"How are we supposed to decide what's important for a debate?" I asked, collapsing onto the sofa in the parlour and dropping my satchel onto the floor.

"I guess it will be all of the major points, the ones that have the most value in answering the question." She shrugged and pulled a stack of paper from her bag.

"So the main one would be that we have to obey the laws and should have the right to vote for them too."

"That sounds right."

Evelyn scribbled it down onto the paper. I readjusted my position on the sofa so I sat cross-legged and could see her paper a little easier. We spent the car ride back to the house trying to come up with as many possible arguments as we could with Marsh even throwing in a few options that we could use. However, we had far too many ideas and we knew there would be a time limit on how long I had to present my argument so we decided to break it down into more important arguments.

Upstairs, I could hear the creak of the floorboards and someone moving around, but I had no idea who it was or whether Mother had even emerged from her room. In all fairness, I didn't mind all that much since it meant I didn't have to face and I knew that seeing her would only make things awkward and have Evelyn asking too many questions. Not seeing her for the entire day would be perfect for me.

On the floor, I could just make out the stains left behind from me flipping my plate onto the floor. Most of it had gone onto the wood, but the jam tart that fell onto the rug had left a small, almost unnoticeable stain. If Evelyn did notice it, she didn't say anything.

"What would be the other important points?" Evelyn asked.

"Women's freedom? Giving women more agency over themselves and it would also be that first step into more opportunities for women."

"That's a good one, but Mildred would be able to spin it and talk about how it's a woman's duty to look after her husband and household. If you go for that route along with the fact that women have to obey laws so should vote for them, then it'll have to be pretty concrete."

"Which is why you're here. I'm going to need all the help I can get with this."

She smiled. "I think you could handle this one on your own."

"I thought I heard voices," Mrs Smith said, appearing in the doorway. "Your giggling can be heard in the kitchen."

"Sorry. Mrs Smith, this is Evelyn Davison. Evelyn, this is Mrs Smith, the housekeeper here."

"Nice to meet you, Evelyn. Why don't I get you both some biscuits or something? You can keep your energy up when you complete your schoolwork."

"Thank you."

Mrs Smith nodded before leaving the room. She returned a short while later with a plate of biscuits and some glasses of orange juice which we both drank when we worked. I nibbled on the edge of the biscuits but I still didn't feel all that hungry even though it had been over a day since I last ate anything substantial. Usually, I would have devoured the entire plate in a matter of seconds, but I just didn't feel like I could stomach any food.

We worked for an hour, the two of us coming up with a list of different points I could make for my argument. Although we would need to put them into a more cohesive format when it came to the debate itself, the list would have to be a start since Evelyn would be due home. I didn't want her to go since she offered me a buffer to protect myself from having to talk to Mother, but I knew she only had permission to stay for a little while.

Throughout the afternoon, Evelyn would occasionally look up at the portrait of Grandfather on the wall and I knew she wanted to talk about him. Part of me wished she would mention him, especially since no one else in the family wanted to, but the other part couldn't find the words to talk about him. That overwhelming feeling of grief would reappear inside of me at the thought of talking about him and I knew I would struggle to get the words out had she mentioned him. How could Uncle Matthew expect me to talk about it when I couldn't find the words?

"Maybe I can come back tomorrow and we can keep going. We could even write a speech for you to learn," Evelyn said, she handed me the paper and stood in the threshold of the door with Marsh waiting outside.

"I like that idea. I want to be prepared."

"I'm not sure you need to be though, the argument you gave on Friday was convincing and I doubt you planned that."

"Not really."

Evelyn laughed. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Evelyn."

She smiled and I stood in the doorway, watching her cross the gravel and climb into the backseat of the car. Before the car disappeared, she turned around and waved at me but within seconds she was gone. The moment I crossed back into the hallway, the heavy blanket that had covered the house that morning suddenly returned. Those brief hours of respite I had gained through school and with Evelyn had been shattered.

The blanket weighed heavy over the house and my shoulders, it felt like it had started to envelop and suffocate me with every breath. There would be no escaping the feeling until the next day and I didn't think I could handle having that force weighing on me. I clenched my fists at my side and took a shaky breath to try and combat the feeling, but it didn't do anything. It only got heavier.

I returned to the parlour and retrieved my satchel, throwing it over my shoulder before climbing the stairs two at a time. Noises came from Mother and Father's room, but I ignored them, heading to my room.

My breathing grew more laboured almost like someone had reached through my chest and grabbed ahold of my lungs. I could feel my heart beating in my chest and hear the sound of beats in my ear, almost as though they were echoing through my head. My hands shook. The floor underneath my feet appeared to sway and I stumbled into my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

There had been no trigger, no reason for me to feel the way I did and the more I tried to fight it the worse it became. Last time, Father had yelled at me for being with Uncle James rather than Uncle Christopher, but nothing like that had happened. Instead, it felt like I was suffocating and there had been no cause for it. I wished Uncle Matthew was with me.

Since I would be on my own, I followed the same rules as last time. I focused on my five senses and pinpointed one thing in the room or outside of it that could help to keep me grounded and focused. Slowly, my breathing returned to normal, the room righted itself and the echo of my heartbeat faded into the background. The shaking in my hands continued.

I pushed myself off the door with the intention of changing out of my school dress, but before I could someone knocked at my door. My breath caught in my throat and for a brief moment, it felt like I had started choking.

"Who is it?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Only your favourite Uncle in the world," Uncle Matthew said from the door. I let out a shaky laugh, more from relief than anything else. I never really believed in coincidences, but this certainly seemed like one.

"Come in."

He pushed the door open and peered around it. "I thought we could continue our conversation from yesterday. If that's alright with you."

I nodded. "Fine."

"Are you alright? You're really pale and it looks like your hands are shaking."

"I'm fine. I just-" I paused, struggling to find the words. If I told him what had happened, he would tell Mother and they'd think I'm crazy. The words wouldn't come.

"Just? What's going on Izzy?"

Uncle Matthew stepped into the room and closed the door behind him so no one could hear us. I walked away from him, wringing my hands out in front of me. A thousand different thoughts ran through my head at a faster and fast pace. Some told me not to tell him, to play it off as something else entirely because telling him the truth would admit the one thing I had been denying to myself and everyone around me. The other half decided that he needed to know, that I couldn't keep hiding it and that Uncle Matthew would be the best person to tell.

I crossed to my bed and took a seat on the edge of it, twisting my hands up in the blankets and then untwisting them, the repetitive motion helping me to think straight. Uncle Matthew slowly approached me and took a seat on the side of the bed beside me. At first, he didn't say anything.

"Your mother used to do that," he said.

"Do what?"

"Wrap her hands up in things. She said it calmed her down. Does it help you?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes. It gives me something to focus on, I guess."

"What's going through that head of yours, Izzy? I told you yesterday that you can talk to me and I meant it. Talking about it might be the only way you can deal with it. Everything you say to me will be private unless it's something I think your parents need to know. Please, just talk to me. Not for my sake, but for yours."

I looked at him, twisting my hands up in the blanket one more time and then untwisting them. Mother never told me she used to do the same thing. Deep inside of me, something stirred. That feeling of grief I had experienced the other day, the overwhelming crushing feeling that until now had stayed inside, returned at full force. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, fight against it and bury that feeling again, this time it felt like a wave at the seaside.

Before I knew it, I had tears streaming down my face and a strong feeling of sadness that wrapped around me like a blanket and pulled me deeper inside of it. Even if I wanted to fight to get out of it, I knew it would be a losing battle. Uncle Matthew sighed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards him and saying nothing. He allowed me to sob into his chest even after his shirt had become damp and we both knew it would lead to questions.

Every bit of emotion I had been keeping inside for over a week came pouring out of me in a matter of seconds until it felt like I had no emotion left to give. Not even the anger could be found, but I knew it was still hiding somewhere under the surface, waiting for the right opportunity to arise again.

"I'm guessing you needed that," Uncle Matthew said after a little while.

"Sorry, I don't know what happened." I wiped my eyes and let out a shaky laugh.

"No need to apologise, Izzy. I think you reached your limit of how much you were keeping inside and it suddenly came running out."

"Like a wave."

"Exactly." He squeezed my upper arm. "Do you think you're ready to tell me what's been going on? You can take it slowly and you don't have to tell me everything."

I nodded. "I think so. Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise."

I took a shaky breath, pushing myself off Uncle Matthew so I could look at him. My hands were still shaking, both from the incident before and from the crying but I tucked them into my lap and didn't even try to keep them hidden. Although I had a feeling that keeping his promise would be difficult once I told him the truth about everything, although I intended to keep out the thoughts I had had down by the pond, I knew it couldn't hurt to at least get it off my chest.

So I told him everything. From the first time Grandmother showed up, to the overwhelming sensations of anger that had consumed me every day since. He didn't speak or try to comment on any of it which I think had been my biggest fear. Instead, he sat there and listened to me rant and rave.

I could feel a weight being lifted off my chest with every word that I spoke. Perhaps he had been right; talking really had been the best idea.

~~~

A/N - Chapter Twenty is here! It astounds me just how fast we are moving through this story, but I do hope you're enjoying it!

Questions! What do you think about Izzy's argument? Do you think it will win? Do you think she will tell Matthew everything?

Comment below!

First Published - September 21st, 2021