Kat sighed out the window of her mother’s black car. Her sigh was carried by the wind, through the fallen leavers, and into the tree tops. She was sighing because her life has been particularly boring recently. Her parent’s divorce had finally cooled down and everything in her life with her mother was alright. She had a steady stream of solid A’s, her piano lessons were going rather well, and her ballet and fencing practices were extraordinary. And yet, she couldn’t have wished for a more boring life. Everything about it bored her: Her old band house as she walked into it for the seven thousand, eight-hundred and forty-third time. Her bland lessons which she learned the same stuff over and over… and her annoying family.
As she walked through the small doorway of her very small house, (it was the only one they could afford after the divorce) her mother dropped her bags of bland clothes in surprise. Kat turned around, fearing the worst since her mother hadn’t slammed the door as per usual.
“Kat Saint, why didn’t you tell me about this?” She said slowly, drawing in her breaths carefully as if her life depended on it. She was holding a plain white envelope in her hand from their mailbox which, until recently only received bills and semi-important messages.
“Whatever do you mean, mother?” Kat chose her words carefully, trying her best not to offend her mother in a moment of very rare happiness.
“This—!” Her mother, Maisie, gestured wildly, throwing her already disheveled hair everywhere, to the piece of paper in her hand. It was a handwritten letter, which is very rare these days. It described how Kat had been accepted to a very special program that she had not actually applied for. This program was being hosted by Mikaela Powers, one of the most powerful people on the planet.
Maisie took a step towards her daughter and handed her the letter, her hand shaking with anticipation.
Kat frowned at the letter and tore it open. “I don’t know what this is.” Her frown deepened through her shallow dimples. “What’s this ‘Powers’s Internship’? I’ve never heard of it.” She looked to her mother with question but Maisie wasn’t there. She had a far away smile plastered on her face and her eyes were twinkling like she could see something Kat couldn’t.
“You’re going,” She whispered to her daughter. “No question about it. My daughter is going to be rich. My daughter. Not Susan Snootly’s. Mine.”
Kat knew better than to question her mother at a time like this. After all, her mother seemed to only have to buttons: ‘Don’t speak, look, or think of me’ and ‘I’m happy so don’t bother me’
Kat scowled at the letter. It may be stupid, but it was all it’s fault. Ciudad Del Río was a long ways away from home and a month was even longer. Why couldn’t she have just stayed with her father in New York? He wouldn’t send her all the way to some small, remote town, alone. Or would he? Everything had changed after the divorce.