t notice the sleek black car pulling into the hostel’s driveway, nor the figure that stepped out, her glossy jet-black hair pulled into a flawless high bun. ****** Sarai Monroe sauntered into the hostel, her designer heels clicking sharply against the marble. She’d forgotten her favorite silk scarf in her room—a careless oversight that irritated her. Her sharp green eyes scanned the living room, expecting the usual quiet elegance, but froze when they landed on Frank, slumped on the cream-colored velvet couch. His faded clothes clashed starkly with the room’s pristine luxury, and Sarai’s lips curled into a barely concealed sneer. "Oh my God," she said, her voice dripping with honeyed warmth as she approached, her emerald earrings catching the light. "Mr. Bennett, what a surprise to see you here." She perched on the armrest of a nearby chair, crossing her legs with practiced grace. "How’s your health? And how are you and Eliana holding up with... everything?" Frank looked up, his tired eyes softening at her kindness. "Oh, Sarai, you’re sweet to ask," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "It’s been rough, you know. Losing the house, the store... and my health ain’t what it used to be. But Eliana, she’s strong. Keeps me going." Sarai’s smile widened, though her eyes remained cold. "Of course she is. Eliana’s always been... resilient." She leaned forward, her tone soothing. "Don’t you worry, Mr. Bennett. Everything’s going to be just fine. You’ll see." Frank nodded, a flicker of hope crossing his face. "Thank you, Sarai. Means a lot, you being so kind." "Oh, it’s nothing," she said, standing and smoothing her tailored blazer. "You rest now." She turned, her smile vanishing the moment her back was to him. Her heels clicked furiously as she stormed down the hall to her room, her expression twisting into a mask of rage. How dare she? she thought, her manicured nails digging into her palms. Bringing that pathetic old man here, letting him sit on our couch like he belongs in this world? Inside her room, Sarai yanked her phone from her purse, her fingers trembling with fury as she dialed a number she knew by heart. The line connected, and a gruff voice answered. "Miss Monroe? What can I do for you?" "Mr. Caldwell," Sarai said, her voice low and sharp, "we have a problem. Eliana Bennett has gone and brought her father to live here at the hostel. Her father, of all people, sitting on our furniture, touching our things. He’s not used to places like this, he’s just a garbage collector. He could ruin everything—scratch the floors, break something, drive down the property value if anyone finds out someone like him was here." Caldwell, the hostel’s head of security and a man indebted to Sarai’s father for past favors, cleared his throat. "That’s... concerning, Miss Monroe. We can’t have that. What do you suggest?" Sarai’s lips curled into a wicked smile. "Just get him out. Quietly. And, Caldwell? Don’t mention my name. Eliana’s my friend, and I’d hate for her to think I’m betraying her trust. I’m only telling you this because I care about this place." "Of course, Miss Monroe," Caldwell said, his tone deferential. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Consider it handled." "You’re welcome," Sarai purred. "Just doing my duty as a responsible resident." She ended the call, tossing her phone onto her bed with a triumphant laugh. "Oh, Eliana," she said aloud, her voice dripping with venom. "You think you can waltz into our world, play the perfect little princess, and steal Jason from me? You’ll regret ever trying to belong here." ****** Twenty minutes later, the hostel’s front doors swung open with a gust of authority. Caldwell, a burly man in a crisp suit, marched in with two security guards flanking him, their boots thudding against the marble. Frank looked up, startled, as they approached, their faces stern. "Mr. Bennett," Caldwell said, his voice clipped, "you need to leave. Now." Frank’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his eyes. "Leave? But... Eliana said I could stay. This is her place, ain’t it?" "This is a private residence," Caldwell snapped, "and you’re not authorized to be here. Let’s go. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be." From the hallway, Sarai watched, her arms crossed, her expression one of feigned concern. "Oh, Mr. Caldwell, is everything okay?" she called, stepping forward with wide, innocent eyes. "What’s happening to poor Mr. Bennett?" "Just handling a situation, Miss Monroe," Caldwell replied, not meeting her gaze. "Nothing to worry about." Sarai placed a hand over her heart, her voice trembling with fake distress. "Oh, I hope he’s alright. It’s just so sad, isn’t it?" She turned away, hiding a smirk as the guards grabbed Frank’s arms, hoisting him from the couch as they hustled him toward the door like a discarded piece of trash. "Wait, please," Frank protested, his voice weak but desperate. "I ain’t causing no trouble. Just let me call Eliana—" "Out," one of the guards barked, shoving him through the glass doors. They stepped onto the manicured lawn, the gates looming ahead. "Don’t loiter around here, old man, or we’ll call the cops. Understand?" Frank stumbled, catching himself against the gate, his breath ragged. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling down his weathered cheeks as he fumbled for his phone. His trembling fingers dialed Eliana’s number, his heart pounding with shame and fear. "Eli?" he said when she answered, his voice breaking. "It’s me. They... they kicked me out. I’m outside the hostel. Please, come back." ****** In a lecture hall across town, Eliana sat hunched over her notebook, her pencil scratching furiously as she tried to focus on her professor’s droning voice. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced at it, seeing her father’s name. The moment she answered and heard his sobs, her heart plummeted, a cold dread seizing her chest. "Papa? What’s wrong?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "They kicked me out," Frank repeated, his words choked with tears. "I don’t know why, Eli. I didn’t do nothin’." Eliana’s breath caught, her eyes darting around the room as panic surged through her. Without a word, she shoved her books into her bag and bolted from her seat, ignoring the professor’s shout—"Ms. Bennett, where do you think you’re going?"—as she sprinted down the aisle. Her sneakers pounded the linoleum, her curls bouncing wildly as she raced out of the building, her heart hammering with fear and fury. Who did this? she thought, tears stinging her eyes as she ran toward the hostel, the city blurring around her. And why? The sun dipped low, spreading across the hostel’s pristine gates, where Frank stood alone, his frail figure trembling in the evening chill. For Eliana, the maze of uncertainty had just grown darker, and the betrayal she couldn’t yet name was closing in.