Shattered Glass

"Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead" -Benjamin Franklin

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The funeral lasted three hours. The chauffeur was waiting in the car the whole time as I returned to the car. I smoothed my black Versace dress and got inside the black Mercedes. I checked the time on my iPhone, and it read 10:37, which meant it had been 24 hours since my mother had died. Her maid found lying on her bed lifelessly, assuming she was asleep. However, when they found her asleep for more than 3 hours, they knew what was in store. At first, it had been assumed that she died in her sleep, probably overdose of her painkillers. But the doctors had claimed that she didnt have enough air; and that she suffocated to death. Someone had cold bloodedly murdered my mother, and I was determined to find them and make them pay.

As we drove past Coral Springs, my hometown, I saw the places I lived with my mother, the laughter and the happiness turned tears and sorrow. I pushed a strand of my curly black hair behind my ear. I looked down at my phone. One new text message, it read. I checked it and it was from Peter, my boyfriend. Let me tell you something before you assume other things. He was first my best friend, and we eventually fell for each other and it turned into love. So I guess you could still call him my best friend, but I see him as something more. "Hey babe, I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you today at the church, meet me at De Luca's tomorrow for lunch?" I quickly replied telling him that I was there. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the leather seat. Tears trickled down my cheek as I thought about the state of my life at the moment.

Let me tell you a bit about my mother. I inherit her dark hair and ocean blue eyes. She's the light in the sky. She doesn't walk, she bounces and every time she's in the room, there's a positive aura, and happiness was present. She never discouraged anyone, and she always, always  saw the good in people and never hated anyone. She never cried at my father's funeral. Instead of mourning in heartbreak or drowning herself in tears, she married William Valdez, my current, evil stepfather. It sounds cliché, but its true. He never loved my mother for her kindness, or her extraordinary beauty, but for the amount of money my father left behind. After her death, he mustve been ecstatic because theres no one between the money and him. Well, except for me. So that gives him the motive to kill my mother, which meant I was second. As my chauffeur pulled into the driveway of our grand manor,which once belonged to Celina Chevalier, a french ballet dancer who went crazy after killing her lover. She buried him somewhere before she went anal over killing him and kept expanding her small house day by day as it turned into the infamous Chevalier mansion, which my grandfather bought like, a hundred years ago.

I took the elevator and went into my safe haven: the library which is right across my bedroom. I usually spent my gloomy days in there, which in other words means the rest of my life. I picked up my all time favourite book, The Lightening Thief, by Rick Riordan. I love Greek mythology, it has so much...intensity in one family.I got to the best part, when the main character is claimed by his father, who is Poseidon, the god of the seas as my stepfather walked in. He kind of looks like a bald eagle with the sharp hook shaped nose, and the massive bald head. The only thing ruining his eagleness is the goatee. I put my book down and walked over to the window with a bed like thing. It was my mother's favourite reading spot, and her memories flashed against my eyes as I remembered her reading her Agatha Christie book and I would read Nancy Drew. We always loved mystery.

"Genevieve, your mother left the will. Obviously the entire fourtune belongs to you, including the manor and the land that they own back home in Delphi and Castres. In fact, your grandmother in Greece has asked you to come live with her for the next few years." He said with a sly voice.

"But Stepfather, I'm staring college in a month," I looked at the date, which said July 7th, "and its been three years since Peter and I have been dating. I think we're taking our relationship into serious measures" I protested. He raised an eyebrow in doubt.

"Genevieve, you are not to touch this money until you are 21, and until then, this is under my surveillance".

'You can't do that! Not one penny of that money belongs to you!"

"Yes, your mother was obviously selfish while writing her will, because your right. She left every speck for her stupid spoiled brat" he spat. My eyes watered as I coughed out

'But-"

"No buts, and until you learn to be disciplined, you can stay up here" And with that, he left me.

I wiped my tears and instead my being upset, I became angry. The man who killed my mother was living, breathing and eating under the same roof as me and I was determined to get him behind bars. I just needed evidence. Proof that he killed my mother.

Patience, Genevieve. Don't jump into conclusions, a voice whispered inside my head.

 

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hey guys, its Serena, thank you so much for reading my story, it truly means a lot to me. Please give me feedback on what you think, it'll be really helpful <3