Step by Step Sin by Sin

Sasha’s POV

I could not believe that my mother’s entire life had been reduced to the contents in the cardboard boxes in my hands. It felt cheap, fitting everything about my sweet mom in three cheap containers from the grocery store. I sat cross-legged on her room floor, surrounded by the smell of her floral perfume that still clung to everything in our small blue coloured, dilapidated single apartment , and at that moment I tried not to fall apart completely.

The cancer had taken her piece by piece over six months. Time was rushed. I didn’t feel like it was enough to say goodbye properly and to embrace the fact that she would never be with me. The cancer had started eating her hair, then her appetite, then her laugh. By the end, she was just a shadow of the woman who used to get up every morning to make breakfast for me and make sure that I was full. The woman who worked three tiring jobs to keep our tiny apartment in Jacobsburg.

But sometimes I wondered if it was the best thing to happen to her. She suffered too much during the sickness and even before the sickness. We always lived from hand to mouth, never even having the decency of having relatives around to help us. We were all alone in this world, and perhaps death was a consolation to her spirit. Maybe she needed to leave this cruel world to have eternal rest

"Focus, Sasha," I whispered to myself, using the same voice Mom used when she was trying to make sure that I do not get bothered by our situation. "Just pack the important stuff, Mr Richard Muller will soon come to throw you out. You have to be ready"

But what was important when your whole world had just ended? The photos of us at my high school graduation three months ago, when she was still fighting and still believed she'd see me graduate college? Her collection of romance novels with the worn covers? Or her already faded jewellery collection made of alloy and copper?

I picked up a framed photo of us from Christmas. Mom looked so thin already, but she was smiling that brilliant smile that made all the neighbours love her. They loved her, yet they couldn’t help her daughter who was at the verge of becoming homeless? I sighed, adjusting my position on the ground. Those neighbours that she used to give apple pie, pancakes and fresh juice even when she had nothing… all of them had abandoned me. Not even one of them had the decency to remember the kindness of my mother.

"Mama, I need you…" I pushed the tears back in

But I heard footsteps close to my door and I dreaded what would come next.

Mr. Richard Muller, our landlord, had been calling for five days about the overdue rent. Mother had not even settled six feet down the ground and he was already roaring like a hungry lion. I'd been avoiding him, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he showed up.

I quickly grabbed Mom's jewelry box, a few things I deemed important and shoved it into the cardboard box. I was going to lift something else when I saw a box- the one Mom had always warned me never to open. Well, she was dead now and I guess her death was permission for me to open the box

It was a wooden box with cranky metal hinges that made rusty sounds when I lifted the cover up. Hidden inside the box were things I'd never seen before. Photos. Letters. And a white browning envelope with my name written on it in Mom's handwriting.

Curiously, I pulled out the first photo. It was a picture of my mother when she was young. She looked maybe nineteen or twenty, I don’t know, but next to her was a man I didn’t recognize. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair, bright eyes and a really nice smile. They looked like they were in love with eachother

There were more photos of them together. At a college party. On a beach somewhere. In a fancy restaurant that we never could have afforded. In every single one, Mom looked like a different person. Not the tired single mother who worked herself to the bone, but a young woman living her best life. She looked so happy and I began to wonder who the man was and why she kept those pictures so dearly

The pounding on the front door started. "Sasha! I know you're in there! Rent was due five days ago!"

I ignored Mr. Richard and reached for the letters. There were dozens of them, all addressed to the same person but never sent. The name on each envelope made my my eyes widen sharply

James Gates.

I knew that name. Everyone in America knew that name. James Gates, the business tycoon who owned half of Houston's real estate. The man whose face appeared on magazine covers and business news shows. One of the richest men in the country. Perhaps this is another James Gates, people bear the same name all the time

I started to read the first letter.

Dear James,

I need to tell you about Sasha. Our daughter. She's three years old now and she looks so much like you. She asks about her daddy every single day. I know I left without saying anything, but James, I'm struggling. I am barely keeping us afloat.

I'm not asking you to be her father. I know you have your own life, your own family. But maybe you could just help us a little? Please? About how I left, it was a lot and I don’t even know where to start

I still love you. I know I am to blame, but I didn’t have a choice.

Forever yours, Seline

Confused and curious, I proceeded to quickly unfold another envelope in the heap of papers. It was a bad certificate. It had my name, Sasha Hunters. Mother’s name was Seline Hunters and Father’s name, James Gates

My heart started to race. What if it the James Gates who is my father? But how!?