No expression of horror or subjected guiltiness hinged around her actions. She began unfolding her sleeves as casually as she used to do while scouring the burned remnants of omelet on a pan in Joseph's kitchen, returning to the minefield after cleaning her hands that were merely tainted in crimson to an inch's length.

She halted momentarily. It was odd. She tilted her head pensively and wrinkled her nose. It was surely not the smell of a charred omelet. Then, what was burning out there and polluting the air exactly?

It was the heated, surveying pupils of the kindreds noting the slightest swirl of her silk shirt as she moved along, to the way her eyes captured her surrounding, only to furnish a statement about her fake identity to Mrs Warner.

Joseph lowered his eyebrows in a quizzical frown, sighing. Now, what is she up to? He thought and reached the verge of something called a stalemate. Having no personal loss didn't make it easier for him either since had had a responsibility to send her back to her rented room safely, if this plan failed, which was most likely to happen. He had already attested his inner thoughts and accepted his defeat. Let's go now before they take any legal action against her.

Somewhere in the crevices of her mind, the idea came to her. The idea of not hiding her light under a bushel. Or in other words, the magic of her extraordinary tale-telling that had even fascinated Joseph. Hence,
it was the right time to take Mrs Warner in her confidence.

Let the show begin!

Armed with grace and courage, Ruby turned up at the nearest lady. Plagued as she was after seeing no changes in the old woman's face, this motor mouth prole AKA Ruby's heart jumped up to her throat.

A quick flash of pictures of people holding important positions and their major roles in the mansion, that she had been made to learn struck through her head. She rewound her syllabus hastily in her head just like a poor student rummaging through some important questions before taking the exam.

Yes. It is Mary, a rigid seventy-five-year-old housekeeper, short heightened, with an exacting standard of living. In her active days, she used to hone the elements of discipline not just only in the workers, but that applied to the other members of the mansion.

Ruby held the old woman's not-so-wrinkled hands and fawned over her, "Are you aging in reverse, Mary? Evergreen beauty as they say. You have taught me what discipline means in life from a very young age, and I consider myself fortunate enough to be raised under your guidance for those remarkable five years."

Then, I planted a small kiss on her hand.

"You look much prettier," the sharp words somehow didn't sound so much prettier from Mary's mouth.

Anyways, Ruby nodded after receiving that compliment. Well, forced-out-statement.

She took a long step and stopped before a man who stood next to Mary. He looked like a typical specimen of a philosopher pulled out of the Renaissance period. With bushy black eyebrows and a Dutch beard. He had white hair that spoke out loud about his experience with life. He was wearing a pitch-dark overcoat with a gray pair of pegged pants.

"Anthony Brown-- our sixth maths tutor, if my Archimedes is still alive." She gave her tight-lipped smile and glimpsed at his figure admiringly as if he was someone very close to her.

"You have hit the nail on the head," he replied positively.

"It's surprising enough to see you continue after such a long time. I remember how I fooled you once by showing some other day's homework in the present time, and you gave me a punishment in the form of ten math workbooks to ruin my summer vacation."

"Oh, well, I was terrible back then." He shrugged his splay shoulders and his age-induced coughs followed as he laughed.

"Respectfully, you were," she whispered in his ear secretly and stifled a giggle.

Anthony couldn't hold back his smile and patted Ruby's back.

"Mr Twain, I beg your pardon for troubling you a lot when you used to bring us back from the school." Ruby casually pressed her palms against each other and strolled toward a pudgy, around mid-seventies man.

He smiled and took off his beret hat, sticking it in between his underarm.
"Think nothing of it, Miss Elizabeth. It's an honor to see you happy and healthy."

Ruby blinked--a wave of victory washed over her face and she stole a glance at Joseph. The fact that she was successful in taking out the name from one person's mouth at least was a glorious coup de tat in itself.

She added, pretending to ponder, "I couldn't erase the particular event when I was about to swallow a little, glittery piece of a souvenir and you instantly shoved your finger to stop me from doing that." She closed her eyes and gulped, pretending to feel the words slink at the back of her neck. "It brought a cut on your finger, and you started to bleed-"

"You are embarrassing me now."

"Wow, it's so great to see you all in safe and sound condition." Ruby exhaled triumphantly, occupying her seat across from the lady of substance, Mrs Warner.

The man who was sitting next to Mrs Warner continued to rub his finger on his lower lip and screwed his eyes at her. He displayed the characteristics of a doggy man. Precisely speaking, the way he folded his one leg on top of another and shook it eagerly, showed a lack of respect for Mrs Warner who had been seating close to him.

His crooked yellow teeth lit in contrast to his tanned skin as he opened his mouth. "And you are forgetting me. I'd like to know what memory has kept me alive in your head?"

The man's appearance made him look like any undercover don or mafia. Plus, his two trophy girlfriends posed behind him. Ruby winced at his choice of clothes---who wears a mauve shiny shirt? She thought. And to crown it all, the three buttons were unbuttoned and gave away a detestable view of his salt and pepper-hairy chest.

Ruby chuckled with a glint of sarcasm. "Of course, Mr Arnold Garfield ─ can't go wrong with this one . . ." She only hoped that she could dish the dirty insight that Joseph told him, by saying, yes, it was you who spent my father's money on unproductive activities and never showed up for years after that. People may regard you as my father's best friend, but you were a piece of shit." She forced herself out of that thought and continued, "You were my father's friend."

"You mean to say a close friend."

Joseph who was standing behind Mrs. Warner's chair, rubbed his nose to hide his smile; her performance was impressive.

Arnold shifted in his chair and shot a dangerous glare at Joseph who showed himself busy playing candy crush saga on his phone, a small raspy voice saying 'tasty!' popped in the air.
Joseph instantly turned it off and folded his hands in front. There was a great show happening before his eyes, that none of the other attractive distractions could take place.

Mrs Warner looked at the agitated man worriedly and swiftly changed the topic to something he didn't have any connections with.

"So have you always lived here, Miss Elizabeth?" she asked with an air of calm.

"I used to work in a music academy where we provided work to contestants who couldn't win the singing reality shows and try to help them earn a living," she lied to the best of her knowledge, noticing how Mrs Warner's face lit up.

"That's good to hear."

Ruby hadn't been granted a moment of peace in the face of concussion as Mary fired a 'wait' abruptly, boring holes in Ruby's side profile.

She whisked her head with a forced saccharine smile. "Please."

"If you claim to be the real Elizabeth Warner. Then you must remember the length of the essay you wrote which surprised your tutor?"

She thought: I can't understand what medicines she is on, that she has to live this long. She's already got a sketchy, shriveled face to break the world's record of the longest-surviving woman. Did God send her for a specific purpose, as likely as not, to unravel my identity of Ruby, and only then her feet will turn up? People say old age makes them act like a child, but this old fart is as perky and rebellious as she might have been fifty years back.

On the other hand, Joseph got tensed, knowing Ruby was behind the eight ball, again.

Maybe short. Maybe long. Maybe nothing. I want out. Ruby's face turned pale as she returned to her question; her lips started quivering with uncertainty. She began to panic and once she realized that time was ticking, she had to prove that she wasn't dumbstruck by her question.

"Ah . . . of course. I wrote a very short---" Ruby accentuated each word and twirled her tongue by the end of the sentence mainly to confuse the clever Mary.

Sadly, she was totally wrong about both. Her answer was only a wild guess that was bound to go wrong, and her skill to outsmart Mary was the biggest mistake ever.

"Long. Exceptionally long essay of one page and thirteen lines," she declined Ruby's statement, on the cloud nine with her specification. "That's not close to a standard, but for her it was."

Ruby developed a sore throat and smiled after hearing the yellow-teethed man defending her, "Eh, she must be a little bean by that time."

Ruby's eyebrows knitted and she found the loudmouth's act of supporting her suspicious. She looked back at Joseph and rounded her mouth to say something. Rockets rained in her mind. She looked over her shoulder toward the door from where she had entered before. How fast does she actually have to run to have no one at her tail? She pondered.

"What was your father's favorite color for a wristwatch dial?" The lady seemed fully prepared to test Ruby's knowledge by picking diverse topics which Ruby didn't even have the faintest idea about.

"Umm . . ." It was indeed a rollercoaster test of her nerves. Her mind went blank, and her expression dulled. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that the bloody interrogation was still in continuation, and for how long she had to divert her mind from her stilettoes that ensued heel pain.

Joseph's eyes brimmed with calculation and traveled everywhere in the hall to give her a quick hint and stop these people to overlook the idea of establishing a detailed inquiry on her. He found a vaśe of blue daffodil bulbs, padding toward it--- he fixed his gaze at Ruby while she was looking away. "Please look at me. Look at me, Ruby. Ruby. Ruby . . . " he called the experience unnerving, calling her name like a pundit chanting the name of any divine deity on every bead of a mala.

Ruby brushed her hair back which was not required though because she had her hair gelled up and slicked back. She was nervous and brought about her heels to tap on the travertine flooring. At that moment she finally looked into his eyes; her eyes were showing helplessness and her chest began to heave up and down as she peered into his eyes.

Without catching anyone's attention, Joseph thrust a hand in the air of assurance alongside his fingertips caressing the delicate petals lightly.

Ruby squeezed her eyes and a moment later realization dawned upon her, he was telling her the color of the wristwatch dial. "Blue! How can I forget that." She jumped from her seat as she understood his intention.

"Oh, c'mon, this is turning into a grilling," the man whined. "Katherine, go hug your daughter."

Mrs Warner got up from her seat and gracefully walked onward. Ruby's eyes wandered to her bespoke silk shirt and an immaculate skirt covering her knees. Ruby mirrored her pace, hesitant with the sudden progress. Katherine had only raised her hands to cup her face when somebody interrupted. "Elizabeth, my lovely daughter."

"Elizabeth?" A new sound resounded in the hall.

Everyone whipped their heads to see a lanky guy standing at the entrance of the door. He was surprised to the point that he stared at Ruby from top to bottom as he closed the long distance between them.

Ruby noticed a boy of similar age, wearing a shabby black shirt with military pants. He shook his head and his disheveled hair mop shifted to one side, providing easy access to the scenario---particularly Ruby.

"She can't be my sister," he mumbled with disgust.

"Mark! I don't care how much time you take in accepting her as your sister. But she will stay here, in this mansion, and you are going to respect your mother's decision."

"I don't see a problem for as long as we have spare guest rooms here, you can invite just as many Elizabeths as you want." He pivoted on his heel and gave her a pointed look, whispering, "You should know you are not the first one. There were many wannabes before. Count your days until your secret comes out and you are thrown out to the dogs." His upturned lips flew in one corner as he scanned her long legs. "Oh, by the way, you forgot your reading glasses in my room so I came here to return them." He threw Anthony's spectacles on the couch before exiting.

Her heartbeat became dangerously loud and her breathing ragged.

Mark walked backward and clicked his tongue, "Tsk tsk . . . sorry Mrs Warner for interrupting your little reunion. You may carry on."

"Lucy, escort Elizabeth to her bedroom. She looks tired. Go and have a good night," Mrs Warner ordered, there was no change in her tone.

"You too," Ruby muttered unsurely.

"The property is also home to all kinds of luxury leisure spaces, such as a 50-seat movie theater, 11-bedroom, 14-bathroom, a basketball court, a bowling alley, squash courts, tennis courts, Olympic-sized swimming pool, a large stable and with room to house 40 dogs, a chapel, golf fairways---" Lucy babbled breathlessly, rather comically-- counting every feature on the tips of her finger.

She was stopped in the middle.

"Can you please show me my bedroom? I'm tired," Ruby gritted her teeth-- widened eyes as if she could swallow the maid's entire body in one gulp.

Word count - 1840

a/n; Yahoo! She nailed it. But how many of you think it's gonna be a park in the walk for her in the coming chapters? Nah... Nah... It's not that easy.

Mark is her brother/dick. That I leave to your discretion. Haha