#viola02

Where: The Bianchi Estate |  When: December 11th | Two hrs before the Funeral

“Fuck!” Hands rifled through the half-empty closet in her room, Leyla could’ve sworn she put her suit in there. Yet with each sweep of hangers and old tshirts, the black garment was nowhere to be seen. Of course her lucky stars had to get crossed today... as if they all didn’t have enough on their plate. Most of Leyla’s life was now stuffed into her tiny apartment in Brooklyn, her room at the mansion preserved in its high school state- prom photos, clothes she’d outgrown, old music posters . This must’ve been the first time she’d stayed longer than two days... “Anne-” The Turkish left her lips with ease as she moved through the hall like a hurricane. “Blazerimi gördün mü!”

Leyla was just about to whip around the staircase when she nearly ran into someone. Viola. For the first time since their explosive fight, the two sisters were face to face... “Oh, you’re up...” Could she say anything more awkward? Truth be told, Leyla had been dreading the moment she saw Viola again. Especially today. It was only a few hours until they buried their father. “I.. you haven’t seen my suit, have you?”