Chapter 002: Second Chances

Ada 

An elderly woman races past me, screaming that she needs help. Saying she can't swim. I turn my head to look at her, and hear her saying hysterically:

"HE'S IN THE POOL! SAMMY'S IN THE POOL! I CAN'T SWIM! SOMEONE, HELP!"

The pool isn't that far away from where I'm standing. I approach the edge of it, confused, and that's when I see it. A small figure lying at the very bottom of the pool, arms and legs flailing. I don't think twice. 

I dive into the pool, shoes and all, and swim to the very bottom to grab the drowning child. 

I'm still blowing air into the little boy's mouth when a crowd comes running toward me. 

He coughs, water spurting from his mouth, and I turn him on his side while patting his back. I'm trembling from head to toe, adrenaline surging through me. The older lady who was screaming for help gets on her knees next to me, crying, and shortly afterward, I hear the sound of heels clattering toward us before a blood-curdling scream fills the air. 

"Sammy!"

The woman in heels pushes everyone out of the way and sinks to her knees, scooping the boy named Sammy into her arms. Her mascara starts torn, and her cries become desperate. I register her face right away. Rebecca Loxley, the killer's first-born daughter. "My son!" she cries. "My boy! Someone call an ambulance! Sammy, baby? Talk to me. Talk to your Mommy."

"What happened?" a man asks, his loud, sharp voice cutting through the chaos—the same one that yelled at me not ten minutes ago. 

I'm still on my knees next to the wailing mother when the crowd parts for him and another man, the actor who's Rebecca's husband. I realize what's happening in a fraction of a second. The boy whose life I saved is Rebecca's son, my father's killer's only grandson. 

Hence, the nephew of the man who fired me moments ago. 

Those cruel blue eyes find me, and they sharpen right away. "What are you still doing here? What the hell happened here!? What have you done!?"

The older lady stands up, crying still, but she manages to grit out the whole story. She was watching Sammy—she's his babysitter, I learn—and he ran into the pool, for some reason. She doesn't know how to swim, so she ran in screaming for help. I was conveniently there when it happened, so I ended up saving the boy instead. 

While she's recounting the tale, paramedics rush toward us with a stretcher. I stand up, my legs shaky, and watch as the boy is taken from his mother's arms and placed on the stretcher after they make sure he's breathing and stable. I briefly wonder how they got here so quickly. Were they just around the corner? Do rich people have their own paramedics? Their own ambulance?

"This is the woman who saved my son's life?" the actor asks, walking toward me with his arm outstretched. His wide eyes are searching as his hand clasps mine. "Thank you. I cannot thank you enough for what you've done. Please, wait for me here."

"Mr. Manney," Mrs. Danes begins. She's standing right next to me now, with her hand on my shoulder still. The man looks her way vaguely, almost like he can barely register her voice. "I\m sorry to cut in at a time like this, but I would like to remind you that Mr. Loxley fired Miss Johnson a few moments ago."

My gaze shifts to Maximilian Loxley, the man who just fired me, briefly, and I see discomfort and shock written all over his face. His jaw is tight, and he doesn't intervene or even try to answer Mrs. Danes' query.  

He frowns and says, "Nonsense. Please, wait for me here."

After saying this, he follows his wife and the paramedics through the kitchen, and the rest of the employees stay behind, whispering and shocked by the events of the day. Maximilian Loxley keeps staring at me, and for a beat, I allow myself to stare back at him freely. Then, without a word, he turns on his heel and heads inside, disappearing from sight. 

Mrs. Danes squeezes my shoulder to grab my attention, and I turn my body to face her. "You saved that boy," she tells me, her voice thick with emotion. "Let's get you into a new change of clothes. You're soaked to the bone and will catch a cold in this state. Everyone, back to work, please! All is well."

I go back inside with her, and we head inside the changing room. She gestures at the uniform I just took off and says, "You'll have to put that on, I believe."

"Thanks," I whisper before I pull my sweater over my head.

She remains in the room, watching me as I change. Then, she says, "It's a gallant thing, what you did. I'm sure Mr. Manney will be lenient with you and will give you a second chance, if you still want it."

I halt, deciding to pay full attention to what she's saying. I realize that I'm not even holding the knife anymore. It's probably at the bottom of the pool. I must have dropped it when I dove in to rescue the boy. 

I was going to kill Reynold Loxley, my father's killer. If I hadn't come across his grandson drowning, he would've been dead by now, if I'd succeeded in heading upstairs to finish the job. This realization makes me feel colder than I already do, and I shiver. 

Now, I might be given a chance to work here again. 

"Yes, I'll take it," I tell her before throwing the uniform on. The material is warm compared to my skin. "I really need this job, Mrs. Danes."

"I'll put in a good word for you," she tells me. "I'm sure you're good at what you do. Everyone deserves a second chance."

Her kind words touch a part of me, and I nod at her and say, "Thank you."

"I'll call you when Mr. Manney arrives," she claims before she grabs my wet clothes. "Wait here, please."

With that, she leaves, and I'm left alone in the huge changing room. I sit with my hands clasped together, shivering. 

I was about to commit an atrocity if this incident hadn't stopped me. Such is the extent of my rage. But I don't regret saving the boy, even if it means that I might have missed my only chance to exact revenge on Reynold Loxley. 

I'm sure of this. 

For years, I've suffered miserably. After my father died, followed shortly afterward by my brother, something in me changed and hardened into stone. My father was a hustling businessman always looking for the next best deal, and when he'd found one, his competitor was Reynold Loxley, who was interested in buying the land as well. My father refused to let him buy it, despite the fact that Reynold offered him millions, and harsh words were exchanged between them because of this. 

Reynold threatened my father loudly, claiming he'd regret his decision, and that same night, he'd been shot dead on his way home. My brother Theo, who was eighteen when it happened, started looking into the matter and gathering evidence to have Reynold arrested. He decided to call Reynold Loxley and meet with him to confront him. A month after my father's shooting, he was killed too, only his body has never been recovered. 

We never even got to bury him. 

The police couldn't help us. They said they had no concrete evidence against the Loxleys, but Harry Port, my father's best friend who'd been with him during the shooting and got shot himself, claimed that it's because of Reynold's influence. Those police officers and even the detective were in his pocket. 

I learned a long time ago that if you want justice, you'll have to grab it with both hands, which is exactly what I'm doing. 

I won't stop until that man pays for what he did to my family. I'll sit here and wait for that second chance. If I'm not given one, I'll plan again. That's what I do. Planning is what got me this far.

The day comes to an end, and Mrs. Danes walks into the changing room while shaking her head. She hands me my clothes back. They're dry. She tells me, "Mr. Manney still isn't back and he hasn't sent word. Please, come back tomorrow. I'm sure that when he's calmer, he'll remember to have a word with you."

Yes, tomorrow. I won't give up as long as there is still tomorrow.