OPHELIA: Chapter 43

Blurb

Elizabeth Lockwick wants one thing… to ensure Ophelia remains dead.

For years she’s weaved a life seen through rose-coloured glasses in idyllic Vermont with her husband Sebastian Lockwick, an alluring man with a broken moral compass, whose intent lies in protecting his wife. However, apart from her unorthodox understanding of Sebastian’s dark and gritty hidden nature, she finds herself slipping away from her sanity in maintaining this picturesque life.

After receiving a gruesome gift from an unknown sender threatening to expose her, she finds herself haunted and possibly hunted by her buried past.

In order to make things right for herself and ensure that her secret is hidden, she reluctantly travels back to her sleepy small hometown in Wisconsin. A town where young girls seem to be mysteriously disappearing. There, she reunites with the dysfunctional Pierre-Louis’, a French-American family who sheltered her in their manor in her time of need.

With time slipping away, she struggles with her guilt and a dangerous affair and realizes that perhaps Ophelia wasn’t dead after all these years.

Elizabeth suddenly finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse, unsure of which she really is this time and who she can trust.

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Chapter 43

 

“Ophelia,” Florence stopped her as she was about to ascend the staircase, “Do you believe it was an unfortunate circumstance as the police said?”

She looked at the woman who sat on the sofa in a blank solemn state, perplexed. “Sorry?”

“I mean,” Florence rephrased herself, “The fire.”

It was a question that had plagued Ophelia’s mind too many times too often. She always tried to brush it away. She always tried to believe it was an ‘unfortunate circumstance’ as the town’s authority said just to bring herself peace but she knew that was far from the truth.

“Why do you ask that?”

Florence tilted her head back after taking her sip of whisky. “Because,” she said in a shallow breath, “They said that the fire ignited due to a faulty hair iron.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Your mother didn’t own one, Ophelia.”

This sent a cold chill down her spine. Had- had someone intentionally murdered her family? Her parents were good people as far as she knew, or at least she wanted to believe. How much did Ophelia really know about them? What would they have been like if they were alive with her today? So many things were happening all at once. She couldn’t keep up.

Florence’s phone suddenly rang, and she brought it to her ears. She seemed to be upset.

“What’s wrong?”

“Victor said they’re not releasing Stefan on bail.”

“What? That’s ridiculous, they can’t make that decision like that without proper evidence.”

“Not as ridiculous as Stefan not wanting to be bailed out,” Florence scowled. “He’s ruining his own reputation.”

Ophelia paused. He doesn’t want to be bailed out. But why? Stefan wouldn’t make that decision so rashly. What’s going on in his mind? What wasn’t he telling her?

“You’ve lived with him for so many years,” Florence suddenly stated, “Go down to the station tomorrow and convince him that he’s being foolish.”

Her words caught Ophelia by surprised. They all must have thought they stayed together all these years. They hadn’t known. How could they have anyway?

“All these years,” she spoke softly to Florence, “We weren’t together. We only came here…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. The thought of that distance always pained her.

“Then you’re both bigger fools that I thought,” Florence scowled.

Ophelia walked into his room and sank to the foot of his bed, feeling her heart fall with her simultaneously. The emptiness was torturing and made her realize how much she wanted to be near to him. Separating again was not an option to her. Florence, though rough, was absolutely right. They were fools.

She could have still smelt his fading scent drifting in the empty room. The cold hugged onto her and clamped onto her bare skin. The window was left open, the bed slightly tousled. And as much as she just wanted to wash her pain away with a few tears, she couldn’t because she felt as if she had already used them all up. She had to trust him. Stefan knew what he was doing. He knew what his rights were. He knew how to stand up for himself. He wouldn’t refuse to be bailed out if he did not have a solid reason. But why? What was the reason? What was on his mind? What did he know that he couldn’t share with her?

A sudden knock on the door brought her back to attention. Sally stood politely at the door. Concern was dripping from her features. “I was searching for you.”

Ophelia was tired. She stood and inhaled a shaky breath. She felt terrible that this poor girl had to be dragged into her life. She needed to get her out of this place and somewhere safe with her husband Frank before anyone links a connection between them again and causes harm. The sooner Charlie got back to her, the better. She’ll even pay a person to ensure their safety. This felt like her responsibility and she was willing and determined to fulfill it.

“I haven’t gotten word from Charlie yet about Frank but I can assure you Charlie is someone you can trust and he’ll handle the situation. Frank is in good hands with him there.”

“I’m sure,” Sally said uneasily.

“What’s wrong?” Ophelia asked, noticing the girl’s discomfort.  

“I’m sorry, I was looking for you and I overheard part of your conversation with Stefan’s mother. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.”

“It’s alright, I’m here now.”

Sally took a shallow sigh. I’m sorry- about what happened to you, to your family. I know we must barely even know each other. I know I’m just a stranger and I might not even know you that well but- but I still consider you my friend, and I care about you. If it’s one thing Frank made me understand is his clients with trauma. And I just think that,” she paused for a moment, perhaps pondering upon her words, “I just think that you seem to be holding a lot in.”

“Sally, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”

“No Elizabeth- I mean- Ophelia,” she corrected herself quickly, “I’m sorry that all that happened to you, I didn’t know, I had no idea about your parents and you being here and all these people, god knows who wants to harm you. It confuses me, yes, but also makes me realize how much I want to support you and be there for you.”

“You don’t have to, I put your family’s life in enough danger.”

Sally entered the room nervously and headed to the windowsill, “Why are these people after you? Why do they wish to harm you so much?”

“Because they won’t understand.”

Sally turned to face her friend. Ophelia’s face was pale and tired. A weary, sleepless, taint glazed over her skin. Her eyes looked heavy and the bags beneath were begging to be placed down to rest. There was an unsettledness to them, that sparkle in her eyes flickered with a dim, almost like a dying firefly taking its last breath. She had seemed skinnier since last time she saw her. Her face was drawn in, further highlighting her bone structure yet carefully not taking away any of her beauty. There was a certain grace to her that remained attached to her misery and mood.

“Had you ever come to terms with it?” Sally suddenly asker her.

“Come to terms with what?”

“The passing of your family?”

Ophelia thought about her question. Had she? To be quite honest, she didn’t think that she did. To be very honest, Ophelia had been trying to do everything in her power to prevent herself from dwelling too much on it.

“I know it’s not my place to say anything about it or to advise you in any regard, I know how sensitive that topic could be for you,” Sally stated, “But I just feel like I should tell you if you’ll allow me. It’s just that you don’t look so well, you’ve changed since the last time I saw you and it’s concerning.”

Ophelia stopped her, “Please don’t feel bad, you can speak freely. You came all the way here, and put your life in danger, even leaving your husband behind just to warn me. It’s the least I can do for you, Sally. Please tell me what you have to say.”

Sally leaned against the wall and faced her, she rubbed her palms together slightly anxious as she spoke. “Frank used to tell me most of his patients prolong their sufferings unknowingly and this is because they can never truly face the root of their troubles because they find it too painful.”

Ophelia listened to her words swirl through her ears like sharp honest knives. It was all true what she was saying. She was too much a coward to face the reality of what had happened to her. Maybe that’s why she tried to change who she was, maybe that’s why she contented herself into living in this imaginary life. All she was doing was running away from her own reality and that was the saddest part of it all. A sick sort of anxious feeling swirled tornadoes within the pits of her stomach. It was all true.

“I don’t know,” she whispered to herself, “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Hey,” Sally stooped near her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I’m here with you now, okay? I can help you. I know I’m no psychologist like Frank but I learnt a lot from him, about trauma, about people, about how I can possibly help.”

Ophelia felt like her world was already empty, she didn’t have much to lose. Maybe taking the help wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe it could truly be the first step in dealing and healing her past, that infectious wound that she pretended wasn’t there for far too long. Maybe now was the time to take care of that, to take care of herself instead of always bleeding on everyone she ever loved.

“What do you think would help?” She asked.

“You mentioned that it started with a fire, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s start there,” Sally concluded.

**

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