It was a beautiful morning. But the warmth of this beauty that the rising sun provided, couldn't touch Sofia's cold gone heart. Last night, it had ached so much in pain and humiliation that she was left feeling numb now.

Was that how Max used to feel when she had begun ignoring him all those years ago? Had it hurt like this when her so-called friends had mocked him?

Yes, she'd later heard about the cafeteria fiasco. It happened right after Max had cornered her to inquire about her change in behavior earlier there, but what could she tell him other than a lie—that she did not have any answers—because the truth had been too complex because she could not really tell him that everything at home was quickly spiraling downwards. She had been a coward in a dauntless warrior's clothing. And as she went out of the cafeteria her so-called friends surrounded Max with revolting words.

Sofia snorted recalling how she'd later punished those friends of hers, they'd been more well behaved at least with Max from then on. Not that Max knew of her hand in it. She couldn't afford him knowing.

She had deserted him, idiotically, just because she was scared of what their friendship could unveil of her and of the weakness— the secret of appalling violence in her household that she chose to bury underneath that strong exterior of hers. It had seemed necessary during that time that required she concealed, and Max was a dangerous seeker.

And therefore, she ceased talking to him like she used to; ignored him while he chased after her; ran away when he demanded an answer.

And then there was the prom night.

Sofia let out a shuddering breath as memories of that night brought a chill of absolute horror run up her spine until it settled at the back of her throat—threatening to cut her air supply.

She did not even want to remember.

It was safer that she indulged herself in the guilt of denying Max even after promising to be with him at the prom.

Pushing Max away had seemed mandatory to her. But that was until one day he up and left the city.

She broke inwardly when she heard of his departure from Neil. She had done it, she'd successfully pushed him away and only realized the severity of her actions after all was done. The anguish that had hit her was unexplainable.

She had only herself to blame, but she was just a teenager dealing with some of the most devilish cards to play in her life. And she was a player scared out of her wits still trying like hell with the poker face on.

It was a given that she was to lose.

Fate had been too unfair to Sofia. But she hadn't known then that fate wasn't merely done with her yet.

As if losing him was not enough, she lost both her parents too just two days after in a house fire.

Apparently, when she was out on a walk to get a break from the insanity of her home, her parents had just managed to light up a fire. The forensic said they were in the kitchen and there'd been obvious signs of a brawl between them, of course.

Sofia came back to a herd of police, firemen, and a horror-stricken crowd surrounding her half-burnt home. Her parents' bodies were being carried out in two stretchers, their half-burnt bodies were covered in clothes.

Sofia sat on her balcony floor as dawn broke through the sky. Her knees were pressed close to her chest with her hands surrounding them in a fetal posture.

She had been here the entire night after a very unsteady drive back home from the reunion party—her eyes blurry from tears that didn't cease spilling over since the very second she had escaped the party venue. Her hands had shaken while clutching the steering wheel in a death grip, the distress that settled heavily inside her chest refused to let go of her any time soon. And she had allowed herself to drown in this distress further and deeper as the night passed by.

A point came when the darkness didn't affect her anymore, the cold didn't matter, and now, even the hurt from last night couldn't make her cry.

She was out of tears. No more of those warm liquids were left for her to shed.

She knew Max was mad at her so incredibly much for how she had hurt him in the past. But, realizing, all of the sudden—to which extent he hated her now struck her like a crackling thunder.

Flashes of the times he had shown disregard towards her; his double meaning jibes; actions that had hinted at his suppressed hatred, and lastly, the ways in which he along with his female companions had humiliated her in the party—it all reeled before her eyes.

Seemed like, it had been his plan all along to take revenge on her. Indeed, he had been.

And he had succeeded.

His revenge was complete.

Her awaiting his return over the past ten years; her repentance; her resolve to apologize to him—nothing mattered.

He was never going to look at her without the venomous hatred ever again, was he?

As Sofia stared with half-opened eyes at the glaring sun high in the sky now, she realized that things were ruined beyond any hope between them years ago. She had ruined it, yes, she was the reason. And no amount of her attempts would be able to mend the broken strings between her and Max.

The distance she had created would be preserved by him, forever.

It was like an unsolved riddle, a creation of Karma.

However, one thing just stood out so authentically now. It was the fact that he had gone to great lengths just to take his revenge. She might be that much of a great beast then—for him to put so much energy to just display how much he hated her.

Maybe... maybe that was why her parents had left her too after initially losing themselves to violence and depression. Maybe because she didn't deserve happiness, she didn't deserve love, a safe haven or sanctuary, neither forgiveness nor consolation.

It was disturbing—the depressing thoughts that refused to leave her after last night. Thoughts that had always been there—buried, and so fiercely had been now awakened.

Sofia blinked not being able to stare at the sun anymore. It was not in her power to keep on staring at something so powerful. She gazed down. Moving shadows began dancing before her pupils, providing painful stings at the back of her eyes.

Releasing her knees, Sofia slowly stood up. She swayed a little. Strangely, the warm outside breeze made her shiver in cold.

With slow, unsteady steps, she walked inside her room.

While walking past the cupboard mirror, the glint of lovely blue caught the corner of her eye. Sofia halted dead on her track and as she turned to look at the mirror—her movements robotic, she noticed that she was still wearing the blue dress Max had sent her as a gift.

She recalled how excited, how happy, and hopeful she was when her eyes fell on this dress for the first time. But instead of filling her heart with joy and decorating her cheeks with zealous pink, the sight of this dress now filled her heart with dread.

Unpleasant memories danced in front of her eyes. The memory of Max's mocking; victorious smile once again shattered her.

With frantic speed, Sofia got out of the dress with her hands trembling the whole time as if the soft material of the dress was burning her fingers. It did burn her indeed, deeper than skin and flesh. She threw it away with a hissing sob and watched it slide across the floor to disappear under her bed.

--

It was a good thing that the house was empty for most of the day.

Skyler was out for a girls' night at a friend's, Sam had tagged along because the said friend had a younger brother who was apparently his friend too. From experience, Sofia knew that the girls' night along with the younger boys' night was going to stretch till this evening.

Also thankfully, grampa was still in bed at such a late hour for one rare morning. Sofia checked on him and found with relief that he was alright. True, it was out of his habit, but people should sometimes be able to break their own rules and do whatever they wanted.

Sofia was pleased that no one was going to try to interrogate her about the reason for her swollen, red-rimmed eyes which no amount of cold water could diminish completely. Staying awake on the balcony and crying all night long had left behind some obvious marks.

She could have taken advantage of the almost empty house—except for a snoring grampa in his room—but she chose otherwise. Because despite the comfort in this quiet there was an obvious downside to it too. The emptiness of the house soon started to make her thoughts echo about louder with each passing second, they had no destination to reach, they were to just surround her and stab painfully every now and then.

And so Sofia decided that going to the diner and keeping busy like hell would be a far better option.

Getting ready for work seemed like a hellish chore. Her limbs refused to move, they felt like were made of lead. But somehow, she managed to take a shower, and put on an off-white gypsy skirt that flared about her legs with a matching silvery top to go with it. She dried and combed and tied up her hair into a low bun.

It was her trying to recover some semblance through dressing up a bit. Or she was just humoring herself.

Absentmindedly then, when she looked up at her own face in the mirror, despite looking quite collected now—it still seemed to her that her very soul was lost in a matter of a night.

Max's friendship was that much exceptional to her. This was the reason why she had run from it during one rough period of her life and had found herself shattering when she tried to futilely retrieve it now.

Sofia sighed when her phone rang. She checked the caller ID to find it was Skyler. Skyler's bubbling excitement as she described how much fun she was having died down catching the hidden pain in Sofia's tone despite how cheerily she talked. She had to excuse it as a sore throat and a little fever—which wasn't completely a lie as she felt like she was truly coming down with something. However, Sofia could tell that although Skyler quieted down hearing the excuses, she was still not convinced enough.

It was frustrating how miserably she was failing to conceal her inner turmoil.

Minutes after ending her excuses-filled conversation with Skyler, Sofia's phone rang again. It was Simmy saying that there'd been a little accident over at the diner and five plates and a couple of glasses now laid in pieces on the kitchen floor.

At the speed of a storm, Sofia ran out of the house.

Damn, she was so going to be tight on money this month. With most of the profit going into bills and to amend these little damages—not much would be left in her hand. And then there were Skyler and Sam's school fees, their pocket money. Grampa needed to visit an allergy specialist who was recommended by his doctor.

Money isn't everything in life but to take care of everything in life it is a necessary element.

For a couple of days since then, Sofia became a flurry of activities.

She avoided lengthy talks with grampa, Skyler, and even Sam because all of them seemed somewhat suspicious—more because of her reluctance in speaking in detail about the reunion party or Max. She herself was getting quite tired of pretending that everything was alright, that she hadn't transformed into a giant ball of melancholy after that night of the party.

Also, she found that Albert Hayden—her grampa—the retired advocate—still had his intelligence about as sharp as it had been during his younger days. No wonder, Max's father, Robert Wilder still often came over to discuss the most complicated cases in his firm.

So, she kept pretending as though she was not hurt, as though she was not getting eaten alive by the storm that had re-birthed inside her since the party—after realization soaked in that nothing could be amended, no matter what. Her past would always remain unwilted, and so would the consequences.

Max's hatred would be everlasting, and so would be her state of self-deprecation from now on.

"Sofia."

Sofia came to a dead stop near the main door hearing her grampa's voice calling out her name. Schooling a smile, she turned around.

"Grampa," She said jovially, "I have kept your tea in the vacuum flask, and your breakfast is also ready on the table—toast, eggs, and bacon this morning. Although, we may have to cut off eggs and bacon after visiting the allergy doc. I personally think you're getting those rashes from these foods only. But still, it's better to be confirmed."

Albert stared hard at her from the stairs. Sofia flinched nervously.

After a long minute, he spoke up finally, "Did something happen?"

Her smile faltered, but that was just for a second before she schooled it up again. Shaking her head furiously she answered, "No. What would happen?"

The cross question didn't seem to convince her grampa a bit.

He kept staring at her as if trying to have a look into her mind and read what her mouth was reluctant to disclose. Sometimes, Sofia felt so freaked out with the abilities her dear, wise, old man possessed.

At last, seeing Sofia squirming under his Eagle gaze, he mercifully nodded his head. A motion indicating that she was released.

And Sofia nearly flew out of the house.

She started her ancient white car fumbling frantically with the keys and stormed out into the busy streets.

Her mind drowsily spun while driving and she blinked to get her vision steady. This fever that had attacked her after the night of the party just refused to leave, the available medicines at home were proving to be useless. But this sickness somehow made her feel a little good. It was weird and freaky. But it was also true that the physical pain helped the pain in her heart a little bearable.

Sofia expected to drown herself in work the whole day, she had to keep working until she could not work anymore. That would keep the darkness at bay—darkness that now surrounded her and threatened to swallow her whole in absolute nothingness from where she could never return.

However, what she never expected was to find Neil outside her diner, holding a white hanky above his head to save himself from the glaring sun. He was squinting in her direction.

With a confused frown, she got out of the car, at the same time as Neil slowly jogged towards her with a small smile.

"Sofia." Neil came to a stop before her.

"Neil, what're you doing over here?" She asked.

"Obviously to see you, duh," he tried to be comical. "Also, I need to ask a favor from you and know that I can't take no for an answer," he announced with finality.

Sofia's brows furrowed further. "And... what is it about?"

"I'm going to throw a party, Sofia, in celebration of the first-ever case I've won all by myself."

Another Party.

Sofia had reasons—strong ones—to feel like she was done with parties in this lifetime.

The very mention of it now made her remember the hell she'd been through merely two days ago. What a torturous night that had been! They called it a reunion, huh?

Her heart constricted painfully and her stomach dropped at the memories. The darkness of pain, humiliation, and self-deprecation began raising its ugly head again.

She remembered the amount of bitterness she had witnessed in the cruel creature Max had transformed himself into.

Was it entirely her doing? It very well could be.

In an attempt to drive the glum thoughts away, Sofia shook her head.

"If you think I'm going to attend another party after what happened in the last one then you're clearly mistaken, Neil." Making herself quite clear she was about to then quickly walk past him to put an end to the subject altogether. But a frantic Neil scampered around her and once again stood blocking her way.

"No no no," Neil was indignant. "You're getting it wrong."

Sofia, who had her eyes set to the ground, shot her head up to look back at Neil in confusion.

Neil continued, "I want you to take the responsibility of catering for the party, you know—the food..." He trailed off meaningfully.

Sofia was about to protest, what if he was going to be there as well? She definitely didn't want to face him this soon—or ever again.

"But you already know that I don't cater such huge, high-profile parties, not yet at least."

"Then start doing it already. Promote yourself to a high-profile party caterer—deputy master-chef—Mufasa business-woman. Because I bloody hell know that you can if you just want to— really, really want to," Neil quickly interjected. "And I said I won't take no for an answer. And I'm not leaving until you say yes. It's your food at my party or no food at all. So don't give me that I-don't-cater-for-high-profile-parties shit, if you can manage cooking for those small birthday parties about the neighborhood then you can definitely cook up a storm in my party as well!"

Sofia was stunned for a second by Neil's speech.

She blinked and finally said, "I don't have that much tableware, in fact, I'm short on tableware for the diner itself."

"Then buy some."

"Turns out I'm short on cash too."

Neil let out a long breath. He rubbed his jaw, his pupils turned upward in deep thought. "How about I pay you in advance so that you can buy all the things you would need, what say?"

"You're being impossible." Sofia cupped her forehead in exhilaration. Because surely his offer made sense.

"You're being impossible." Sofia cupped her forehead in exhilaration. She just wanted to find an escape from this.

Neil stared at her for a long minute and it seemed as if he could understand what was going on in her mind.

"Max won't be there," he informed softly.

Saying nothing, Sofia lowered her head for a brief moment before looking up uneasily.

"I won't invite Max. After all, we both know how much he loves to ruin parties these days. The grumpy old git." Neil shrugged with a sullen face. "And anyways, dad will be taking him to a meeting. So that Max gets in touch with how we are handling one of our most pivotal cases." For some reason, Neil cringed at the last part.

Both Sofia and Neil knew that all of Robert's efforts might just go down the drain because Max wasn't even planning to stay.

"If," Sofia paused still looking a little unsure, "that's the case, then..."

"Yes?" Neil asked excitedly.

Sofia nodded.

And Neil pumped a fist into the air, whooping like a madman.

"To this day I've been in both your and my cousin's teams," Neil said later, before leaving. "I'm a trusted secret-keeper to both of you and I certainly don't pass words from one end to the other."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sofia asked.

"Because you've got some explaining to do about what exactly went wrong between you and Max—"

"It is better we don't dig old graves, Neil," Sofia cut in. "Explaining things might just shake awake the dead—open old wounds and all. It won't do anyone any good."

Neil looked down at her for a couple of stagnant seconds, Sofia didn't falter. Because she was still ashamed.

People can never really hand out pieces of their greatest pain easily, if they can then it is not probably that great at all.

And if digging up old wounds wouldn't even bring her back Max, then why should she even try?

The truth might never be a match to his hatred, after all.