01:08 - Willow (Frank & Imene)

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The early days of the financial firm were laden with frugality and a bit of disorganized mayhem. The Howard Financial Group, LLC, was created in 1997, by Frank Howard’s father George Howard, mostly invested in stocks and bonds, loans and mortgages, leases, and insurance policies. George was old-fashioned, but kept up with financial trends and overall policy in regard to laws and regulations for his very straight-forward institution. Frank, however, had other opportunities in mind.

On his list of mailers, the National Security Agency had an older paper published called, How to Make a Mint: the Cryptography of Anonymous Electronic Cash, which had interested Frank immeasurably, yet as the idea was in its infancy, George believed it to be an idea that would never breach onto the financial scene in any real platform, yet Frank had disagreed. He found a more updated copy in 1997, The American Law Review (Vol. 46, Issue 4), which surmised the idea of a digital currency not traceable by government or banking institutions, once again.

Frank benched the idea until he found a published article by Wei Dai in 1998 describing an anonymous, distributed electronic cash system, or “B-Money,” which created a fire under George’s apparent apathy for the future of software based technology.

Frank and his wife, Imene, decided to pitch the idea again to George once the platform hit its birth onto the financial stratosphere, when the first Bitcoin was created by pseudonymous developer Satoshi Nakamoto(it had more than one developer). They went over details of the SHA-2 (Secure Hash Algorithm 2), which contained its proof-of-work algorithms and how the rise of ASIC SHA-2 accelerator chips were used to verify and secure transactions.

They described the process down to the very bones, Imene being the most excited for this development, as she projected that this would revolutionize currency and that they needed to move quickly, steadily onward, as to not fall behind once the UK and other countries decided to latch onto this idea.

Imene was a bit of a favorite to Frank’s father, and he finally gave in, deciding to invest into the technology.

The business firm was inquiring on these technologies and George had initially put in five thousand in to start the investment. Frank and Imene’s daughter, Elaine(twenty-two years old at the time), who had been ripened to the idea of continuing the family business, was also interested in the new digital currency. Elaine started her job as a Financial Analyst beginning in 2010, but had always been a huge part of the business since she was ten years old. As that only lasted approximately five years——Elaine and her father had a severe falling out.

Elaine left the firm, putting in a formal request for a release of contract with the company in 2015.

This put a huge splinter through Imene and Elaine’s relationship, more so than before, they were already estranged, but seeing how her daughter’s resignation tore up her husband inside, it effected her feelings undoubtedly toward her only child.

Frank had always felt a bond with his daughter, yet it seemed always one-sided. He would teach her hacking skills, software technology and coding, how to clean out a pistol and properly use different weaponry. And—- how to never let someone say no to you unless you wanted it that way—-but she didn’t need or want to carry on his legacy.

Frank wasn’t the most legitimate person to run the firm alone, he seemed interested in shortcuts and also sneaky ways to show statistics of their official numbers to the board rising from the start rather than the steady stream it was “officially” reported. Once George officially resigned and put his son and daughter-in-law as chief financial officer and the latter as chief executive officer, both equal principals in the ownership.

George’s initial investment of five thousand dollars(0.031 Bitcoin price in 2010) turned into $287.5 Million for each one thousand he put into it.

Elaine, who used the alias Willow Dennings, had an ongoing salary since she was thirteen years old.

She had wisely saved up her funds.

Now, in late 2021, without any contact with her mother or father, it being three years since she had meaningful contact with them, finally realized she might need to figure out something to finally dissolve the last of her commitments to her family by way of slowly destroying the long term financial firm. Elaine(Willow) had kept in contact with her grandfather, who told her of the terrible news. Frank had been recently, through his doctor, had the recent prognosis of terminal stomach cancer and was already undergoing treatment and chemotherapy. This news both struck her deeply and yet filled her with dread—-a new feeling of strange apathy rose after the initial shock of the situation, and she was determined still to continue her plans.

Willow was on her own and was covertly looking to internally, through a friend and spy within the company, destroy the company from the inside out. She was able to see the discrepancies in the records her father created versus what originally was published—-she was able to see everything due to her hacking, her own malware and Trojan horses, a special intrusion concocted over the last year, as she elaborated to her closest friend, Red.

Her best friend and the middle man that helped her acquire the necessary resources and information needed to pull off said high level corporate espionage, was in severe danger, however.

Willow decided to head out to a familiar place whilst she concerned herself with Red’s welfare.

A range she had gone to numerous times with the older Italian and English gentleman, to practice their target accuracy. She imagined Red for a moment, her breath still and her heart thudding painfully in her chest.

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She put on one of Red’s favorite songs.

It made her so acutely sad to hear the song he had so rowdily sung in public once they were about town, while of course it had been raining and Willow was rushing to get somewhere inside. He took her hand and began to sing the ridiculous ballad, which made her want to punch him at first—-but she laughed and smiled at his antics, enjoying their time together. She ended up singing along with him, not knowing the words, but still trying anyway.

She put on another song he introduced her to.

She hated old music as it made her a bit annoyed—-but upon hearing Red’s improvised Italian version of the song, she started laughing at his garishly driven ballad.

He relayed to her a secret that he was looking for love in all the wrong places: merely that he had planned the most disastrous love trope ever—- to tell his best friend that he was in love with him.

That turned out rather poorly as expected, as Alex did not only not return the feelings—-he punched his old friend straight in the face, making his heart crash and burn into a cycle of self-hatred and fear of his own feelings for others.

He told her this song represented his luck in love too perfectly—-as love really was a kick—-or a punch in Red’s case —-in the head.

And of course, the day they planned the elaborate scheme to rob a chain of custard stands, in 2019.

They didn’t need much planning. Red knew the owner of the little stands. An old college friend—-someone he was very close to. Willow was able to disable their flimsy excuse for security, all the systems, all the cameras. They had masks on (it didn’t matter as the COVID Pandemic required it in most places anyway) and for the both of them—-it wasn’t about the money.

It was payback.

It was for Alex, Red’s former best friend and partner in crime.

They had a blast, and never got caught (though they hit a few close calls), and once they had the money, they gave it away to a charity.

It was the fondest set of memories Willow had with Red. She listened to the nominated Academy Award for Best Original Song, Everybody Needs a Best Friend, by Norah Jones.

She knew it was made for that insipid film Ted, but she pictured an almost completely animated scene in her head, picturing her and Red sauntering about town and frolicking with their stolen goods and cash, guns at the ready and dancing like fools.

She pictured their escapades to the tune, grinning a bit too wildly, almost like a Cheshire Cat—thinking of how adrenaline inducing it was to plan, organize and execute said robberies with the eccentric gentleman.

After the song was over, she got Suzie-Q and her hellcat, leaving the car stone-faced and a bit disturbed.

She was still feeling violent. Her lack of socializing and the fact that her incredibly small circle was getting even smaller—-she felt isolated and alone. Lonely, she could deal with, but—-alone, knowing that as she became closer to her goals she also drew everyone she cared about further away—-it felt…

Freeing.

Yet, she also knew it was bittersweet, and the feeling of freedom was not lasting.

She remembered one of the last memories she had with her mother and father.

They were all quietly sitting for dinner.

Her mother Imene always had the table set immaculately, and with folded cloth napkins, and place settings that looked out of a married life magazine.

Imene had come from a lower middle class background, a family that always had just enough to get by, but never anything left for vacations or extended family outings.

Imene’s African-American roots were important to her, and she taught her daughter about African American poets such as the great Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes. She taught Willow to be proud of her heritage, and to never forget where she came from.

During dinner, she was discussing such things with her daughter, more so, the elegance of their craft and how building up the financial empire they all had a hand in was to be their greatest triumph.

Willow, who hated the fancy way her mother set the table, always unfolded the fancy cloth napkin, requesting a paper napkin.

“I refuse to use this to wipe my face. I’ll use a paper napkin,” She stated defiantly, looking at her father directly.

Her mother sat down and gave Willow a heated, daring look. Willow pretended not to see it.

“When you have your own house, you can make up your own rules, Elaine. Please, don’t try your mother’s patience,” Her father said lowly.

The meals were already placed, a perfect balance of roasted potatoes, roasted vegetables, a side of greens, vegetable couscous and some fresh, homemade sourdough bread. Imene raised her family to be vegetarian. Another thing Willow hated. She wanted red meat.

So did Frank, but he didn’t dare cross paths with his wife.

“In this crazy, mixed up world,” Her mother started to say, picking up her greens a bit harshly with her fork. “All we have is each other. And there’s,” Bringing the fork full of greens to her mouth, she chewed it slowly, savoring the garlic and buttery flavors. “Nothing to stop us but our own innate ability to devalue our worth and to elevate our status. I won’t let anyone in this family hide behind their delusions of grandeur or their hubris.”

No one said a word.

“And Elaine, I won’t let you hide behind your little games. Use your cloth napkin!” She said loudly, making Willow immediately look at her mother in attention as though she were a drill sergeant. Willow almost unconsciously picked up the napkin, and wiped her clean face with it, a muscle memory of childhood, and it felt like a slap to her cold memory.

Frank swallowed his white wine a bit too quickly and started to cough.

“Frank, say something.”

Frank looked over at Imene and furrowed his brow.

“I’m not a child anymore, mother,” Willow said.

“Then act like it,” Her mother countered.

“Pass me the salt, dear,” Frank said.

“It’s salty enough. I’ll give you the pepper,” She said hastily, handing her husband the salt and the pepper by accident.

Frank smiled in an ironic expression and nodded. “Thanks.”

“You gave him the salt, too, Mother.”

Eyes that could kill, and perfectly manicured hands pointing menacingly at her daughter—-no one else said a word.

Frank ate steadily, pouring himself another glass of wine.

Imene ate like she was a rabbit, Willow concluded, nibbling and chewing like she had big old rabbit teeth.

Willow didn’t touch her food; she grabbed the red, unopened bottle of wine and drank straight out of it. No one paid attention enough to notice her behavior.

Finally, someone spoke.

“I’m leaving the company. And this house.”

Frank stopped eating. Imene didn’t stop eating, she looked down at her plate in a furious gaze.

“After everything this company has given you, you’ll abandon it just like that?” Frank said in a twitch that looked as though he had just felt someone had given him a particularly bad Indian burn. “You just want to leave it?”

“I don’t care about money. Or the company.”

Imene looked up slowly, and gave her daughter a hard look. Then, she spoke to her husband, watching Willow the entire time she whispered out her speech.

“Your daughter, ever the rebel dressed in black. She puts the wool over your eyes, Frankie, but not me. You think you’re better than all of this. Don’t you?”

Frank sighed. Willow tossed the cloth napkin in the middle of the table.

“No. I don’t. But I am not… I won’t let my life be dictated by rules that follow greed and excess.”

“But you’ll leave us to your own selfish whims?” Frank said in a huff.

Willow stood up. “All you ever cared about… all you two ever cared about was your image! How to look good! How to appear normal! How to act classy but then spit on your daughter’s face!” She growled. “You two would rather lose me than see your stocks fall a tiny bit—-then to see your company die!” She laughed in a deeply painful way, and Frank’s expression fell into one of disconcerting concern.

Frank didn’t stand up, but scooted deeply into his chair. “You will not disrespect the table. You will not disrespect me. Or your mother.”

“Hah. You said respect the table first. Do you think I care about this custom made cherry oak wood dining table?” Willow angrily spouted, hitting the side of the table in a barely audible slam.

“Elaine, you are being quite the Drama Queen tonight. Settle down. Finish your dinner,” Imene said carefully.

“No. No. I’m done. I’m done with y’all. I hate your bullshit—-the way you two pretend to care. I noticed the nicest you’ve ever been to me is when I pretend to love the company.”

Frank started to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“You are breaking your father’s heart,” Imene said in a seething hiss.

“No, you did. You all broke your own heart. You broke it the day this stupid firm became more important than spending time with your daughter. More important than asking me how my day was.”

She then took every folded napkin on the dining table, crumbled it up, and placed it in the fireplace in the living room.

Imene refused to acknowledge the behavior. Frank was trying not to let the tears set in his eyes, and fall as he saw how icy his wife was acting.

Willow left that night.

Now, as she prepared to shoot her beloved Suzie-Q at the outdoor range, the one where Red took her out to blow off steam all the time when their friendship first bloomed, she decided the target was no longer her dying father.

It was the bitch who had hurt Red—-but mainly, the one who continued to threaten him.

And her mother, the one who used to loudly read, “I’ve known Rivers,” by Langston Hughes at company parties and in front of strangers, showing how great her diction was and proudly showing her daughter how to impress family.

Willow would get her, too—-not by physical attacks. By deftly creating enough chaos and confusion that she’ll finally crack that perfect facade and the well-worn show her mother had put on for others her whole life.

And finally, Willow believed, on that faithful day of righteousness and retribution, she’d finally find peace. Not love, never love.

Just good solid peace.

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New chapters coming soon! Hope you liked it.😌😌 This chapter in particular took so much time and research and patience.—-thanks, Melissa