Chapter 13

I quietly closed the door behind me as I entered his darkened suite.I cringed as I heard the coffee machine fall to the ground followed by what sounded like another bottle of perfume. The mixture of strong perfumes seeped through the door adjoining the room.

My eyes adjusted to the dark and I was not sure what to expect after barging in unannounced but I had to get away from her, she could be such a terror sometimes.

At first the room appeared empty and dark. There were a few red candles like the ones in my room lit on the dressers.

I considered going back through when I realized he was sitting at the counter using one of the candles to light a cigarette . His eyes were closed and he appeared completely unaware that I was there. I sighed as something else hit the adjoining  door and Rose’s screaming continued

“Please, sit”, he said calmly

I sat at the stool along on the other side of the counter gently tucking my legs to the side. My fingers accidentally skimmed the a hot tea kettle and I could smell that bitter tea. The shirt he was waring lay open and I could see the edge of a healing scar, it looked so much like the ones on my face.

“I have to tell yo u something.”, I said, “Something I’ve never told anyone.”

“Is this about what we discussed earlier ?”

“Maybe, I don’t know”, I took a deep breath, “the truth is I love my daughter, I’m her mother I’m supposed to. But it’s always been really hard there is just something about her. . . I don’t like. It’s as if the older she gets. . .”

I stopped not sure that I wanted to finish the sentence, some things were better left unsaid.

“Perhaps I was out of line earlier.”, he said

“Yes, you were”

He placed both hands on the table and looked at mine.

“How so ? ”

“After. . . what happened I became somewhat of an expatriate myself. I was determined to start over in Italia, my second home. I honestly didn’t think anything would ever  bring me back to Rochester. I was lying to everyone when all I wanted to do was put everything behind me. The dark terrified me, I was constantly afraid of going asleep and waking up locked in a small room.

And the nightmares. . .

I suppose sometimes in my nightmares I would see Lucie’s face looking down upon me or yours. . . though that wasn’t really a nightmare.

As soon as I could I left for Italy, I was doing so well for the first few months.I had a beautiful apartment, my music  had never been more inspired and I had Peter when the nightmares became to real. Yes, Peter and I did become closer. It was as if we had gone back to how things were. He wanted me and I pushed away but we were still close.

That all changed when I began to get sick. I thought maybe it was the flu or I had an infection from all my injuries. I had just gotten my bandages taken off and didn’t want to see the inside of a hospital again so I avoided it at all cost.

It was a long time before I was convinced to got to a hospital. Even after finding out I could never quite believe I was pregnant. It was too late for me to do anything about it. . .

I couldn't hide the truth from Peter and I never felt like I needed my family more, so I went home. My mother was so happy to have me home the next week we went to the family doctor together and I found out I was having a boy.

Growing up in a family of women it felt strange to think I was going to have a son. We decorated my sisters old room in sky blue and yellow and brought everything a little boy would love. My nerves and apprehensions were gone and I was happy.

In the beginning my family was so accepting. . . true, my father did try to convince me to get married to save the family name but I was still. . . heartbroken.

I helped my father work from home and I only went from my sister’s house and back. I never left the house not that I had a reason to. Somehow I was content  keeping my pregnancy a secret. I had tried venturing out in the world. . .um, before, and I ended up dead so being Daddy's girl suited me.

Then something strange happened.

 One day I woke up and my heart felt so dreafully heavy. The excitement changed and I guess the glow had faded. I felt incredibly sad as if I’d lost something. Nothing about the world changed it was just me, something was different.

I was so convinced something changed that day and I never really did recover

Rosalie was born at home a few months later. Her birth was so difficult,I suppose it was mostly my fault.

Her birthday was on the third and I was in my room studying to start the PHD program at Rochester when my water broke.

I was scared almost petrified, when the contractions started I didn’t move I didn’t scream I just felt comatose like something was keeping me trapped on the bed. I kept convincing myself I should yell for my mother but I was afraid of something.

Somehow I had  managed to fall asleep and when I couldn’t sleep I was crying as quietly as I could into my pillow. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I felt like the pain was my punishment for all the lies I was telling, it was physical pain and it helped deal with the emotional that I deserved it.

In a house so large even if I would have yelled I doubt anyone would have heard me.

The live in  nanny found me when she came to borrow a pair of shoes, my mother kept asking me why I didn’t say anything  but I couldn’t answer. My mother held my hand till the mid wife arrived as my father, I never took my eyes off of him. He stood there with his arms folded with such a bold disappointed look, it was almost worst than the pain. Father left when the mid wife arrived and he took my mother with him.

I don’t like asking my father for things but I begged him to let my mother stay, I needed her, but he wouldn’t listen. He refused me the simple comfort of my own mother.

She didn't cry  when she was born,  I heard them say "it's a girl" but I knew that  that wasn't right I was supposed to have a son. Then I saw her face, or lack there of. I looked for her eyes and mouth but they weren't there and no one else seemed alarmed.. I thought I was delusional that I had given birth to some monster . .. my bed was soaked in blood and . . .

I had passed out and  I don’t remember much after that except for being taken to the hospital. I was later told that my baby had been born with a caul and do to complications I couldn't have anymore children.

My mother and father stayed with me at the hospital and it wasn’t till later that I realized that there was no one to watch Rosalie during her first days in the world

 Everyone was so concerned about me, it was like the old times.

The first thing Father did once I was healthy and at home was sit the entire family down; me, Clarice, Claudia, their husbands, and Mother.

“The DeLune family has been through a lot lately”, he said, “we just need to stay afloat and remember to keep family matters within the family.”

Mother nodded from next to him and agreed.

He pulled me aside into the hall while everyone sat to dinner,.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Clara”, he said, “Now we all have to live with your mistakes”

"I'm so sorry, Papa", I'd begged for his forgiveness and he slapped me. I tried to get up and he hit me again.

"I won't have a whore calling me that name", he said that hurt more than his hand.

Rosalie started to cry and father told me to let Nanny Ella get her, while he dragged me off to our family dinner

I suppose she was a good baby, she hardly ever cried and was always prone to nosebleeds. She wouldn’t even let me feed her, which made me upset at first but it gave me time to do other things, like school work.

Sometimes when I was washing her little clothes by hand it made me feel more like a mother than when I was holding her. She never cried, she never needed to be comforted, she never needs me.

I suppose my mother knew there was something strange about her but she never said anything, after all she had her own child to worry about.

Our entire lives were precariously set up through my father. I wasn't beautiful anymore, no man of considerable wealth would marry me with a disfigured child. I think, perhaps, I stayed because of my mother. I never wanted to leave her so I went along with whatever he said.

My family went on vacation just before Rose’s first birthday leaving just me and Nanny Ella at the house

Ella and I brought her presents and baked a cake but Rosalie wouldn’t eat it. In the middle of our party I went upstairs to find her presents  and found an unopened blue and yellow blanket I’d brought before she as born.

She was to big for it by then but I opened it, and it still smelled so clean an untouched. For some reason I started crying. . .I truly felt as if  had lost something

I suppose the point I’m trying to say is sometimes when it comes to Rosalie I feel nothing. I’m just going through the motions of being her mother and I know she is doing the same. She never needs me to protect or comfort her. Everytime she calls me Mommy I can feel her seething indifference. I was an adult woman  the night Rosalie was born and I lost my voice begging my mother to stay, and even though she didn’t I still felt her love.

I’ have to love her because she’s my daughter, but the truth is there is something wrong with her, something terrible that I have to live with every single day and whatever it is I hate her for it, I don't need to know what it is.

Becuase I'm her mother and  because she is my only child is why I will keep her safe. Not because I love her or because she loves me.

Perhaps if she did die it would put us both out of our misery."


I stopped talking and  finishined my conversation with the untouched half empty scotch glass in my hand. I started wishing I could take back all of my words, but not really.

“I’ve nearly talked the night away, I should let you get some sleep”, I said

I didn’t get up and he didn’t say anything but put the freshly lit cigarette out.

“Say something”, I said

“Either way  I suppose she is just a child”

That made me angry, anyone who spent more than 5 minutes felt uncomfortable with her. If anyone I expected him to be honest with me. Apparently that was asking to much.

“Good Night, then”, I said

“Truthfully, I’ve only heard you speak of obligatory love with one other person ?”

I stopped at the door and turned around.

“Who ?”

“Lucie”, he said

“I suppose that’s true”

There was a long silence, a real silence

“It’s quiet”

He took a key off the key ring and opened the door to that connected the suites. I peeked through the door and saw Rose had fallen asleep on the bed, the small room was in a complete disarray around her. She had curled up with Ann and slept comfortably on her side of the bed. She looked very sweet when she slept, it should have made any mother’s heart melt. After my rather long winded confession I knew how she really was.

I turned away, nearly running into Mr. Fierro’s chest.

“You could have married, if you really wanted”, he said closing the door behind and locking the door, “I didn’t mean for you to be . . . heartbroken”

It seemed to be the only part of the story he remembered

“It was only natural, I suppose.” My eyes were focused on the key in his hand, “It wasn’t until later that  I realized. . . and thought I. . .

“Thought what ?”

“I realized that I’d never get to tell you that I loved you, I began to think maybe I never did”

“Did you ?”

I stood on the tip of my toes and even though I knew I shouldn’t I pressed my lips to just underneath his. His hand slid underneath my jaw keeping me pressed to him. He relaxed a bit and kissed me.

I kissed him back eagerly, maybe to eagerly I could still taste bitter tea on his lips and my tongue. My back was now firmly against the door and even though I could feel the handle burring into my skin, my hand traveled down the more defined muscles in his back and arms familiar and different at the same time.. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so close to someone.

Or could  I.

"Do you still love me ?", I asked, my eyes still adverted

"I'm afraid I asked you first, Ms. DeLune"

"I--it doesn't matter", I realized. He untangled himself from me and I backed towards the door, "This is why you lied to me. I can say whatever I want but she will never let us be together. You were going to kill yourself to be with her."

"I was attempting to save you."

"There could have been another way, but she is always Lucie, your wife. Don't you remember that she choose my grandfather over you, she loved the man that killed you and still you honor her as your wife ? I can make choices too. I finally see what she saw all those years ago why she choose Grandpa. . . it's because you can't truly love anyone"

"Ms. DeLune--"

I lost it and threw my scotch glass onto the hard tile.

"You can't even call me by my fucking first name."

I stepped over the glass shutting the door behind me.




It was six in the morning and the sun had just barely come up, I knew I had to work quietly and quickly if I wanted to be as far away from London as I could by morning.

Rosalie slept, lost to the world in the lobby while I checked out the hotel and watched the bell man pack our simple belongings into the rental car. I had done my best to make the damaged room look as presentable as possible but  paying my credit card bills was the least of my worries.

I took another long sip of the thick black complimentary coffee. The note  had consider writing but didn't have the strengh to write kept running through my mind but I didn't have to explain myself to anyone, least of all him.

"All set, Ma'am", the bell man held the door open.

Once Rosalie was settled in the back seat I just started driving. For the first time I didn't know where I was going but somehow I knew it was safer. I knew I couldn't put myself through the impossible again.

After a while the city began to disappear and the sun started to shine. just driving by  the countryside was tranquil in it's own right. It was serene the sky was blue the grass was green everything was it should be.

I let the stress, guilt and whatever feelings had plagued me last night slip away. I opened the windows letting the breeze come through blowing away any tears that formed. From the rear view mirror I saw Rosalie stir. She slowly opened and rubber her eyes now realizing where she was.

She remained quiet, her gaze concentrating on the view outside. The road began to narrow but for as long as it would go on so would we.

Despite my need to move forward I pulled off at a small off-the-road coffee shop feeling the need for another black coffee.

"Isn't it beautiful, Rosalie ?", I asked looking around, "this is exactly the kind of place we need to be."

I didn't expect her to answer and she didn't. The shop was empty but Rosalie still stayed rather close to me. I sat outside to drink my coffee, the high of leaving was suddenly disappering. Rosalie began to wander off picking up wildflowers and weeds by the road.

If Victor was true to his words I couldn't protect Rosalie on my own, and I only had 48 hours.

I grabbed my phone and searched for the last number called. It seemed to endlessly ring until someone picked up.

"Clara", Peter's voice was calm.

"Peter, listen. I made a mistake leaving. . . Rosalie and I are coming back to Italy--"

"Clara I know something is wrong, I need you to be honest with me first."

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know the moment we get in from Edinburgh"

"Edinburgh ? What on earth are doing out there."

"Driving, getting perspective. I just realized I need to move on and I can't go back to Rochester. I want to be home. . . with you. Please tell me you will be waiting for me ?"

"I'll be waiting for both of you."

"Thank you, Peter."

"Anything, Clarabelle", he replied. I smiled slightly on the other end at his use of my nickname.

I looked up from my coffee to see Rosalie with her hands pressed to the car attempting to peer into the window, she was rather close to the road and I wanted warn her but for some reason I didn't have it in me.

"Mommy", Rosalie called to me.

She called me again still facing the car.

I walked behind her expecting something to be in the car but there was nothing except her car seat.

"Where's Ann ?", she asked pressing her hands against the glass.

I thought about how the bell man had packed the car and what a rush I had been in to pack. It probably didn't help that I had been slightly hungover. Had I thrown it in the trunk or maybe it had fallen out in the hurray I was in to leave.

I pulled open the trunk and started going through the luggage, Rosalie watched me carefully but I knew it was a lost cause.

"You left her", she said, her eyes brimming with tears, "You left her on purpose"

I thought "purpose" was a strange word for her to use, had I taught her that ?

"No I didn't.", I said remembering the doll was probably still curled up under the covers in the bed where Rosalie had slept.

"Please Mommy, please we have to go back."

"No, we have to be in Italy by the evening,"

I closed my eyes expecting a tantrum but she remained quiet. Her hands were still pressed to the galss and in the reflection I could see the tears falling from her eyes.

"Please Mommy, please", she begged, "Mommy we have to go back"

"Get in the car, Rosalie."

I moved her out the way to open the door but she walked away, standing in the middle of the street. I slammed the door hard and leaned on the car watching her.

"Rosalie I don't have time for this"

She didn't move and the last thing I needed was another bite mark. The air was filled with a low hum and in the distance I saw a black pick-up truck speeding down the road.

"Rosalie, a car is coming"

She dug her heels further into the ground. What if I did run out there and the car hit me ? Then what would happen to her ?

"Rosalie, please", I yelled to her.

I dropped my coffee and ran to the middle of the road, I could already hear the car's horn blaring while struggling to get Rosalie to move. The horn became louder and I heard the breaks screech just inches from where we were standing.

A group of confused teenagers got out of the pickup, I looked down at Rosalie and she seemed unusally calm.

"Take me back", she said again

"okay", I gave in.

Fear or  something else was causing all my nerves to stand  on end and I didn't dare try to decieve her. I hated going back the way I came everything that had felt so free before suddenly became restrictive.

To be sure I arranged for us to leave for Italy from London. I couldn't help but to think if Rosalie wasn't with me I would have never been here to start. . . if Rosalie really were to die would it matter if I left her somewhere alone ?

I checked my review mirror her glossed over red eyes peering back at me.

"Hurry, Mommy, Hurry"


I hesitated once I pulled a into a parking space merely blocks from the hotel. I took my time unfastening Rosalie and taking her hand. While she had won the argument I wanted her to see that I was not happy about it. She walked as fast as she could to the hotel entrance.

The desk clerk was off an afternoon break, a sign denoting when he would be back rest on the front desk.

"I guess we will have to wait--"

I turned to see Rosalie already climbing the stairs, begrudgingly I followed her up to the fourth floor. Once we were in front of the room I realized that it would probably be locked.

"It's locked"

"No it's not", she said

Frustrated I reached for the door and it clicked opened I moved in front of Rosalie an opened the door.

All the windows had been closed, the room had yet to even been turned over. I stepped inside and was met with the tall  figure of Mr. Fierro standing over the bed where just hours ago I had slept.

I set the rental keys on the table to make just enough noise for him to know I was there. He didn't seemed to be startled but didn't turn around.

"I thought you had left"

"I did" I said honestly

"And yet you have come back--"

"For my daughter's doll, that's it."

He stepped away from the bed, giving me the shortest of glances and made his way back through the door that adjoined the two rooms. I removed the coverings from the bed and turned the sheets over and there was no sign of Ann.

"Its not here"

"No", she protested.

"Just. . . keep looking"

I walked over to the adjoinig door which was still opened I knocked before entering. I could smell the pot of bitter tea brewing on the counter and walked past it, stepping over the shards of broken glass.

I stopped at the door frame of the bedroom.

"Have you seen the doll ?  It has a green and yellow dress"

"I don't have time for this Ms. DeLune"

"I know I shouldn't have just left", I said,"Though I meant every word I said."

"You should have left. What you shouldn't have done was comeback"

"Why do I feel as if there is something you aren't telling me."

" The fact that I am, as you say ,unable to love should makes what i have to stay that much easier. But first I must ask if there is also something you aren't telling me ?"

I heard Rosalie call me and I turned to see her in the kitchen she had crawled into one of the stools her eyes were still large with sadness over the doll. I picked her up and she rested her head on my shoulder.

"It's okay I'll buy you another one.", I set her on the floor. "Wait for me in the other room, okay ?"

I waited until she was in the room before I slighly closed the door. He must have sensed I was still there and silently offered me a tea cup while he took the other. I waited for him to take a sip before  I nervously drank it, it was less bitter but still didn't taste any better.

"Before I leave", I started, "I should at least tell you that--"

"It was wrong of me to continue as I did last night. . . knowing what I know."

I was startled to think there was more he was keeping from me.

"What do you know ?"

"Victor is not going to kill your daughter, I. .  ."

His words left off there and I stopped listening. I started coughing till I realized that I was really gasping for air. I fell backwards off the stool slamming into the tile. My hands had insticlty gone to my throat the tea now burning me inside and out.  I looked towards the door, trying to call for Rosalie to help me.

He stood over me, stoic and silent.

"You", I was able to make out, "You poisoned me"