CHAPTER FIVE

Felicia's joyous squeal filled the room as she enveloped Tina in a warm hug in the excitement of the moment. However, the elation was short-lived as she released her grip, urgency abruptly taking over. "We have no time," Felicia declared, her tone serious, she rushed to the door and swiftly click the lock shut.

"Take off your clothes," she ordered, a command met with a compliant action from Tina. The wedding gown's bodice was swiftly discarded, and with careful precision, Tina assisted Felicia in slipping out of the intricate garment. Buttons and zippers were undone carefully ensuring the dress suffered no damage in their haste leaving Felicia in nothing but her underwear.

Just as Felicia was assisting Tina into the dress, a resounding knock echoed at the door. "Felicia dear, open up," her mother's voice, tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern, resonated through the door. Their heart dropped in terror causing a shiver down their spines. "Coming, mother," Felicia yelled, her tone betraying her trepidation.

Hastening their efforts, Felicia made the necessary adjustments to the dress on Tina , fitting it snugly in all the right places. "We'll be late, Felicia. Open the door now," her mother's urgent command emphasized the pressing nature of their situation. Felicia cursed under her breath, feeling the seconds slip away like sand through her fingers.

"Don't tell me you're backing out of this now," her mother inquired her voice laced with concern and perhaps a touch of impatience, continued to echo through the door, and was met with an unnerving silence from Felicia.

Seating Tina on a chair, Felicia quickly brushed on a bit of makeup, adding the finishing touches to their hurried swap. "Felicia, open this door now!" The firmness in her mother's command intensified, creating a sense of urgency that bordered on desperation.

"Geez, Mom, I'm just trying to get my nerves under control. I'll be out in twenty minutes," Felicia shouted back, attempting to buy time.

"Twenty minutes? We're already running late as it is. You can calm your nerves on the way," her mother retorted. Felicia tossed Tina her shoes, and as they finalized their preparations, their attention turned to Tina's hair, the last obstacle in their race against time.

Tina's distinct black hair. If left unattended, her mother would undoubtedly notice. In a flash of recollection, Felicia remembered a wig she had purchased months ago. Though not an exact match in color, its deeper shade closely resembled Tina's natural hair.

She trodded briskly to her walk-in closet, Felicia retrieved the wig and deftly placed it on Tina's head. With quick adjustments, she ensured it sat perfectly. Next , she gathered Tina's strands and skillfully pulled them into the neatest bun she could manage. 

In a swift move, Felicia removed all the hairpins from her own hair, strategically transferring them to Tina's, completing the hairdo. A wave of relief washed over them, knowing they had successfully averted a potential obstacle to her plans.

"This won't do; I'm calling Julius to break down your door, Felicia, if you don't come out now," her mother sternly declared.

"A few more minutes, Mother. The wedding isn't going anywhere," Felicia responded shakily. She glanced at Tina, who had been anxiously and silently perched like a duck awaiting its fate. Tina's face was etched with worry, seeking reassurance from Felicia.

She offered Tina a small smile and squeezed her hand in assurance, "Something is missing." She suddenly muttered. She scanned the room and Her eyes caught sight of the veil on the bed, and with brisk steps, she retrieved it. Meanwhile, a loud thud echoed against her door that made her heart stop momentarily. "Shit," she muttered, hastily placing the veil on Tina. Another forceful impact reverberated through the door.

"Keep your head down and don't say a word," Felicia instructed Tina as she moved away just before the door threatened to give way. "Thank you," she whispered, pulling Tina into a one-sided hug while handing her the bouquet. Another bang echoed, and the hinges on the door flew off.

She ran into her closet and locked it as if her life depended on it.

Moments later, the silence that followed the thunderous crash of her door breaking open was abruptly shattered by the rapid rhythm of approaching footsteps. The voice of her mother sliced through the air, laden with concern and impatience. "Felicia, are you okay? Why didn't you open up? There's no time for this!" Her mother stated interrupting her own barrage of question. "We need to go now; your father has been calling," she declared, the urgency escalating with each word.

Without hesitation, Felicia's mother seized Tina and semi dragged her out carefully sidestepping the door.

Felicia strained to hear the fading footsteps, a knot of tension tightening in her chest. The seconds ticked by like an eternity as she waited, her ears tuned to the diminishing sounds of footsteps . Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

Once she felt reasonably sure that they had distanced themselves from the immediate vicinity, Felicia moved with caution. The door slowly creaked open. She peeked around her room, Satisfied that no soul was in sight, she released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

The room now stood silent and empty, the remnants of the broken door casting long shadows. The brief respite allowed Felicia to collect herself, knowing that the storm outside had only momentarily abated. In the stillness, she could almost hear the echo of her own heartbeat.

Stepping onto the balcony, she surveyed the compound with a keen eye, ensuring that no other cars lingered except for hers. Pulling the curtain aside just enough, she squinted against the sunlight, a touch of anxiety still gripping her. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she quickly moved into action.

Ransacking her closet, she snatched her travel bag with a urgency that mirrored the ticking clock. Clothes, socks, and underwear were unceremoniously tossed in, Zipping up the bag proved to be a battle, the overstuffed contents resisting the closure with a loud huff she managed to close it.

Her search for her passport was a frantic one, drawers and cabinets opening and closing in a flurry of desperation until she finally clutched the document in her hand. With a sigh of relief, she wasted no time and booked herself a plane ticket, the destination: Venice.

 She opted for a pair of grey joggers, a practical choice should the need to run arise. A loosely-fitted black polo shirt completed her hastily assembled ensemble. In her haste, she grabbed a face cap and put it on.

With the urgency of time pressing down, she hoisted the packed bag over her shoulder, her purse clutched tightly in her other hand. She deliberately dropped her car key onto the floor, the metallic clink resonating with finality.

The door closed behind her with a determined thud, sealing the weight of her decision.