Chapter 12

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The butler held the door open and Elizabeth strolled gracefully into the dining room. They were dining without her. She sat down, inhaled deeply, then lifted her gaze to confront the probing stares of husband and daughter.

"So, what's for dinner?" Elizabeth asked cheerily, preferring to avoid any dramatic outburst. It's true she was an hour late, but wasn't she allowed imperfection sometimes?

"Where have you been?" Edward inquired of his wife. His tone, while pleasant, quietly demanded an answer.

"At a social gathering for only women, dear. But I'm here now, so let's leave that discussion for later. Plus, I have a slight headache."

"From having too much to drink, perhaps?" Rebecca interjected, stirring her iced tea with a slender index finger. Elizabeth watched her sharply, her lips becoming a fine line. Was there anything the little imp did not know, she wondered.

"I believe this discussion is between your father and I sweetie, so stay out of it." She warned through clenched teeth.

"Maybe I would have stayed out of it, had father not been sitting here with worry for the past hour." Rebecca replied heatedly. "Nevertheless, when I arrived you were hardly missed. My presence brings so much joy." Elizabeth bit back the retaliation by chewing on her bottom lip. Edward sensing an uprising, lifted his palm for silence.

"Let's not discuss this any further, shall we? Dinner's getting cold." While they were conversing, the servants had brought Elizabeth's dinner. Father and daughter resumed eating, but Elizabeth pushed her food around the plate. She was still quite full from the meals she shared with her friends. Suddenly, she exclaimed with feigned surprise.

"Oh Rebecca, I almost forgot! I bought something for you on my way home." She reached for the pink and black gift bag she had placed on the floor, and handed it to her stepdaughter.

Astonished, Rebecca stared at the bag cautiously before taking it. She opened it and extracted a diary, beautifully engraved with flower patterns. The pages were salmon pink in colour.

"A diary?" Rebecca drawled, puzzled by the gift.

"Well isn't it popular among female teenagers today?" Elizabeth asked. "Don't you like it?"

"Yes I do... thank you." Rebecca smiled. The woman may be clever, she thought, but Rebecca's calculative mind refused to be outmanoeuvred. "I always wanted one of these. I'll start using it as soon as possible. Perhaps tonight."

"Very well, my dear. Enjoy!" Elizabeth beamed happily at her husband, whose facial expressions mirrored her own. His big hands covered and squeezed hers in affection, an action that both broke and hardened Rebecca's heart. Would her father think her a lunatic if she dived across the table and wrestled Elizabeth to the floor? Instead she stood and cleared her throat. Her stepmother's grin widened like a child at Christmas, to Rebecca's chagrin.

"Going somewhere Rebecca?"

"Actually, I'm quite moved by your most delightful gift. Please allow me to bless you in return." Rebecca trotted to the piano, talking over her shoulder. "I know how much you like to hear me sing and play, so I've got a special tune for you."

Elizabeth panicked. Not this evening, her mind screamed. She couldn't take another night of hearing those haunting notes anymore.

"Not this evening dear. Besides, as I told you I've got a headache."

"Oh, but I insist!" She plopped onto the seat and familiarised herself with the keys. "Not to worry Elizabeth, you'll love it. This was the song my mother composed when she first got sick." Soft musical notes encased the room, stifling Elizabeth with its true words.

The words Rebecca sang were of a friendship beyond sisterhood, or so one believed, until the disguise was ripped asunder and the identity of the betrayer revealed. Broken-heartedness could only describe the pain of such knowledge. The lyrics spun the tales of the poisoning of the soul, hidden lies, and the truth that would one day be revealed.

By the time Rebecca finished the song, Elizabeth was white as bleached bone. Edward clapped his daughter's performance, eyes glassy. When he realised he was the sole person applauding, he turned to his wife. Noticing her complexion, his forehead crinkled filled with concern.

"Are you alright Elizabeth? You've become so pale." She smiled weakly.

"I'm okay darling, as I said I have a headache." As Edward was about to recommend she visit the doctor, Rebecca interjected.

"Don't worry father, she's a strong woman and will pull through. Besides, you know stepmother dislikes being fussed over. Since it's late, maybe we should retire to bed. I'm sure by morning she'll feel better. Sleep is always the greatest cure for misery." Elizabeth's rebuttal gravitated to her stomach when Rebecca navigated a single finger to her stepmother's lips.

"Don't try to speak, you'll worsen your condition. Help her to her feet father, because like I said... it's time for bed. Good night." Clutching the diary to her chest, she exited the room.

Closing the door to her refuge, she threw the book on a chair and lay on the floor. The song she had sung had unstitched wounds she thought were healed. Pain flooded her veins as she wept uncontrollably for a mother she could no longer touch physically. I'll wait for you in my dreams, mother, please come to me in my dreams, she begged silently.

If only reality was the dream and the dream reality, then she would not be living in such a nightmare. Pulling the covers and a pillow from the bed, she comforted herself.

The overcast sky hid the roundness of a beautiful new moon, the extra darkness soothing Rebecca's mood. Wiping her tears with a corner of the covers, Rebecca lowered her eyelids and thought about sparkling eyes, a loving smile and warm embrace... she thought about her mother.

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