Chapter 4 - Hope

Margot's POV

The world had never felt so void.

The email from hell, a rejection letter that could have carried my one way ticket out of here, now felt like it had been virtually ripped apart.

My chest ached, a deep, hollow feeling spreading through me as I tried to process the reality of what this meant for me.

What this meant for my friendship.

I wasn't going anywhere.

But Cara was.

She was leaving this place any minute now, and I was staying here, stuck in the same town I'd spent years longing to escape from.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay composed even as the weight of it all pressed down on me.

I started to blame myself for doubting the whole idea, now believing that I had helped play a part in its failure...

The cold wind bit at my skin as we sat on the worn-down benches of the empty park, the same place we had spent countless afternoons dreaming of the day we would leave here together.

But now, it was just going to be her.

I looked over at Cara, who was staring at the papers in her hands, her brows furrowed in a look of confusion. She held the sheets up, flipping between them, her eyes scanning the texts frantically.

"This doesn't make any sense," she muttered out.

"What doesn't?" My voice came out hoarse, lifeless, but I didn't even care.

What was the point?

Cara's lips pressed out into a thin line. "Why is your email so long, it's printed out on two pages instead of one?" She turned the pages over again. "Mine was only one page, but yours — yours printed on two?"

I barely acknowledged her words, my mind stuck in an endless loop of everything I had just lost.

I would have to wake up tomorrow and pretend like none of this mattered. I would have to walk past the same old buildings, endure the same old stares, live the same old life.

Alone.

I would have to do it all without her now.

How was I supposed to survive that?

Cara sucked in a sharp breath, snapping me out of my thoughts. "This is so weird," she murmured. "They don't usually write this much for a rejection, do they?"

I shrugged, the motion sluggish, drained. "Does it even matter?"

She ignored me, her fingers gripping the pages tighter as she skimmed through the second sheet. Her eyes flicked faster, her lips parting slightly as she read.

Then she froze.

Her body went rigid, her fingers clutching the paper so hard that it crinkled between her hands.

"Margot—" she started, her voice barely above a whisper. Then her breath hitched.

A gasp tore from her throat, loud and sharp enough to make my heart jump.

She jolted upright, spinning toward me with wide, astonished eyes.

"MARGOT — IT WAS A MISTAKE!"

I blinked at her, my exhausted brain barely registering what she had just said. "What?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she thrust the second page toward me, practically shoving it into my face.

"Look! Look at the bottom! There's more — there was always more!"

Confused, I took the paper from her, squinting down at it. My vision blurred for a second, my head still heavy from the weight of my rejection. But then, as my eyes adjusted, I saw it.

A second email.

It was attached to the bottom, formatted like a follow-up reply.

I could barely breathe as I read the words.

"Further review of our records has revealed that your application was mistakenly merged with that of another applicant with the same last name. We regret to inform you that you received a rejection notice due to this mix-up..."

My stomach twisted violently.

"We are happy to inform you that your application has been successfully processed. You have been accepted as one of the candidates for the Prison Project. Congratulations! You are scheduled to depart on the 20th from Meadowbank Port, with further instructions arriving to you by email - please note to check your junk folder for this and we look forward to welcoming you on to the programme."

I sucked in a sharp breath, my hands trembling as I clutched the paper.

I read it again. Then again.

This couldn't be real.

So it was all just a mistake?

I hadn't actually been rejected?

I had been accepted?

I looked up at Cara, my mouth opening and closing as I struggled to speak. My thoughts were racing too fast to catch, too overwhelming to make sense of.

"I—" My voice cracked, my throat tight. "I got in?"

Cara was already nodding, laughing breathlessly as she grabbed my arm. "YES! You got in, Margot! It was all just a mix-up! You're leaving here too!"

A wave of emotion crashed over me, too intense, too sudden. My heart pounded against my ribs, my chest tightening as the reality of it hit me hard and my eyes began to stream.

I was going with her...

The relief was dizzying, almost too much to handle.

I let out a strangled laugh, half-disbelieving, half-overwhelmed. My body was still shaking, the adrenaline coursing through me making my limbs weak.

Cara was still grinning, shaking my shoulders like she couldn't believe it either. "We're doing this together, Margot. We're both getting out of here - even if it's to a damn prison - we did it!"

My stomach lurched as the reality of it all settled in. I was leaving.

But first, we had to get out of here...

Cara's grin faltered slightly as she looked back over the information. "Shit."

I stiffened. "What now? Don't tell me there's been another mistake!"

She looked up, eyes wide. "The ferry leaves at two tomorrow, Margot."

I felt my blood run cold, remembering that we may be celebrating far too early...

"How the hell are we making it to Meadowbank by tomorrow afternoon?!" I share her panic, dragging my hands down my face for emphasis on how stressed I suddenly felt.

Cara began pacing frantically. "Okay, okay, it's fine, we just — we just need to figure this out."

"How?" I blurted, already feeling the panic setting in. "We have nothing, Cara. No tickets, no money, no ride there—"

"—but we have desperation. We will find a damn ride!" She darts back, determined to not let this opportunity go.

"There's buses heading toward Meadowbank all the time, we should go to the terminal and see what's leaving from there soon..." she offered, as I nodded slowly.

"Ok, but we have no money?!" I deadpan, as she rolls her eyes.

"I'll figure that out!" Cara states, as I sigh and know that I had no other choice but to pray for a miracle on this.

"Ok, well let's go!" I eventually stand with her, motioning in the right direction, but Cara's feet refuse to move.

"Wait... do we — do we say goodbye to our parents?" She tests, evidently having an inner battle with the idea.

I let out a hollow laugh. "You can. But I will not be. He deserves nothing from me after this!" I say, pointing to the shiner of a bruise that his fatherly 'love' had left me with this time...

Cara met my gaze, understanding immediately why I had refused the suggestion.

My father deserved nothing from me. Not a goodbye. Not an explanation. Not a single ounce of closure.

I was leaving, and I didn't care if he even noticed nor did I feel guilty about leaving him behind.

Cara nodded slowly. "Yeah. Well my mom probably wouldn't even register that I was leaving anyway, it's been a bad week for her..." She forced out a laugh, but it fell flat as we both knew exactly what that meant.

She was back on the hard drugs...

We didn't say anything after that.

There was nothing left to say on the matter.

Instead, we just moved on.

We had nothing worth taking with us. No luggage, no sentimental trinkets, nothing we couldn't leave behind without a second thought...

The only thing that mattered was getting to that damn ferry on time... no matter what it takes!