Chapter Twenty-Seven

They See Us

“We should go dancing again tonight.”

Selina glanced at Jack and smiled wide, though she did it facing the ground. He kissed her cheek - he always said her embarrassment was adorable. And just like that, just with the touch of his lips on her sensitive skin, with the strong yet delicate hold he had on her hand, just the way he looked at her and invited her to dance, life seemed to make sense again. St. Agnes didn’t feel so dark and cold anymore, the sun was warm and cheerful, the buildings and streets were beautiful and the citizens were loud and sympathetic.

Jack would change her world.

In a way, he was her salvation. She had been fired, she had made Victor’s plans more difficult and she had been a disappointment, both to him and to Lenora, all because she had given herself to him. But, in a way, it was worth it. No more secret intentions, no more fear and regret. She was free from all that. She was free to be with him. He was her savior.

Jack seemed to share her visions, though obviously in a different way. He swirled her around, almost like a dance move and brought her close to him, embracing her in his arms, before he kissed her.

“Jack, we’re in public. This is not appropriate.” She blushed and gently pushed him away, though no measure of proper could erase the smile from her face.

“Exactly,” he said with an expression full of mischief. “I want the whole world to know you are mine.” He kissed her again, with even more passion - as if he was trying to make a point or simply showing her how easy it was to win their little argument. It was very easy – she couldn’t resist and she was always ready to give in to him.

“Ahem.”

The sound of a mild cough was enough to interrupt their small moment of bliss. They both recognized the voice behind it.

Selina was quick to let go of Jack, even though he only half-heartedly let her do so, and a blush was equally as fast to plague her whole face. She eyed the ground with embarrassment and as a hopeful demonstration of respect.

Facing them, in the middle of St. Agnes’s streets, was none other than Lenora Skeffington. She eyed them with discomfort, though Selina thought she could detect a small glimpse of amusement in her eyes and she seemed completely out of place outside of her mansion, with her expensive and luxurious gown, her impeccable hair and her impressive poise. Madam Price stood behind her, waving with cheer at the young couple. 

“Jack, really, show some level of decorum,” she mumbled, while looking away in clear discomfort. “Such public displays of affection, as endearing as they might be, are not appropriate.”

“Endearing?” Jack repeated, a smile of enjoyment on his features. “Is this your way of apologizing, mother?”

“Apologizing?” Lenora seemed genuinely surprised. “What in God’s name for?”

“For your petty judgment.”

“Petty judgment?” Lenora’s eyes shot straight to her youngest, showing quite a generous amount of aggravation. “You mean my knowledge of you? My knowledge of your previous habits?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Jack’s relaxed attitude didn’t waver, in fact, he even indulged in more inappropriate behavior by pulling Selina closer to him and resting his hand on her waist.

Lenora’s lip disappeared into a thin line and she took a deep breath.

“I am not proud of my… assumptions,” she said, while making sure her hair was perfect. “But, in my defense, I did have my reasons.”

Selina eyed Jack with slight contempt and he was quick to wrap up the conversation, “Yes, mother… and?”

“I am sorry,” Lenora finally said. Immediately after saying it, her stance relaxed and she even graced the couple with a small smile. “I am here to tell you that, seeing as this appears to be a serious commitment on both parts, you have my blessing.” 

“Thank you.” Jack bowed. “Relish in this moment, dear Bea, for this is a miracle you are not likely to see again.”

“Yes, well, moving on.” Lady Lenora ignored Selina and Madam Price’s giggles and continued, “I am also here to correct another injustice I committed.”

There were a couple of minutes of silence, during which Lenora’s eyes fell on Selina and she smiled again. Selina tried to disguise her sudden sense of panic. She prayed to every deity she knew that Lenora was not about to do what she was already pretty convinced she was doing.

Please, don’t ruin perfection.

“I want to apologize to you, Miss Beatrice, for my rather rash decision to dismiss you from your service. I would very much like it if you’d agree to serve me again. I quite enjoy your company and your work.”

Selina stiffened, trying not to let the disappointment show on her face. Jack’s hand gripped her tighter, showing his support and Lenora looked at her with a sincere, almost too rare, wide smile. Selina knew it was difficult for her to show emotions, even more to apologize and admit to a mistake. She also knew everyone present thought she was doing her the biggest service – which she really wasn’t, though she could never let them know it.

She remained silent, trying to will that moment away. She knew the right thing to do, but it felt so very wrong.

“That is great news!” Jack celebrated. He looked at Selina with happiness. “Don’t you agree? You have your job back!” He then returned his gleeful expression to Lenora. “Thank you, mother.”

“Thank you for accepting my apologies,” Lenora replied, gracefully bowing to them. It was an alien sight and a very odd feeling to Selina, to have her lady do such things in her respect. “So, Miss Beatrice, am I to expect you tomorrow, at the usual time?”

Her real answer would’ve been no – but that was the answer she couldn’t give. She really didn’t want to return to that mansion, she didn’t want to return to the plan, she didn’t want to poison Sir Skeffington, she didn’t want to look at him, lie to Lenora and betray Jack in the darkest way. But she couldn’t say that.

She had to accept what everyone thought was a big blessing. She had to act according to her character – and Beatrice really needed that job. There was no way out of it.

She bowed, trying to hide her misery and faking a grateful smile.

“I would be honored, Lady Lenora. Thank you for your kindness.”

Lenora’s smile widened once more. “Thank you for accepting, dear.”

With this, she and Madam Price said their goodbyes and walked further into the market, where several other citizens eyed Lady Lenora with interest.

Jack grabbed her shoulders and flashed her one magnificent smile, one that almost convinced her that what had happened was the most joyful thing that could’ve happened. He kissed her forehead and was genuinely excited.

“This is great! You have your job back and, best of all, we can be together without hiding anymore.”

Selina smiled, wondering if she was doing a good job of it, when on the inside, she was feeling an anguish she wasn’t allowed to share or express.

She would never be truly his. She could never be true with him.

She was backstabbing the man she admired and cared for so much.

She was killing his father and Lenora’s husband – the woman who reminded her so much of Edna.

She was disgusting.

“We are definitely going to dance, tonight! We need to celebrate and I need a good reason to see you dance around the flames again.”

Jack’s enthusiasm and love only made it worse.

She wished he would hate her.

***

“Excuse me, is this the trey for Sir Amos?”

The servant looked at Victor as if she had never seen anything odder. To her credit, he had never been to the kitchens before and she certainly shouldn’t expect to see him there. She recoiled, like a scared mouse trapped in an alley by a terrifying cat.

“Yes, Sir McGrath, that is Sir Amos’s trey, with his afternoon coffee and his medicine.” She bowed lightly, though never taking her eyes from him, as if she was afraid he would attack her if she were to get distracted.

“Perfect.” He smiled wide and she eyed him with doubt. “I’ll take it to him.” He grabbed the trey and made out of the room without a second glance to the servant girl. She jumped in place and made to follow, speaking quickly and looking nervous, like following him was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Oh, no, Sir McGrath, I don’t think-“

“Don’t worry, Miss. I meant to go to Sir Amos’s chambers anyway. I’ll be saving you the trouble.”

He kept his calm pace and the trey confidently in his hands.

“Hmm, I really don’t… I mean, it’s no trouble, at all.”

“Good. Neither it is for me.”

“Sir McGrath, I really must insist-“

“Listen to me, Miss…something.” He turned to her and she almost bumped into him. “I will deliver the trey and you will stop following me. Understood?”

She trembled under his gaze, which was one of finality, even if his tone was light. The message in his eyes was simple - the conversation was over, it shouldn’t even have started. The servant nodded and bowed her head, allowing herself the relief of taking her eyes away from him for the first time.

“Yes, Sir McGrath. As you wish.”

“Good.”

He turned and resumed his walk, not sparing another glance at her and not even another second of thought.

Victor made sure no one was watching and, standing at the entrance of Amos’s room, mixed Ethel’s poison in his coffee. He knocked and without waiting for a reply, walked inside.

“May I come in, Sir?” he asked, more out of politeness than anything else, for he was already there.

“Certainly, McGrath, please do,” Amos answered, with a raspy, tired voice.

Victor was quick to close the door behind him and rest the trey in the closest furniture he could find. When he turned to properly look at the older man, he had to suppress a smug and pleased smile, replacing it with an expression of concern.

Amos was lying in his bed, as expected, looking older, more tired and ill than the last time Victor had seen him. His eyes were red from an exhaustion that seemed eternal, since the man had been resting for days and still couldn’t beat it.

Instead of indulging on his true feelings, Victor displayed a look of sympathy.

“I am really sorry to disturb you.”

“Oh, don’t be,” Amos replied, waving Victor’s apparent concern away. He sat on the bed, his back supported by large pillows and coughing through all the effort. “Lying down is such a bore, you are actually doing me a favor.”

“How are you feeling, Sir?”

“The exact same way I did yesterday – lousy.” Amos smiled kindly, though it was obviously not genuine.

“Well, let’s hope the medicine I brought you will help change that.”

Victor turned around and served the coffee, all the while hoping his smile wouldn’t betray him. He handed Amos his cup and the older man thanked him. He watched with glee as Sir Amos took a long, satisfied sip of his drink, before he even remembered his medicine.

“So what do you need from me, McGrath?”

“Oh, nothing much, Sir, just a few papers I wish for you to sign.”

Amos nodded and Victor made for the trey, where he had previously put a thin file with a few documents inside. He handed them to Amos and watched as he reached to his cupboard to fetch his old glasses. Amos put the glasses on the bridge of his nose and opened the files, studying them before signing.

“How are things going with the Marsal lands?” he asked, his eyes not wavering from the tiny letters on the papers he held.

“Impeccable,” was Victor’s sincere and confident reply.

“Good. And the von Stark investments?”

“Running smoothly.”

“The bank?” Amos spared a few seconds to glance at Victor.

“It’s all been approved.”

Amos nodded his approval and even gifted Victor with a small smile of contentment.

“St. Anne?” he asked, finally accepting a pen from Victor and getting ready to sign his name.

“They are reticent to do trades now they are aware of your illness,” Victor answered, being quick to add with a confident smirk, “But I have managed to persuade them to meet me and discuss the subject. I am very confident that, upon meeting me in person, they will finally be assured and agree to our terms. I am to travel to St. Anne shortly.”

“Good, good. Very good,” Amos nodded again, finishing his last signature and handing the file back to Victor. He took off his glasses and returned them to their place in the nightstand. “Sir Laurence is a difficult man to convince though and, confident as I am in your persuasion skills, I’d be more rested knowing you took Julius with you. As you may have noticed, Sir Laurence appreciates a familiar face and he has known Julius as my associate for a decade. He’ll trust him and, therefore, you.”

“Certainly.” Victor bowed to show his obedience.

“You are on a good path, keep heading this way.”

“I intend to,” Victor replied, smiling devilishly.

He bowed once more and made to leave, carrying his precious papers with him. Before he moved from arms reach of Sir Amos though, the older man grabbed his wrist, prompting him to stop. He gripped Victor with an amazing strength, for one so sick.

When Victor’s eyes returned to him, Sir Amos displayed an expression of slight urgency – one that Victor had never seen before on him and that seemed oddly out of place.

“I trust you to keep the greatness of this empire,” Amos spoke as if he was pleading him, which disturbed Victor quite a lot. There was something about his concerned, urgent eyes, something about his strong hold on him that shook Victor in a way he couldn’t understand. He felt like Amos was sending him a message, one he wasn’t quite sure he understood.

It was probably the medicine or the fever showing their effects.

Victor spoke with confidence and with a genuine flavor that he was used to hide inside that house, “You don’t have to worry about your empire, Sir Amos. It will grow under my guidance. That I can promise.” And he truly meant it.

That seemed to be enough for Amos, for he let go of Victor’s wrist and laid back against his pillows, looking sleepy and ready to give in to exhaustion.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Thank you, McGrath.”

Victor bowed again, even though Amos had his eyes closed and didn’t see him. He decided it was time to leave.

Already in the hallway, Victor closed the door and turned to face none other than Julius Grunt. He couldn’t help but smile at the man’s shocked expression, quickly morphed into one of anger. He was evidently about to enter Sir Amos’s room at that moment.

“Ah, Sir Julius!” Victor proclaimed with enthusiasm and a mocking smile. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“What were you doing inside?” the man mumbled, apparently trying to do a good job of disguising his hatred.

“Business, what else?”

Julius mumbled something that Victor couldn’t quite understand, but was sure it was insulting. The older man made for the door, but Victor grabbed his arm and pushed him in a forced walk with him along the corridor. Julius shamelessly and abruptly shook him away and tried to return to his intended destination.

“Sir Amos is sleeping,” Victor said, not even looking at the man, instead seeming more concerned in analyzing the new signatures on his documents. He felt Julius stop in his tracks and turn back to him.

“You lie.”

“Oh, for the love of God, Sir Julius, how paranoid can one be?” Victor laughed. “See for yourself, although I very much hope you have better sense than to disturb a resting sick man.”

Julius took a deep breath that screamed of frustration and Victor guessed he was very much against allowing Victor to be right about anything.

“Don’t worry, Sir Julius, you can try again in a couple of hours,” Victor continued his monologue, closing the file and finally looking at him. “Besides, I wish to speak with you, if you would be so kind as to follow me.”

Looking as if he would rather do anything else, Julius had no option but to comply. They walked in silence, Victor walking with pride and calm as usual, while Julius stomped behind him in badly hidden contempt.

When they finally reached Victor’s intended destination, he could almost feel the waves of loathing emanating from Julius and hitting him on his back. The thought made him chuckle.

He opened the door to Amos’s office and walked inside, ignoring Julius’s grunt and gasp. Victor sat in Amos’s seat behind the magnificent wooden desk and gestured for Julius to do the same on the chair opposite from him.

Julius didn’t move for a few seconds. He just stood at the office’s entrance, a mix of shock and anger showing on his face. Finally, he walked inside, closing the door behind him with too much strength.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting ready to work,” Victor calmly replied, trying not to sound too amused.

“In Amos’s office? How dare you?” he almost yelled.

“Sir Amos offered me the office himself. It makes sense, since pretty much everything I need is in here. You can ask him yourself once he awakes.” He looked at Julius and finally allowed himself to smile wild. “Settle down, Sir Julius. Sit, have a drink.”

Julius’s hands closed into tight fists and he, once again, mumbled something Victor couldn’t understand. One of his legs was shaking and his deep breaths illustrated his fury.

“This will not last,” he finally managed to say, in a threatening voice.

“Yes, yes, you will not allow it and such,” Victor waved his hand with little interest. He looked around the desk, searching for a lost paper. He finally found it, laying beneath a pile of books and files and reached for his own reading glasses. He looked over the paper and grinned with pleasure. At the sight of that, Julius squirmed in his spot, looking uncomfortable.

Victor returned his eyes to the older man.

“You don’t want to sit?”

“What do you want, McGrath?” Julius asked with an impatient sigh.

Victor shrugged. “Alright, let’s make this fast and painless, then.” He returned his eyes to the paper in his hand.

“Fast and… painless?” Julius sounded confused and, Victor thought, he had the right to.

“Where was it?” Victor mumbled, his eyes scanning the paper in front of him quickly. “Ah, here it is! Yes, this sounds about right.” He eyed Julius with a victorious expression. “I have come to a decision that I believe will interest you.”

Julius rolled his eyes and Victor’s grin intensified. He was sure that expression would not last long.

“And that decision is…?”

“I am taking you out of the St. Anne business,” Victor declared, anxious to study Julius’s expression.

It did not disappoint. Julius Grunt opened his mouth in shock. He was overwhelmed with surprise.

“You… you can’t do that!” he yelled, his surprise quickly turning into anger, once again.

“Well, you see, actually I can,” Victor replied, shrugging again, like he was apologizing, though he was actually making fun of the man standing in front of him.

He was pretty sure that Julius was seriously considering murder.

“Amos won’t allow it!”

“Sir Amos is not in charge anymore, at least not for now. But if you wish to complain, be my guest. It will serve you very little.”

They remained silent for a few seconds. Julius eyed him with hard eyes and a stiffened stance while Victor returned the stare with amusement. He knew Julius wouldn’t say anything to Amos – it would be humiliating for him.

“As you wish,” Julius finally grunted through gritted teeth.

He made a move to leave and Victor continued, before he reached the door, “Oh, and I am also taking you out of the next dozen expeditions. More or less. Until I change my mind.”

Julius slowly turned to him, struggling to keep himself in control.

“What?! Why?!”

“Sir Julius, you are too… grumpy,” Victor answered, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “I don’t think I can bear such long journeys with you sitting next to me, muttering empty threats and fantasizing about my untimely demise. It’s… uncomfortable.”

Julius seemed more than ready to argue, when a knock on the door conquered both their attentions.

“Come in,” Victor spoke towards the door. In a second, Albert was entering the office.

“Sir, I have delivered your message to Sir Nicholas.” Albert bowed as he spoke.

“Did he accept my invitation to accompany me to St. Anne?”

“I’m afraid not, Sir McGrath.”

Victor was not surprised. “Thank you, Albert. You may leave.” After the servant left the room, Julius returned his glare towards Victor. He merely smiled wide. He was expecting Nicholas’s refusal and it was actually a relief. He would be commanding the meeting.

“Oh well, more fun for me.” At the lack of movement or reaction from Julius, Victor decided to return to work. “You are excused, Sir Julius.”

“This is not over!” the older man warned.

“Sir Julius, think of this as some much needed vacation. I expect you to return with better moods and an improved attitude. I will send for you if I need your input, though I shall try my very hardest not to and, meanwhile, you may refrain from coming to my door.”

He grinned at the expression on Julius’s face. He knew the mention of his door enraged him. It was satisfying.

Instead of walking towards the door, Julius actually approached the desk. Victor was prepared for what was coming and sighed, as a sign of boredom.

Julius rested his hands on the desk and got closer to him, whispering with anger, “I don’t trust you and I never will. I know you’re hiding something and I will be keeping my eyes on you until I find out what it is.”

Victor returned the hard gaze. “Do your very best.”

***

Lewis entered The Black Cat in a hurry, barely paying attention to his surroundings and frantically searching every corner of it. As usual, during the day time, it was calm, quiet and cold, a contrast to the confusion, loudness and warmth it shared during the night.

He spotted the young apprentice in the furthest corner and walked towards him, mentally thankful that Patrick had, not only received and responded to his message with the necessary urgency, but also had the good judgment to choose a secluded table – as secluded as it could be in the small bar and the ever watchful city.

“What happened? Why all the urgency? What have you found out?” Patrick immediately asked, even before Lewis had managed to sit down.

“I have been investigating,” Lewis replied in an almost whisper, sitting down next to the young detective, “and I think I may be on to something.”

“You found out anything about the murders?” Patrick asked, wide-eyed with enthusiasm.

“No… well, not directly. I’ve been researching about the von Mallesch trial.”

Patrick found it hard to hide the slight disappointment that hit him and Lewis felt the need to elaborate.

“This is important, though. You know, for such a known, high profile trial, one as controversial and talked about as this was, there is an appalling and rather suspicious lack of information and material about it.”

“It’s very old.”

“Regardless. I had to sell my soul to find anything at all.”

“What did you find?” Patrick’s interest was rekindled, mostly thanks to the urgent nature of Lewis’s speech.

The journalist threw a bunch of papers to the table. He waited for Patrick to look at them before explaining, “Those are some of the evidence used against von Mallesch during the trial. I had to bribe the secretary of the Court House to get these copies and it took her days to find them. The man who persecuted William, John Walker, is not even alive anymore.”

Patrick immediately glanced at him and Lewis smiled, understating his reaction. “He died years ago of chronic illness. He wasn’t murdered.”

The apprentice returned his attention to the papers. “Well, this isn’t much.”

“Exactly! That, in itself, is odd enough.”

“Are you going to tell me what is in here or do I have to read it all?” Patrick asked, amused.

“Those copies are for you, I expect you to read them. They’re very interesting.”

“What should I learn from them?”

Lewis took a sip from Patrick’s drink and his expression was solemn.

“Those evidence… half of them are weak and dubious, the other half are strong but seem too convenient to be true. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think William von Mallesch was a bloody idiot, getting caught like that - and we all know that was not the case. A man stealing from his partner, committing the crimes he was accused of, wouldn’t be so dumb or so careless as to leave that kind of trail. Any kind of lawyer would’ve seen this, even one like Graham would’ve been able to get at least probable doubt. I don’t know how Judge Musgrave could’ve overseen this. von Mallesch would’ve never had been sent to jail the way he did, had it been a normal trial.”

“What is your point?” Patrick frowned.

“My point is…” Lewis stared at the detective with a somber expression. “I think most, if not all, that evidence is fake and forged. I think the court was corrupted, I think the trial was a mess and a joke and I think the investigation was corrupt, as well.”

“Jackson…” Patrick smiled. “You don’t seriously expect me to believe that someone, whoever that person might be, would be able to corrupt the whole justice system of the city? The court, the guard, the detectives, the lawyers, the jury… It’s too much!”

“Hence the danger of it, isn’t it?” Lewis did not seem the least bit shaken by Patrick’s disbelief. “Everything points to this. The speedy trial, the secrecy behind it and the investigation, the lack of history and documents on it, the feeble or too convenient evidence… It was all a scam. I tell you, after you read these papers, you’ll agree.”

“Even if it was,” Patrick started, still not looking entirely convinced, “how could this possibly relate to the recent murders?”

“Patience, my friend.” Lewis smiled. “One step at a time. Trust me, read those papers. You’ll find yourself agreeing with me.”

“I will, but I doubt it.”

“After you do, I will need you to do one thing for me.”

“What?”

“You have access to all the documents and papers relating to all the detectives and all the cases that have passed through your force, correct?” Patrick nodded and so Lewis proceeded, “You may want to look for more information regarding this trial, though I’m very much sure you won’t find any.”

Patrick nodded again. “I’ll try.”

“Do it without anyone else knowing. A detective investigating police corruption will not be well received.”

“I still don’t believe my force has been corrupted.”

“You will.” Lewis took another unauthorized sip from the young apprentice’s drink. “Also, and most importantly, you must investigate the Chief Detective of the time, the man in charge of the von Mallesch investigation – Samuel Black.”

“Samuel Black? That man is the greatest Detective this city has ever seen! I highly doubt he was corrupt.” Patrick looked almost insulted at the mere thought.

“Well, Reuben Musgrave was the greatest High Judge and look where he is now.”

There was a moment of silence, until Patrick spoke again, “What exactly do you want me to search for, regarding Chief Detective Black?”

“Everything you can but, most importantly, his finances and personal life at the time and the most details you can find about his path throughout the investigation.”

“The man is retired but still lives in St. Agnes. Why not just ask him?”

“Only if we find anything worth asking about. I don’t very much fancy accusing Samuel Black of corruption without any proof against him, do you?”

Patrick chuckled. “You’re right.”

“Trust me, Peterson, I have a very strong feeling about this. Something about this trial is wrong, it must somehow relate to the murders and I have a feeling Samuel Black is the most important figure in the middle of this.”

***

Ethel was back in her favorite couch, next to the grand windows of the von Mallesch living room. The sun’s light was waning, the afternoon was coming to an end and soon, the world would invite the darkness and welcome back another chilling night.

In that same room, sitting at their long wooden table, were the children, having their usual reading and writing class with Preshea. The class was taking longer than usual, though Ethel couldn’t be any less focused on them.

She looked through the window, holding an empty glass like it was precious. Her mind was far away, lost in thoughts – thoughts of blood, of vengeance, of murder, of Victor and a red haired man.

She thought about Lewis and his interest in the three missing children. He was dangerous and he was close. Ethel wondered if she should tell Victor. She knew she should but she couldn’t.

Lewis was a threat to them. He could be their ruin. If he kept putting the pieces together, he could be their fall. She knew she had to tell Victor, it was vital, it was important to come up with a solution.

But she couldn’t.

She knew exactly what Victor would do. The same thing had crossed her mind. Eliminate the threats. Nothing was more important than the plan, nothing was more important than revenge, nothing was more important than their secrets and their survival.

Victor would kill him.

And yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t quite tell why.

Of one thing she was sure though – she had never killed someone before they did something to deserve it. She had never killed as prevention. She did it as punishment. Lewis didn’t deserve punishment, at least not yet. But could she allow him the time and opportunity to hurt her remaining family?

Ethel took a deep breath and brought the glass to her mouth, more out of habit than anything else. She decided not to tell him, not yet. It was too early. She would keep letting him get closer to her, keep confiding in her. She would discover where he stood in his investigation and, if possible, threw him in the wrong direction. 

She would try.

If he wouldn’t allow himself salvation, then she would have to tell Victor and Lewis Jackson would die.

“Ethel.”

She was shaken away from her morbid thoughts by Preshea, whom she hadn’t even noticed approaching. At the sight of her surprise, the blonde woman smiled and sat next to her.

“Your mother loved sitting here, gazing at the stars,” Preshea said in a tender voice, staring at the sky. Ethel didn’t answer and Preshea continued, after a sigh, “The lesson is over, the children went upstairs.”

Ethel nodded, to show she was hearing, but still remained silent.

Preshea sighed again and rested her hand on Ethel’s knee, finally gaining her attention. She eyed the dark haired with kindness.

“You look tired, Victor looks exhausted… This is taking a hold of you. Have you ever considered stopping?” Ethel returned her eyes to the window, a grin spreading on her face. Preshea spoke with more urgency after her reaction, “Maybe if you did, then Victor would too. You are feeding each other’s madness and, in turn, it is feeding off of you! Please, Ethel-“

“What do I have left?” Ethel whispered, to herself, compelling Preshea to stop talking. “I know exactly the kind of evil I am and I am at home… What do I have left?”

Preshea couldn’t answer, she didn’t know how to. Ethel finally looked at her, the grin had turned into a sad smile.

“This is not what’s exhausting me. I have been this way from birth. I’m at home. I’ve been tired for most of my life. It never stopped me. It’s who I am, who I have to be. It’s what I have.”

“That’s not true,” Preshea replied. “You are much more than this. You both are! You’re just… lost in the wrong path but… you can return.”

Ethel chuckled with bitterness. Preshea continued, “You have two loving children who admire and adore you. Can’t you see that? They follow you around because they feel a connection to you. I’ve seen the way they look at you. Ethel, you could have so much more. You could have it all. You have the possibility of a happy life and to share that with Alice and Joshua. All you have to do is choose.”

“I made my choice long ago.” Ethel smiled wide. “It’s ingrained in me. What we are doing is… almost fun.”

Preshea’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “You don’t mean that.”

In turn, Ethel’s smile disappeared and her eyes hardened.

“There is no turning back.”