Chapter 6
Serena told the truth faster than Marcus.
Not because she was better.
Because she realized Marcus had lied to her too.
She sat across from me wearing none of the jewelry he had bought with my mother’s care money.
Smart.
“I thought Victoria was moving willingly.”
I stared.
“You saw the dresser.”
“Only yesterday.”
“Did you ask?”
She looked ashamed.
“No.”
Good.
“Why?”
“Because Marcus told me she had episodes.”
Again.
Madness as cover.
Easier to ignore someone when authority has already labeled them unreliable.
“What did he promise you?”
Serena wiped her face.
“He said once Catherine took over the house, there would be space for us.”
“For you and Marcus.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
She looked toward the staircase.
“My rooms.”
I almost smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because he had promised my bedroom to his mistress while my mother lay restrained thirty feet away.
“How long have you been sleeping with him?”
“Seven months.”
I felt less than I expected.
Maybe betrayal becomes smaller beside elder abuse.
“Did you think he would divorce me?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say I agreed?”
Her face changed.
“Yes.”
Of course.
Another convenient version of me.
Tired.
Leaving.
Ready to give up command.
Ready to give up marriage.
Everyone received a Valentina who wanted exactly what made their choices easier.
Then Serena said something useful.
“He told Catherine something different.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“He told her you were going to strip Marcus of household authority and send him away after your trip.”
Interesting.
Different pressure.
To Serena: Valentina is leaving.
To Catherine: Valentina is coming back stronger.
One needs to rush into my place.
The other needs to secure her son before I return.
Marcus built cooperation through incompatible fears.
“What did Catherine want?”
Serena looked at the pendant on the table.
“To become what your mother was.”
There.
Not merely protect Marcus.
Catherine wanted the house.
The staff.
The dinners.
The symbolic center.
May you like
My mother’s pendant was not stolen for beauty.
It was worn as rehearsal.
