Chapter 7 — Nothing Like a Refreshment

Narrator:

Only a couple of days passed, and just as Aylin had feared, living with Sasha became a minefield.

The teenager made no effort to hide her disdain. She responded with sarcasm, ignored every suggestion, disappeared for hours, and left her room in chaos. But Aylin took a deep breath, counted to ten, and carried on... until that day.

Sasha had been refusing to bathe for two days.

“I don't want to. So what?” she said, shrugging her shoulders as she sank into the sofa in her room, wrapped in a blanket that probably hadn't seen water since she was born.

Aylin tried to remain calm, opting for the cordial tone she had been using since she arrived.

“Sasha, you should take a shower. It's hot and... well... it's important.”

The teenager laughed without looking up from her cell phone.

“Important to whom? I don't care.”

Aylin pressed her lips together, still clinging to her patience as if it were a thread.

“You'll feel better. Besides, it's not nice for the others.”

“For the others? Well, the others can put up with it,” Sasha replied, turning her back with total indifference.

Aylin closed her eyes for a second. That was it.

She got up from her seat, crossed the room, and stood in front of Sasha, forcing her to look at her.

“Enough. You get up right now and take a shower.”

Sasha frowned.

“What if I don't want to?”

Aylin didn't back down.

“It's not optional. I'm not going to stand here putting up with this smell as if it were normal, and I'm not going to let you walk around the house leaving that trail behind you.”

The teenager opened her eyes, surprised by the change in tone.

“Are you going to force me?”

“Yes,” Aylin replied firmly, without batting an eyelid.

Without giving her time to react, she took the bottle of glue that Sasha had on the desk, uncapped it with a single movement, and without further ado, emptied the entire contents onto her head.

The sticky liquid slid down her hair, dripped down her face, and soaked her sweatshirt as Sasha jumped up, screaming as if she had been attacked.

“Are you crazy?!” she shrieked, shaking herself uselessly. “What's wrong with you?!”

Aylin left the empty bottle on the desk, as calm as if she had just watered a plant.

“Now you have a good reason to take a shower.”

Sasha stared at her open-mouthed, incredulous, as if she couldn't believe what had just happened.

“I'm going to tell my dad!

”Fine. Tell him that not only did you smell bad, but you were also walking around the house sticky.

The teenager let out a frustrated growl, kicked a pillow as she passed, and stormed off to the bathroom, grumbling all the way.

Aylin, meanwhile, took a deep breath, picked up the blanket from the sofa, and smiled to herself.

Maybe living in hell wasn't so bad after all.

While Sasha locked herself in the bathroom, complaining loudly and reluctantly turning on the shower, Aylin set about cleaning up the mess the teenager had left behind.

She gathered up the blanket that smelled so bad she had to hold it with her fingertips, picked up the clothes scattered on the floor, and even the towels that had been lying in a corner for days.

Without wasting any time, she went down to the laundry room and put everything in the wash, as if she wanted to erase every last trace of what she had just endured.

When she returned upstairs, Sasha was already coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe and with wet hair. She glared at her angrily, muttering something under her breath, but without stopping.

Aylin only managed to see her disappear down the hall, on her way to Roman's office.

And then she knew. She was going to tell him everything. She took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Well... whatever will be, will be,” she whispered to herself, mentally preparing to face the Devil.

Sasha stormed into Roman's office, without knocking, without warning, pushing the door open forcefully.

Roman looked up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow when he saw her come in with her hair soaked and her robe ill-fitting.

“What is it now?” he asked, unhurried, as if her mere presence already annoyed him.

Sasha stood in front of the desk, crossing her arms and pointing her finger at the door, as if Aylin were right there.

"Your babysitter poured a bottle of cola on my head!

Roman blinked slowly, as if he were having trouble processing what he had just heard.

“What?”

“She threw soda on me! Are you going to do something about it or what?”

Roman rested his elbows on the desk, interlaced his hands, and stared at her, as if searching behind her words for the whole story.

“And why did she do that?”

“Because I didn't want to shower,” she replied with complete brazenness, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

Roman let out a short, dry, incredulous laugh.

“And you didn't want to shower?”

“I didn't feel like it.”

“Uh-huh...” Roman nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Well, it seems she found a pretty effective solution.”

Sasha stared at him open-mouthed, as if expecting another reaction.

“What? Are you going to defend her?”

Roman gave a cold, crooked smile.

“Let's just say I prefer you to stink less. If she got you to take a shower, I think she's achieved what many others haven't.”

Sasha snorted in frustration and turned on her heel.

“Unbelievable.”

“Ah, Sasha...” Roman called after her before she walked out the door. She stopped, without looking at him. “Next time, take a shower by yourself and spare us the show.”

Sasha stormed out of the office, kicking the air in anger, while Roman returned to his laptop with a barely visible smile, thinking that perhaps Aylin was proving more useful than he had imagined.

Aylin walked toward Roman's office with a knot in her stomach. She knew full well that Sasha had already told him everything, and no matter how hard she tried to calm down, the idea of facing Roman Adler after pouring a bottle of cola over his daughter's head had her on the verge of collapse.

She knocked softly and, upon hearing permission to enter, went in.

Roman greeted her with a direct look, putting aside the cell phone he was holding.

“Is what Sasha told me true?” he asked immediately, bluntly, without preamble.

Aylin clasped her hands in front of her body, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor for a moment before daring to speak.

"Yes, Mr. Adler... but I can explain. She hadn't showered in days, the room was unbearable, and there was no way she would go into the bathroom. I tried to talk to her, to insist, to be patient, but... well, I lost my temper. I didn't mean to disrespect you or her, I just...

Roman stood up abruptly, causing Aylin to fall silent instantly.

But what she didn't expect was to hear him laugh. And not a short, dry laugh, but a genuine laugh, the kind that seemed almost impossible in someone like him.

“Unbelievable...” he murmured between laughs as he walked over to the liquor cabinet.

He poured two whiskeys, as if they were old friends in the midst of a celebration, and handed one to Aylin. She stared at him wide-eyed, unsure whether to accept it. “Relax, Aylin,” Roman said, handing her the glass. “That was brilliant. Very creative. I loved the solution you came up with.”

Aylin took it awkwardly, still processing what she was hearing.

“Aren't you... angry?”

Roman took a slow sip before smiling calmly.

“I'd be angry if you'd let that brat keep doing whatever she wants. Believe me... if you manage to tame Sasha, you'll earn my respect.”

Aylin could barely hide her surprise.

“Thank you... Mr. Adler.”

“You're welcome. Now drink up. You deserve it.”

And for the first time since she set foot in that house, Aylin felt that maybe, just maybe, she would survive all of this.