The Midas Touch, Elizabeth’s private secret mega-yacht was making speed towards the island of Haven. As the owner of the ship, one would expect Elizabeth to have the best room on the small cruise ship. Somewhere with a view of the ocean all around and a clear view of the pool deck. And she did have such a room. It was a lavish place filled with silk, gold trims, handwoven carpets, paintings that should be in a museum and the finest tech toys money could buy (and couldn’t, she had her ways). Yet that room stood empty. She elected to sleep deep inside the bowels of the ship. Away from windows and views. A place where the sun’s natural beauty could not shine down. Instead of fluorescent lights beamed down from the ceiling. The floor was hardwood, only polished so nobody would get splinters from it. The doors were heavy and meant to fight the pressure of water rushing in. There she slept and lived during the past few days. Observing screens, numbers, maps, and contracts as thick as a book.

Some would call Elizabeth’s behavior a textbook case of obsession. It had all the telltale signs. The repression of her environment. Sometimes she read the same text five times, just to get sure she understood it all. Yet Elizabeth would call it hard work. Whatever you would call it though, you could hardly deny that she was hell-bent on destroying Haven. She had even gone so far as put the survey results as the background of every screen in her hole. A copy of it was even pinned in the middle of her board. A faint clang finally ripped her eyes off the documents before her. Carefully a sailor opened the door. He was surprised for a second when he saw her. She was a far, faint memory of the beauty she radiated just a few days now. “Ma’am. Haven is within sight. You told me to call you when we could see it?” the man said rather uncertain. Elizabeth rose from her chair and took her glasses off. The moment let her realize just how long she had been working. [b]“What time is it?”[/b] she asked as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Six, fifteen am, ma’am.” Six in the morning? Elizabeth wanted to feel like that had to be impossible. But the truth was that she hadn’t seen a clock or the sun in a week. It could as well be midnight.[b] “Very well. Prepare the speedboat. I’ll be down in an hour.”[/b] With that, the sailor left her cabin. Not much later she too came out and headed for her lavish room.

An hour later and a handful of sailors were just done with lowering the speedboat in the water of the inside dock. They all stood straight up when they heard the familiar ting of the elevator arriving. The sailor that once was surprised as how faded Elizabeth looked, was surprised once more by how beautiful she was now. Her once greasy hair was clean and wavy. With a light touch of makeup, Elizabeth looked as if being beautiful was just an effortless endeavor. Dressed in a black suit pants, black heels and a breezy, white blouse she boarded her speedboat. The dock’s doors opened up, letting the small boat free onto the water. With staggering speed, the little boat shot out of the giant yacht. Just mere minutes later and the yacht could very well look like a small cruise liner passing along. Exactly as Elizabeth had intended it. With staggering speed the boat approached Haven. “That’s a nice spot if you’d ask me.” The rather grizzled, old sailor steering the speedboat said as Elizabeth lifted her sunglasses to completely absorb the beauty of the island. “I’ve sailed for many people who’d pay good money to come to a place like this.” He added. Elizabeth couldn’t suppress the small grin. Why should she? Yes, it was beautiful now. Everyone would call the azure water, the lush green and the soft, sandy beaches a paradise. Everyone but Elizabeth. Who saw her mother in everything. If she could, she would burn the green from the island, trash the shores and let oil flow into the azure water. But for now, she’d be happy with merely burning down the huts and drilling for the liquid, black gold.

Within minutes she was upon the nearest dock and set foot on the island. Two rather grim looking fellows disembarked with her. Each holding a suspiciously dangerous-looking object on their belt and looked like they benched their weight every morning. Behind them, Elizabeth's scrappy lawyer tried to get the few wisps of hair on his head in order. For a moment Elizabeth absorbed the scene. The picturesque bungalows, the rescue boat. Her mother was a fool.