Chapter 16

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"Dearest Journal," Vera Claythorne looped the words in an orderly fashion from the tip of her straight pen to the top of the page, "Oh, how I do enjoy writing those words. How exhilarating to keep a book filled with all my plans and secrets right under the noses of these sinners!"

Now then... everything is falling into place in a most auspicious manner. No one at all suspects that young, sweet Vera Claythorne is behind this. I am, you know, the only soul on this island whom none even think to blame. It is truly a splendid little chess game we all are playing, though I, of course, shall act as Queen! Only William Henry Blore and Philip Lombard are left. You know the rhyme by now:

Three Little Soldier Boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two. Two Little Soldier Boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was One...

How dreadfully excited I am to finally rid the world of such vile and putrid creatures. No longer human, dear Journal. No longer human have they become." Vera pulled herself from the pages of the old journal and back into the real world. Well, as real as she had chosen to make it on her own pleasureful little island. This truly was one of the joys, Vera thought to herself soundly, of this whole affair. It was, after all, the reason she became a governess, to begin with. When caring for young boys and girls, she was the one with power over things. She controlled what they did or didn't do, and they hadn't any voice in the matter. So it was on Soldier Island. Ms. Claythorne was the cat in disguise as the mouse. She blended in well with the other guests and had given them no reason to believe she was anything but exactly who she seemed to be. Little did they know, behind the scenes, she tugged the strings. Here, she was the leader.

Vera blinked twice and smiled to herself as she pushed the upholstered rocking chair she sat in forwards and back with her foot while sifting through the pages in the tattered book that sat securely on her lap. She smirked and let out a sharp breath when she reached the first page. Scrawled at the top in her small, organized cursive font read, "I have been recently fantasizing of a way to remove some of the evil from this world. Not all, but at least enough. Enough that I could be forgiven for Cyril... yes, perhaps one day I will find a way."

Vera whispered,

"Look how far I've come since then," and smiled, almost kindly, again. She braced herself on the wood arms of the chair and drew herself up and out of it, smoothing the pleats in her white flowing dress and fixing her hair again behind her left ear. Vera turned suddenly at the sound of a knock on her bedroom door. She glanced outside her window and saw that the sun had finally taken its time to rise. It created a bright, warm morning glow in the room and filled it with golden light. A knock startled her once again.

"Vera?" sounded a voice that could only belong to Philip Lombard. "Vera, are you there? We will be eating breakfast promptly, will you join us?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" she replied soothingly.

He inquired:

"May I come in?" Vera's eyes drifted to the journal, still sitting plainly on the chair. She silently reached for it and gripped it to her chest as she began walking slowly over to the door, searching the ground and listening intently. When she heard a small creek, she clicked her tongue triumphantly and pawed at it with her toes until one of the floorboards came loose and drifted open with a low groan. She placed the book carefully in the space underneath the board, pushing it shut with satisfaction and hurrying over to the door. Her hands fleeted to the dresser beside her and found a hairbrush which she combed through her lazy waves while opening the door.

"Just had to give my hair a quick brush. My apologies for the wait," she said sincerely. Lombard looked around the still room cautiously and accepted the answer.

He said:

"Shall we, Miss?" reaching out to motion to the stairs. Vera gave a short nod in response and followed his hand to the stairwell, stepping carefully but gracefully the whole way down. This would be quite a pleasant day, she decided, as she sat down to begin their meal. Yes, what a pleasant day indeed to murder a sinner.

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