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Chapter 33
Chapter 33
The people who needed a piece of her mind got it, and Cynthia was done being mad. She left them with a last bit of advice, “Keep it real, and don’t go looking for trouble, or it’s gonna bite you back.” With that, she followed Darian out.
In the car, Darian peeked at her in the rearview mirror, looking confused. “Mrs. Sullivan, they talked trash right to your face. How come you let that slide?”
Cynthia smiled to herself, staring out the window, “Trust me, they got what they deserved. No point in making a big deal out of it now.”
“But they don’t seem like they’ve learned anything.”
That comment made Cynthia’s gaze sharpen as she looked forwards. “My kindness doesn’t come in unlimited
supply.”
At the police station, the officers wouldn’t let anyone go without Liam’s thumbs up. Roseanne, who couldn’t stand being there any longer, practically sprinted out the door. She caught a glimpse of Cynthia’s car turning a corner and was so mad, she could’ve stomped a hole in the pavement.
Back to the Larson residence, Felicia filled Roseanne in on all the recent drama and their game plan. A few minutes later, Roseanne had cooled off a bit. “I can’t get over that bitch’s luck, snagging a spot in the Sullivan family.”
But Felicia was all sass. “Please, that bumpkin’s dreaming if she thinks she’s gonna be Mrs. Sullivan for long.”
Roseanne’s eyes lit up. “So Mom, what’s our play?”
“Just wait a few days. It’s her mom’s memorial soon, and she’s gonna be back with Liam. That’s our chance to stir things up…” They leaned in close, cooking up their secret plans.
After Cynthia hit home at Regalian Garden, her phone buzzed as she was about to head upstairs. She expected Liam, but then saw it was an international number. Pressing ‘answer,‘ she heard a voice that got on her nerves. “Cynthia, it’s been ages! You’ve straight–up ghosted your senior and masters, huh?” She recognized her senior, Hallet’s voice and rolled her eyes. “Hallet, you gonna act your age or what?”
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Cynthia let out a sigh. Hallet was a good–looking guy with a wild side. The only time he wasn’t causing trouble was when he was buried in his lab work. “Okay, so what’s the deal now?”
“It’s your masters–they’re going at it again. Master Garten mixed up some wild poison and Master Buckley took forever to realize he missed a key herb. That herb’s super rare but word has it, it’s gonna be at an auction in Clusia. Both masters are out of commission, being total kids about it, so I’m stuck here. We need you to score that herb,
Cynthia.”
Cynthia had a headache creeping up on her. Her two mentors–one’s magic was all about healing, and the other loved making crazy poisons–never got along and were super competitive. They often tested their mixes on her, which once left her feeling sick for an entire month. She had no choice but to deal with it and just said, “Send me the photo of what you need.”
“You bet!” The other end of the line got all pumped, and then the call ended.
When the picture popped up on her phone, Cynthia nearly choked on her drink. This wasn’t just any medicine pickup; this was big. They were after the Crystal Snow Grass, which was found way up on some super high mountain. With it being rare and only growing every 20 years, even a tiny piece cost a fortune–like, 3 million dollars. Cynthia was flat broke. She had saved a lot but it all went to helping her masters or got lost in a bad bet.
“How am I supposed to find that kind of money on short notice?” While she mulled it over, Liam called.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Just daydreaming,” Cynthia said, not too thrilled.
“I fly back after tomorrow. Remember to come get me.”
Before she knew it, Cynthia snapped, “Why should I play taxi? You have a car!”
There was a weird silence, and Liam finally said, “Why the attitude?”
Realizing she was too harsh, Cynthia switched gears. “My bad. When’s your flight land?”
Liam seemed too busy to care about her mood and quickly said, “There’s a big charity auction the night I come
back. You’re coming with me. Chill at home till then, okay? Don’t stress, and we’ll sort things out when I’m there.”
“Sure thing.”
“That’s my girl.”
After they hung up, Cynthia realized the charity auction could be her chance. She booted up her computer and looked up the event. Sure enough, the Crystal Snow Grass was up for grabs. She took note of the date and time.
For the next couple of days, Cynthia holed up in her room, working non–stop on her jewelry designs. She created a total of five preliminary designs and picked the one she was most satisfied with to send to the organizers of this big jewelry contest that was coming up. It was one of those contests where everything was anonymous and one had to create right on the spot. Cynthia knew she could rock it, but with some serious prizes, there would be loads of pros. She left nothing to chance. With the “esigns out of the way, she had to figure out how to get the money the charity auction. Bidding wars could send prices sky–high–if someone else was eyeing the same piece, they’d end up jacking up the price against each other and she was running out of time.
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Cynthia fired up her old computer, logged into this sketchy site that was like a home for hackers. Looking for a quick cash grab, she stumbled upon this underground fighting competition ad. The winner would snatch 5 million dollars. She jotted down where it was, changed into her fighting gear, and booked it.
The match was set in this run–down factory on the edges of town. The place was jumping when Cynthia got there, with some rough types checking everyone at the door. She whispered the secret password, got a mask, and went in. In this world, nobody wanted anyone else to know who they were. Loud music was pounding inside, and folks were all over wearing weird clothes, puffing on
cigars, and talking trash. Cynthia was grossed out but kept her cool. A fight was already going down on the stage. It was a survival–of–the–fittest kind of battle, where the last one standing took the prize. These fights never played fair–folks who fought early had it rough–but fairness wasn’t exactly what these underground brawls were famous for.