Chapter 1 An Invitation（1）

• "Hey, girl! What are you doing here?!" shouted a man in the distance as he approached. Isabella turned around, surprised. "Didn't I tell you not to come back?!" the man shouted, now just a few steps away from her.
• "I-I'm sorry... I just came for the mail," she stammered nervously, feeling a bit scared.
• "For the mail?!" The man looked her up and down, noticing some envelopes in her hands.
• "I don't know why you bother; those are probably just payment demands and more unpaid bills," the man growled. Isabella didn't respond. She just clenched the papers in her hands, with a sad expression.
• "Fine! You have your mail now, and since the bank officially owns this house, it won't be coming here anymore, so don't bother coming back..." The man looked around, noticing some people on the street who had stopped to watch them.
• "Now go! With that homeless look of yours, you're scaring off potential buyers for this house; they might think this area is full of beggars," the man muttered, his jaw clenched, looking at Isabella with disdain.
• The girl grabbed her small suitcase, containing the four changes of clothes she had left, which was all she had, and returned to the shelter for the needy where she had been living for the past few days.
• Just a few weeks ago, that house from which the man had kicked her out was her home, the place where Isabella had grown up. However, now it belongs to the bank. All her things, both the house and her belongings, had been confiscated due to the huge amount of debt she had incurred from the expenses of her mother's illness, who had recently passed away.
• Isabella entered the huge, old building full of small rooms and quickly walked to the tiny room where she had been living for the past few days. She locked the door and sat on the cot where she slept, looking around and sighing heavily. This was now the only roof over her head, and although it wasn't easy to live in that shelter, as she shared it with a bunch of strangers, many of whom were criminals and ill-intentioned people who had already tried to rob and abuse her on a couple of occasions, she was still grateful to have a roof over her head and not have to sleep out in the open, as she had done before.
• The young woman tucked her bag under her bed; she had gotten used to carrying it everywhere, as her roommate, Jade, had recommended to prevent her things from being stolen. Jade was another homeless girl who had been in the shelter much longer than Isabella and knew the survival rules of the place better.
• Jade had become friends with Isabella in the few days they had been living together, so it was easy for Isabella to deduce that if she wasn't in the room, she had probably gone out to get some money or food, begging on the streets. So, Isabella took advantage of her moment of solitude and privacy to go through the correspondence she had brought from her home, a last reminder of her old life.
• With tears of anger and helplessness, Isabella confirmed that what the man from the bank who had kicked her out of the house had said was true. All the envelopes were filled with unpaid bills and final notices. The young woman crumpled each of the papers, crying all the while. Why had life been so hard on her? Why did she have to lose her mother and be left alone, with nothing, when she had tried to be a good girl, a good person her whole life?
• Isabella kept asking herself those questions while, with frustration, she continued tearing up the rest of the unopened correspondence. One by one, she shredded each letter, and just as she reached the last one, as she took it in her hands, lifting the envelope, ready to tear it in two, something caught her attention.
• The paper was different from the others; it was thinner and not addressed to her mother, like the rest of the correspondence. This envelope had her name on it; it was addressed to her, Isabella Sinclair.
• Puzzled, Isabella read the sender's name. Margaret de Sinclair had sent her that letter, and the young woman knew who it was, as that was her paternal grandmother's name. A strong hunch invaded her; the tears and anger began to diminish and be replaced by curiosity. Quickly, Isabella opened the envelope and began to read the letter inside.
• ‘Dear Miss Isabella Sinclair,
• Receive a warm greeting from the entire Sinclair family.
• Through this letter, we are pleased to invite you to our next family gathering, which will take place on a two-week cruise starting on the fifteenth of March of this year, and will depart at ten in the morning.
• We hope you will make all necessary arrangements to attend; it would be a special pleasure to have you there.
• Without further ado, we thank you for your attention.
• Sincerely, Margaret de Sinclair’
• Isabella was completely stunned, and she tried to make sense of the situation.
• For as far as the young woman knew that her father had been banished from the prestigious Sinclair lineage for many years, and today, they sent her an invitation to a family gathering?