My parents have tears in their eyes as they watch me pack. I choose to ignore their sad expressions because I know that I will stay here if I stare at them for too long.

They want me to fall into their trap, a trap that is likely going to work if I pay too much attention to them.

"Don't look at me like that; I refuse to fall into your trap." I state closing the suitcase, my eyes looking around, trying to see if I have left something lying around.

My emotions might betray me, and I do not need that at the moment. I need to focus and be courageous. I do not need to be a baby at the moment.

I am a twenty year old who does not need to be pampered, sometimes.

"B-but," Mom whimpers. "You can't just leave like that, you are too young to live out there with strangers. You are still a baby, our baby." Mom says with a small sad voice making my insides melt.

I sigh in sadness knowing that this will be very difficult for not only them but me as well.

I have never stayed away from home, not for holidays nor for a sleepover. My parents do not trust and have never trusted anyone with me, they hid me from the world like an egg.

Both of them have no one to call family, and the blood related people they do have, only love them when money is involved.

My parents never had the privileged life, it was difficult for them to live in their village.

Dad was lucky in a way because he was a boy, black, but still a boy. He was trained to be the head of the house, and he was still taken to school.

While Mom was not that fortunate. Mom was trained to be a housewife when she reached puberty, she did not have the privilege of going to school and she was told that a woman's life belongs in the kitchen, she was also told that a woman's life is behind the broom and the most important one, a woman's life is on her knees for her husband.

The rules were crazy, that's why her father, my grandfather shipped her away to a boarding school in another city.

My grandfather paid for accommodation, food and all other requirements till he died, he died on my mother's graduation day.

Mom's mother brought her back to the village, forcing her into marriage.

The disgusting part is that Mom was suppose to marry the seventy year old chef of the village, she was suppose to be his fifteenth wife. She was eighteen at the time.

But Mom managed to run away on the day of the wedding with some cash that grandpa left. She chose to leave the toxic life behind, and I am proud of her.

She and Dad met on a train on the day of her failed wedding. And he provided her with shelter and food, he was not worried about her being a murderer or thief because grandpa was a known man in the small village.

They moved to this city, where they were not known. And they got married, having me years after they both managed to achieve their dreams.

I did not get to read how they fell in love though, I heard the door open before I could reach that far.

Yes, I read the whole story in Mom's journal. The journal has all Mom's memories, good and bad: and I hope she gives it to me soon.

"I know that I am still a baby. But I need to do this, Ma." I whine sitting on the bed, right next to the suitcase. "This is what I need to graduate, and prove Mr Martino innocent." Sadness is present in my voice as I remember Mr Martino's state, Hunter's words replaying in my head as well.

"Why do you want to risk your life for such a man? A criminal like him needs to be behind bars. The man has done a lot of shady business in this country, he needs to be punished." Das speaks for the first time this morning, his face now looking angry. "That man deserves what is happening to him, a criminal needs to be behind bars, away from the innocent."

I told my parents the name of my client, and just like I expected they were not happy about it. They wanted me to ask for another client but I refused to accept it.

Diego has passed through alot, and I will feel guilty if I do not help him, I have a very guilty conscience and I know that there is more to Diego's case.

Hunter did not tell me everything because he said I would snitch on them, and I did not force him. And I made sure that I told my parents half of the what I know.

They do not need to know what Diego passes through and everything else that involves him. That is not their business, they just need to know his name in case something happens to me.

"You have no right to judge him though," I state looking into his eyes, my voice lacking warmth.

I do not know why, but it angers me when someone says something bad about Diego.

Diego has had a rough life, and I got to see what goes on behind that strong man facade he puts on.

"Don't talk to your father like that," mom murmurs, her tears long gone. "The man is just a stranger. And your father is right; that man is a criminal, a well known dangerous criminal."

"But you don't even know him. You both haven't met him, yet you judge him like you have lived with him." I snort standing up. "You tell me to not judge anyone in this world, but you do the exact opposite of what you say. We judge people on what we hear, we never get to know the people we judge: and we never get to hear their stories. Diego has his name in everyone's mouths, all of us saying bad about him. But have we ever confirmed that the rumors are true?" I ask watching as my parents look at each other with sad eyes.

I wait for them to say something but they do not, they instead look at me with sadness and worry in their eyes.

"I thought so too." I say shaking my head. "I will see you guys in two weeks time." I mutter walking past them.

I reach the bottom of the stairs with my suitcase rolling behind me when I hear a voice behind me.

"You can't blame us for wanting to protect you," I hear Dad's pained voice say. "We love you and we don't want to see you die in the hands of the wicked." Mom continues.

I want to laugh as I hear their words, it is crazy how people say one thing, but still do the opposite.

"And I would rather die fighting to know the truth." I say opening the door. "You guys need to start following what you preach. Not everything you hear is true. I love you, but I need to see justice prevail. I will text you guys when I reach my destination." I state walking out of the house, not looking back.

I walk towards my car, opening the backseat and pushing my purse and backack aside, leaving some room for my suitcase.

I put everything in order, walking towards the driver's seat.

I start the car, looking at the two figures that are looking at me with longing eyes.

I decide to give them a small smile, knowing that they will be proud of me at the end of this.

I drive out of the yard and into the main road. Diamonds by Rihanna playing in the background as my head goes back to Mr Martino's lifeless figure.

I hope what I am doing will help him heal. I really do hope he finds his peace.

AUTHOR'S NOTE.