Chapter 3
Victor Whitmore looked down at her and said, “Elena Bennett, I try to treat you well and you can’t even handle it? Since you don’t know when to quit while you’re ahead, walk home on your own!”
With those words, he swung around and climbed into the car.
Moments later the engine growled, and the vehicle pulled away.
Elena’s shoulders jerked as a shiver ran through her-so cold.
Her body was freezing; her heart felt even colder.
Bracing herself, she stood and set off toward the Bennett residence, placing one determined foot in front of the other.
Snow swirled around her frail form, yet every fresh footprint cut into the drifts with quiet stubbornness.
The wind slashed at her like knives, but she kept moving, mechanical and resolute.
Elena thought, ‘Hate them? The Bennetts sheltered me for twenty years; I have no right to hate them. But from this moment on I owe none of them my longing.
‘The warmth in that house was never mine, and I refuse to keep playing the clown. One year of taking the blame, one year of endless darkness and abuse -that settles every debt I ever owed.’
Inside the car.
After several minutes the rear-view mirror showed nothing but a seamless white expanse of sky and earth.
Yet Victor’s mind replayed the image of Elena’s skinny figure again and again.
What was she trying to prove in weather like this!
Pressing his fingers to his brow, Victor snapped at the man behind the wheel, “The snow is this heavy and you’re still driving so fast-are you trying to get
us killed?”
The assistant flinched and instantly eased off the accelerator.
A glance at the dashboard showed barely thirty miles an hour-hardly reckless speed.
Stifling his frustration, the assistant let the car idle forward at a crawl.
After an indeterminate stretch Victor finally spotted Elena’s silhouette in the mirror.
She was limping; he couldn’t see her face, yet the chill fierceness of her posture seemed colder than the snow itself.
He wanted to see how long she could last-yet she gritted her teeth and walked all the way to the Bennett gate.
Bennett family gate.
Adaline, draped in an opulent fur coat, stood at the entrance searching the road, excitement shining in her eyes. Annabelle clung sweetly to her arm and said, “Mom, it’s freezing. Why don’t you go inside? Julian and I can wait here for Elena.”
Adaline stared ahead, her voice tinged with guilt. “I haven’t seen your sister for a year; of course I have to welcome her myself.”
Remorse colored every syllable.
Julian frowned at the slight figure by the roadside. “Who’s that?”
Adaline squinted, then drew a sharp breath. “My heavens-it’s Elena! That’s Elenal”
She hurried across the snow, calling from afar, “Elena!”
At the sound of her name, Elena’s chest trembled; she paused, then quickened her uneven steps toward them.
Holding the umbrella over her mother, Annabelle greeted her with a gentle smile. “Sis, you’re finally back. We’ve been waiting so long!”
Elena lifted her gaze to the three of them, then dropped her head again.
Tears welled in Adaline’s eyes as she took in Elena’s thin summer dress. Covering her mouth, she whispered, “Your clothes… Why did you come out
dressed like this?”
Elena replied calmly, “Did you forget? When I was taken away it was summer, and this is what I was wearing.”
A whole year-no one had sent her a single change of clothes.
Adaline sighed, “Blame me for not thinking ahead. In weather like this, I should’ve brought you a coat. By the way, didn’t Victor go to pick you up? Why didn’t he come back with you?”
Chapter
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.