The Way Old Friends Do - ABBA

I gazed at Kara, struck in awe by the bluntness of the entry, the way it laid out everything in plain letters for the reader. No odd word puzzles, or riddles to keep you at bay. If any of the information was true, Sibyl was then quite good at hiding her 'little secrets'. Kara must have read my thoughts, the way she nodded at me in agreement. I sighed sadly, feeling sorry that the only family she had left was the one that killed the others she had. Such a twisted life.

"How did your father get caught up in this?" I asked as I ran my fingers along the edge of the diary. Alan was leaning against the couch arm, absorbing every detail that was uttered. Kara took her seat once more near the piano, running her fingers along the keys lightly.

"He was the one who found out. He told my mother and she didn't believe him at first, but when the signs started progressing, she confronted my grandmother about it. And they both paid the price." I took a seat beside her, sympathizing with the guilt her face held, although I don't know why. "They exchanged notes with each other, because my dad moved to America to run the business along with my uncle, but my grandmother traced them back, and before I knew, I being told lies about their 'tragic death'."

"How are you so sure that all of this is accurate?" I asked.

"Because, it is," a voice said from the stairwell. We all turned, frowning as Sibyl came down the stairs, changed into a simple jeans and yellow blouse, her flaxen hair pinned into a high bun.

"Grandma," Kara started, clearly startled by her sudden appearance.

"Save it," Sibyl snapped. Her eyes fell on us. "Every time I have guests, you give me a reason to kill them. I'm running out of places to bury these dead bodies!" she yelled, causing all of us to flinch. I glanced at Alan, seeing him scrolling through his phone before quickly placing it in his pocket. We remained silent as she walked towards us, stopping directly in front of me.

"Your name's not Lily, and he's not Shane, and neither are you brother and sister." She glared straight into my eyes with her dull green ones. "Your name's Rhoda Paul from the United States of America, and you have something of mine, that's currently in your possession... And I want it back."

"I-I don't know what you're talking abo-"

"YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" she screeched. She wasn't looking like the frail, defenseless old lady she seemed to be. "I don't want to leave any loose trails when I'm done with the two of you."

"I'm not giving you anything, you sick twisted old lady," I replied confidently, although I was shaking inside. She merely rolled her eyes and walked to one of the couches, patting the seat.

"Sit," she simply said. "SIT!" she yelled when none of us complied, and soon we were all scurrying to them. She smiled brightly, as if her recent outburst was purely the norm. "I might as well tell you the full story," she began.

-Flashback-

Sibyl's POV

"Oh honey," I gasped, staring at the shiny diamond earrings in awe, placing them gently in their case, my jaw touching the floor. "These are beautiful." Maron smiled wearily, sitting on the edge of the bed where the tray with our breakfast stood, filled with fresh fruits and pancakes. 

"I'm glad you like it," he replied, pouring himself some tea. I turned to face him, catching on the tone of his voice, as it seemed sad, and tired, and for the most, relieved. 

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, placing the earrings fully in their case and on the dresser, just in front of the mirror. Maron glanced up at me, his eyes mirroring a bit of guilt before it was gone, and all was left with a emotionless stare. He took a deep breath, clasping his hands together.

"I've found someone," he began, pausing to absorb my reaction, but I had no idea what he was talking about."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I've found someone. Someone else." I didn't how to respond to that, so I remained silent, waiting for him to further explain himself. "I love her, and she loves me, more than you love my money." That took a hit, right on my heart, and deep down inside, although I'd still deny it, I knew the part about his money was true. "These earrings," he pointed to the dresser. "Are actually a farewell gift. Maybe when you sell them, you'd be able to feed yourself properly for a few years."

"Sell them?" I asked, my eyes wide. "Why would I sell them?"

"Because you'd need the money." He placed the teacup on the tray.

"Why would I need the money?" I placed a hand on my hips.

"Because I'm cutting you off all my finances." I was at a lost of words, surprised that he'd even go that far, just for the other 'woman' he found. And finally, when I felt recollected, I stared into his eyes with nothing but pure conniption and animus. I loathed every part of his body, at the moment.

"After all I've done for you, this is how you repay me? All of this over that bit-"

"Don't!" he interrupted me, with blazing eyes. "Nothing can compare, to all the efforts I put into you. I found you on the streets after the war, when you had nothing in your possession but that stupid small jewelry  box, and I!" he yelled. "I took you in! And guess what, you're a Jew. I'm not even supposed to see associating with you and yet I did, because I saw something in you that would make me happy! And this is how you repay me? By exploiting all my money on nothing but vanity and more vanity. I'm taking custody of Tessa." Tessa was our daughter.

"Maron, I-"

"Consider this your last decent meal," he said, pointing at the tray. I glanced at the cutlery that was assembled neatly near the food, and so many thoughts had raced through my head, and one decided to taunt me, daring me to do it. I solemnly walked towards the tray, snatching the sharpest knife I could and tackled him to the bed, making as many deep wounds as I could. And I was sure there was no way a hospital could save him, I stopped. Besides, he hadn't taken my name off his life insurance as well yet. So much for the 'other woman'. She'd just have to find someone else.