CHAPTER FOUR

Sasha loved the night. Night was sexy, mysterious and dangerous. Just like her. She breathed in the New York City air. She felt liberated, completely in control of her destiny.

She walked to the subway entrance and descended into its humid depths. She could feel eyes on her as she passed the faceless bystanders. Stupid bastards, she thought with disgust. They wouldn't know power if it stripped naked in front of their very eyes. This was power. I am power.

She perched carelessly on a bench, her skirt affording a free view to any and all who cared to look. She felt a stirring at the base of her neck and slowly glanced behind her. An older woman, clutching her shopping bags from Nordstroms and Bloomingdale's, was eyeing her with unabashed disdain. Her perfectly coiffed blond hair shone in the dull light and her blue eyes were sharp.

"Whaddaya lookin' at?" she asked with full attitude. But her interest was piqued.

"You look like a lost soul," the woman said steadily. Sasha was surprised to hear her voice crackling with age.

"Yeah, and you would be the one to know," she snapped, diving into strategy. Sure enough, the woman took one fearful look around, ambled over to her and helped herself to a seat.

"You should be more careful, walking out of the house in that get- up," she said, eyeing her sternly. "It's a sick world out there, you know what I mean?"

Sasha gave her a thousand-watt smile. "I know exactly what you mean."

×××××××××

Olivia yelped in pain as she stubbed her toe against Serena's bed frame. The throbbing in her foot added to her mounting frustration. What, did she sell my shit or something, she thought angrily. She had gone over every square inch of her mother's room and couldn't come up with her missing items. She placed her hands on her hips, trying to determine her next move.

Giving up, she started to straighten up the mess she had created. Bending down to pick up a discarded pillow, she noticed that the mattress was slightly askew. Acting on a hunch, she lifted up the mattress and peered underneath.

Olivia immediately spotted a pack of cigarettes and three brightly packaged condoms. In a trance, she scooped up the items and stared at them, lost in thought. At least she was being careful, but cigarettes? When did her mother start smoking?

So deep in thought, Olivia didn't hear anyone enter the apartment, much less Serena come up behind her.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Serena asked in alarm, gripping her purse so tightly her knuckles were white. Olivia looked at her mother, frightened of the possibilities. Crap.

"When did you start smoking?" Olivia asked, still perplexed, but trying to divert her mother's attention. Serena, a mirror of confusion, spotted the items in her daughter's hands, and shook her head.

"I don't…what are you doing with those condoms?" Serena asked. "What are you doing going through my things?"

"You're stealing from me!" Olivia shouted, the cigarettes and condoms forgotten momentarily. "I let you live with me out of the goodness of my heart and you steal from me?"

Serena stood, stupefied. "Why would I steal condoms or cigarettes?" she whispered harshly. "Neither one of us smoke, and you haven't been laid since the '90s."

The jab sent Olivia over the edge. "STOP LYING!" she shouted. "I've had it with your sneaking, your lying, your stealing, I've had enough! Where is my jacket? My earrings? This stops now!"

Serena was startled by the intensity of Olivia's outburst. Wasn't she violating her privacy? Opening her mouth to protest, she thought better of it and stalked from the room. A moment later the apartment door slammed.

Olivia sank onto the skewed mattress, trembling with rage.