Chapter 55 Thank you, Edith
THIRD PERSON’S POV
Damian heard the knock the first time but he closed his eyes shut pretending not to have heard.
He was awake but he didn’t want to see anyone till the next day.
The knock came again.
He inhaled sharply, wondering who it was and why they were refusing to leave him alone.
“Mr Damian,” a voice called out from outside, “it’s Edith.”
Damian sighed.
“No wonder,” he muttered.
From the way their conversation had ended earlier, he already knew what Edith was thinking. She’d decided he was sad. And once Edith decided something like that, there was no changing her mind.
She’d start hovering. Asking unnecessary questions. Sending tea he didn’t ask for. Moving things around like a new arrangement of furniture could fix his mood.
And the worst part?
She meant well.
Which made it impossible to tell her to stop.
“Come in,” he responded.
The door clicked open and sure enough, Edith was walking in with a tea tray.
“I brought you some camomile tea to help you sleep.” Edith said, arranging the tea set on the table.
Damian smiled, “how did you know I couldn’t sleep Edith?”
She shrugged, “I just did.”
“Thank you for the tea.” He said, in an attempt to get rid of her, he knew it wouldn’t work but he tried anyway.
Edith smoothened the sheets and took a seat at the foot of the bed, next to his feet.
Of course.
“Talk to me, son.” She said softly.
“There’s nothing to talk about Edith, I promise.”
“But I think there is,” she countered gently. “For a brief moment, you were actually excited about Ms. Serena moving in. And now… suddenly, you don’t seem to care anymore.”
“It’s nothing.” Damian replied.
Edith studied him carefully. “No,” she said with quiet certainty, “something is wrong.”
Damian dragged in a long breath.
“I just got excited over the wrong thing.
“Hmm” Edith mumbled, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling up as she tried to think of an answer.
“I don’t know Serena well but she seems like she’s been through too much, she has a dark past.” Edith said.
When Damian didn’t reply, she softened.
“As humans, we are selfish by nature,” she said. “We want to be understood. We want to be healed. But sometimes…” she paused, “sometimes you need to help someone steady themselves first. Only then will they have the strength to steady you.”
“She doesn’t want my help.” Damian answered quietly.
“Have you made her feel safe enough to ask for it?” Edith asked. “When she feels safe, she will not hold back.”
More silence.
After a few more seconds, Edith cleared her throat like she was done saying what she had to, she dusted her skirt and stood up.
“We’ve moved Mrs Crowne’s belongings to the west wing like you asked.” She said with a slight courtesy.
When she opened the door Damian called out.
“Thank you Edith.”
She smiled, knowing he was thanking her for more than he wished to admit.
“Take the tea before it gets cold.” Edith said before finally walking out the door.
Clara, stared at the black velvet box with a smile spread across her face. For the first time in her life she had won Serena and without even trying at that.
She opened the box and the fluorescent lights in her room bounced off the glistening gems, enveloping the table in a green cascade of light.
Clips of Jonathan’s valentine gesture at the gala had graced the internet and people on TikTok were eating it up.
They had even created a hashtag for them. #Clarthan was trending number one on TikTok and instagram.
“There’s no way families wouldn’t Jonathan and I to be the CEO’s of the company that produces their olive oil.” Clara thought aloud.
The cool breeze coming in from an open window led Clara to go stand outside on the balcony but below, she saw something that caused her to pause.
On the pavement , Horace and Jonathan stood whispering amongst themselves. Horace seemed to be giving a command from the way Jonathan nodded his head in response.
They shook hands and only Jonathan walked back into the house.
Ninety seconds.
That’s the exact time it took before Horace slowly started to stroll into the house too.
Why didn’t they want to be seen together?
Clara thought.
And more importantly, why were they shaking hands in the dark? Horace was supposed to hate Jonathan.
The thought of Horace sending Jonathan to kidnap Trisha flashed across Clara’s memory. Leaving an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach.
The next morning, Serena's head started banging before she even opened her eyes.
She gently massaged a spot on her forehead and turned to stretch.
Trisha was still sleeping soundly beside her. Last night she had told Mike to lay Trisha in her room because she wanted to watch her through the night.
Serena reached for her phone and immediately she unlocked it, the message from the tipster stared back at her through the brightly lit phone screen.
She read it again, slowly this time. She plopped herself up on the bed, eyes focused on the message, dwelling on the content of the text instead of acting erratically.
First, she let her mind ponder on the identity of the anonymous tipster, but the possibilities were endless.
Then her mind trailed off to the previous night, Jonathan had gone out of his way to plan a romantic gesture for Clara and if the situation was different she would have congratulated her sister, been happy for her even but instead, she felt like her heart was being repeatedly stabbed with tiny scissors.
Serena felt Trisha turn on the bed and immediately straightened her back, wiping the tear from her cheeks. This was her secret, she couldn't let anyone else know that Jonathan’s betrayal still hurt her so deeply.
“Why am I in your room?” Trisha yawned, eyes half open.
“You were passed out, I didn’t want Mike going into your room with you like that.” Serena answered.
“Hmm” Trisha responded, “you look sad. What’s wrong?”
Serena shook her head, “Not sad, worried.” She replied and proceeded to show the message to Trisha. “Our guy made contact again.”
“Does that mean he was at the gala yesterday?”
“I think so.” Serena said, “my mind has been going crazy trying to guess who it is.”
“I’ll say it again,” Trisha replied sitting up. “Right now, whoever it is seems to be on our side and until they start moving like an enemy, I don’t think we should consume ourselves with their identity.”
“I know you are right, but curiosity is killing me!” Serena whined.
“Tell me about it.” Trish grunted, finally getting up from the bed. She breathed into heel palm and made a face. “Eww my breath stinks.”
She said heading for the bathroom door.
Serena checked her own breath too and followed Trisha into the bathroom.
They stood bent over the water faucet brushing, Serena had her phone in one hand still looking at the message when it buzzed again.
This time it was from a different number and it was not just a text message.
She tapped on the notification.
UNKNOWN: You weren’t the only one watching last night.
Below it was an image. When she downloaded it, the blurry photo filled her screen, the caption over it making her heart freeze.