Dancing with Time

Protectors

'I hope we are friends until we die. Then I hope we stay ghost friends and walk through walls and scare the shit out of people.' - Annonymous.

"Don't you dare!" Jeremy's voice boomed, echoing through the tense air of the Wagner residence. The scent of stale coffee hung heavy, a testament to a sleepless night. "This isn't some medieval barter, Dad! You can't just sell off your daughter!"

His words struck James like a physical blow. The once-proud businessman slumped in his chair, his face etched with exhaustion and despair. Maryanne's absence loomed enormous, a suffocating silence where her calming presence used to be, and five months in a coma had drained the life out of their entire family.

"There was no another way, Jeremy," James pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Believe me, I do not like it either." A weary resignation had replaced the defiance that once colored his features.

Jeremy scoffed. His ordinarily calm demeanor had morphed into a storm of protectiveness. Juliet, his cherished sister, the only girl born into generations of Wagner sons, was caught in the crossfire. "Anything is better than marrying some stranger, Dad! What do you even know about this guy?"

Their conversation devolved into a heated back-and-forth, neither willing to budge. Jeremy, fueled by righteous anger, refused to see reason. James, burdened by the weight of responsibility, could only offer justifications that were disregarded.

"Letting your mother die is not better, Jeremy!" James roared, his voice cracking. "It's about keeping this family together!" A tremor ran through his hand, betraying the fear simmering beneath the surface.

"Enough!" Genevieve, the housekeeper who had become a silent pillar in their lives, interjected before the argument could escalate further. Her sixty-five years held the wisdom of countless storms weathered. "James, why don't you freshen up? There'll be coffee waiting." She cast him a look heavy with maternal concern.

James stole a glance at his fuming son. The fight drained him, and he knew forcing a resolution wouldn't help. Jeremy needed time to cool down. With a defeated sigh, he rose and shuffled towards the stairs.

The commotion jolted Juliet awake. Unlike her, Jeremy was usually the voice of reason. But when it came to his sister, logic took a back seat. Jeremy had always been fiercely protective, a lion shielding his cub.

She glanced at the clock – 9:24 AM. The memory of her conversation with her father repeated in her mind. She felt trapped, like a fly caught in a spider's web. The sterile hospital room, the doctor's grim prognosis – a mere seven percent chance her mother would wake up – mirrored the suffocating reality they now faced.

Juliet wouldn't argue with her father or brother. They'd find their way, eventually. But a potent cocktail of anger at the situation and hurt at being reduced to a bargaining chip simmered within her. This wasn't some fairy tale where a princess was bartered for a kingdom; this was her life, and she had no say in it.

A shrill ring pierced the tense silence. It was Abigail, a whirlwind of chaos and sunshine in a phone call. Juliet could practically hear her friend's infectious laugh bubbling through the receiver.

"Juliet! You're free all week! Take a road trip to Pennsylvania! Allegheny National Forest! We're going hiking, girl!" Abigail's enthusiasm was a stark contrast to the turmoil in Juliet's heart.

On any other day, Juliet might have playfully scolded Abigail for the phone assault. Today, the escape was a godsend. Away from the suffocating contract, away from the unknown 'husband,' away from the guilt that gnawed at her, Juliet desperately craved a break.