Whispers of Ambition

Jane waited patiently in front of the airport exit. Her flight had arrived a little earlier than expected, so she assumed that her father might have been delayed, but the person who came to collect her was someone holding a little sign with her name on it.

— Sorry for the delay, Miss Donovan. — The Asian woman in the business suit spoke as she approached. — I looked for you inside, but you had already left

Not just because she was wearing a brooch with the Donovan family emblem on it, Jane also recognised the cautious, overly formal manner in which the servants in her house usually spoke.

Jane smiled as she came closer, trying to make her less tense. Many people had told her from a very young age that she had the smile of an angel.

— Don't worry about it, I left quickly because I wanted to get some air. It wasn not your fault.

The woman's shoulders slowly slumped. She tucked the nameplate she was holding under her arm to introduce herself:

— I am Hazel Smith, I will help you for now. Please, follow me.

Jane obeyed and the two walked together to the silver Mercedes parked a few metres away. Hazel opened the back door for her to get in and put her things in the boot of the car before sitting down in the driver's seat.

New York, the city where she had spent only a few days of her childhood, would now be the place where she would live from now on. Despite being her father's hometown, she had visited the place a few times during the holidays, but after joining the boarding school these visits were no longer possible.

Her father owned an up-and-coming liquor business, and even in a moving car, Jane recognised the affiliated bars and billboard advertisements. It was his dream alone, which he had consolidated without his parents' support and which was now receiving the prestige and attention he had always dreamed of.

Much of his father's success came from his partnerships and contracts, he knew that, but nothing took away his pride in having got where he was without his family's support. With his friends, he toasted and celebrated every contract he closed, bragging about his success while shouting his father's name and demanding that he recognise this victory from the grave.

Jane was surprised to receive a letter from him asking her to return immediately. Joceline's death was still fresh, which led her to think that he wanted her around to keep him company, but the reason explained in the letter was quite different.

Ever since Jane had been enrolled at the church boarding school in Italy, she had thought that her most likely future was to become a fairground girl. She didn't mind this too much, as she had always been more resigned to what happened to her than her older sister.

Even if she had any objections, they wouldn't be heard. She was only a child and her father was still responsible for her and would dictate her future as he saw fit.

In any case, she was dismissed from the convent. Her training to become a nun began just a few months before she had to move back to New York for reasons her father didn't fully clarify, but the passage from the Bible she followed most was the one that commanded honouring father and mother.

Remembering this, Jane also remembered her mother. She didn't have many memories of her, because when her mother disappeared on a trip she was still too young to remember anything, but she vaguely remembered a song that was sung to her while she slept.

Sometimes Jane even wondered if the reason she was sent to study abroad was because her face reminded him of the father of the wife he lost.

Joceline used to send letters to her younger sister every month, since in the convent novices weren't allowed to use technology. She claimed that her father always got strange around their mother's birthday and that he burned all her photos in a fit of rage.

Jane wiped her cheeks as she remembered her sister. Joceline had died just two months before their father had sent the letter to the convent. The weight of regret in her heart for not having been able to see her sister before her death still crushed Jane's chest.

Even though her trips to Italy to see her were more frequent than her father's, the last time the two met was two years before the car accident. Joceline sent several letters saying that she would explain her reasons for not being able to go when the two of them met in person, but she left before such a meeting could take place.

Jane still wondered what her sister wanted to tell her. She wondered if it had anything to do with why she was coming home that day, if it was good news or bad news

The pain of losing someone so important still hurt her. If she had the ability to go back in time and renounce the convent earlier, she would have done it. Guilt and regrets made it difficult to keep smiling whenever she remembered the chocolates Joceline had brought her the last time they met.

The taste was sweet, smooth. It was as if the chocolates were melting on her tongue while her sister waited anxiously to find out if Jane liked the present. Those chocolates would always remind her of Joceline.

Her luminous gaze, her soft voice and her gentle touch, full of comforting care. Missing every little detail that defined her made Jane's crying in the back seat of that car all the more heartbreaking.

As much as she tried to keep her tears down, going home and not being able to find her didn't seem right.