The engine of Mona's car hummed a steady rhythm against the pavement, a stark contrast to the heavy, suffocating silence that had settled between the two women since they passed the prison gates. Cherry stared out the window, the image of her father's trembling fingers pressed against the glass burned into her retinas.
"He looked... smaller," Cherry finally whispered, her voice cracking. "And those bruises. Someone is hurting him in there, Mona."
Mona sighed, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. She hadn't missed the way Cherry's father had flinched when the guard approached. "Jail isn't a country club, Cher. Especially for someone who's been off the grid as long as he was. But you did the right thing. You didn't let him hide behind the 'dear old dad' act."
"I hung up on him," Cherry said, a mix of guilt and newfound power swirling in her chest. "He was still talking, his mouth was moving, and I just... I dropped the phone. I told him I was done waiting for him to be a bigger person."
Mona glanced at her, her dark wig casting a shadow over her sharp features. "That's called setting a boundary. You've spent eighteen years being his daughter; it's time he started being your father. If he wants your time, he owes you the truth."
As they crested the hill toward the town center, the neon lights of the famous restaurant they'd visited earlier flickered in the distance.
"You think Alfred was still there?" Cherry asked, trying to shift the heavy atmosphere. "He looked like he was ready to buy the whole building just to get you to stay for a drink."
Mona let out a dry, short laugh. "Alfred is a billionaire with a savior complex and a very loud mouth. Mentioning our... personal history in the middle of a crowded restaurant? That's not 'charming,' Cherry. That's a red flag."
"But he cares about you," Cherry insisted, reaching for the bag of doughnuts. She pulled one out, the sugar coating her fingertips. "He even asked about me. He called me 'that little girl.' He thinks you're doing a great job."
"I don't need a CEO's validation to know I'm doing right by you," Mona countered, though her expression softened. "And as for the 'billionaire' thing? I have my own badge, my own paycheck, and my own peace of mind. I'm not trading that for a diamond ring and a guy who can't take a hint."
Preparing for Travis
They pulled up to the house, the evening air beginning to cool. Cherry felt a sudden rush of anxiety. Tomorrow was Thursday—the date with Travis. The Marvel movie.
"Mona? What if Travis really does just want to be best friends?" Cherry asked as she climbed out of the car, clutching the takeout container of her father's untouched food—now a cold reminder of a failed visit. "He saved my life, but... maybe that's all it was to him. A rescue mission."
Mona killed the ignition and looked Cherry dead in the eye. "Listen to me. A guy doesn't take a girl to a Marvel movie on a Thursday night just because he likes her personality. He saved you because he couldn't imagine a world without you in it."
"You really think so?"
"I'm a detective, remember? I look at the evidence," Mona winked, reaching into the back to grab her bags. "Now, go inside. Shower off the smell of that visitor's room. You've got a date to get ready for, and I've got some 'detective work' to do on who exactly gave your father that black eye."
Cherry nodded, a small spark of hope finally dulling the ache of the afternoon. She walked toward the front door, already thinking about the high ponytail and the sophisticated look she'd mastered earlier. Tomorrow wouldn't be about the past or the prison—it would be about Travis.
The neon lights of the cinema hummed, casting a vibrant, artificial glow over the bustling lobby. Thursday had arrived, and with it, a shift in the air that felt nothing like the stale, heavy atmosphere of the prison.
Cherry stood near the ticket booth, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She had stuck to the sophisticated look Mona admired—the beige trench coat draped over her shoulders, her hair pulled into that flawless high ponytail that made her feel more like a leading lady than a girl who had spent a lifetime on the run.
"You look... wow, Cherry. You look incredible," a voice broke through her nerves.
She turned to find Travis. He wasn't in a suit or anything formal, but the way his simple dark jacket fit his shoulders and the genuine, slightly stunned look in his eyes made her breath hitch.
The smell of buttery popcorn and the muffled sounds of trailers filled the space as they found their seats. The darkness of the theater provided a safe haven, a small bubble where the rest of the world—the detectives, the CEOs, and the men in orange jumpsuits—couldn't reach them.
"I wasn't sure if you'd still want to come," Travis whispered as he handed her a large soda. "I know today was... a lot. With your dad."
Cherry looked at him, her eyes softening in the dim light. "I needed this, Travis. I needed to be somewhere where nobody is asking me for the truth or hiding secrets. I just wanted to see a superhero save the day for once."
"Well," Travis leaned in a bit closer, his shoulder brushing hers. "The movie is two and a half hours. For the next 150 minutes, the only thing you have to worry about is whether or not the Avengers win."
As the movie played, the loud explosions and orchestral swells filled the room, but Cherry found herself more aware of the inches of space between her hand and Travis's on the armrest. She remembered Mona's words: 'He saved you because he couldn't imagine a world without you in it.'
Halfway through the film, during a quiet, emotional scene on screen, Travis shifted. Slowly, tentatively, he slid his hand over hers. His palm was warm, grounding her in a way she hadn't felt in years.
Cherry didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her hand over, interlacing her fingers with his.
"Cherry?" he murmured, leaning his head toward hers so his breath tickled her ear.
"Yeah?"
"I know I'm the 'best friend.' I know I'm the guy who was just there at the right time. But seeing you today... seeing how strong you were after that visit... I don't want to be just the guy who saved you. I want to be the guy who stays."
Cherry felt a flush creep up her neck that had nothing to do with the theater's heating. The sophisticated mask she'd put on earlier began to slip, revealing the girl underneath who was finally allowed to be happy.
"You're not just a best friend, Travis," she whispered back, squeezing his hand. "You're the only person who makes me feel like I don't have to look over my shoulder anymore."
The screen flickered with a bright blue light, illuminating the smile on Travis's face. For the first time since she could remember, Cherry wasn't thinking about her father's bruises or Mona's secrets. She was just a girl at the movies, holding the hand of the boy who had seen her at her worst and decided she was worth everything.