OPHELIA: Chapter 7

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 7

Elizabeth paced around her office. She couldn’t focus. Her mind circulated many thoughts. Her gut was warning her that something was terribly wrong. She couldn’t even grieve the loss of Monty. The only man who loved her like a father would after her biological father died. He was a brother, a father, an uncle, and a friend, all in one and she was unable to express the pain she felt towards his death. He died because of her and she would never forgive herself.

Her hand clutched onto her cellphone as she sucked in her breath. She just needed to hear their voices. Just one. Just once more. Her heartbeat drummed in sync with the numbers dialed. Just when she thought there was no answer, the frail soft voice of a woman answered. It always reminded her of honey.

“Hello?” The woman answered again.

Elizabeth felt her voice was trapped within her throat yet managed a faint reply.

“Ma Chérie?” The woman’s voice swayed, breathless, to the sound of Elizabeth’s.

“Rosie,” was all Elizabeth could manage while feeling her voice and heart crack simultaneously. Rosie Pierre-Louis was the wife of Valentin Pierre-Louis who lived at the manor back in Wisconsin. And quite frankly, she was the only woman who lives in that place who’d shown her kindness and any sort of feminine affection. After the death of her family, Monty Pierre-Louis took her in as his own, as he was her father’s dearest friend. 

“Oh ma chérie, it’s been so long. Are you alright? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you happy?”

“Rosie I- how is everyone?”

A short pause filled the air.

“The devil’s shadow seems to be hovering above our home, my dear. First Monty and now-”

“And?” Elizabeth sucked in her breath, shocked at the addition of information.

“Claire Marie has gone missing since yesterday. It’s madness, the tragedy of Monty, and now this. Valentin and I wanted you here for the funeral, but we didn’t know your contact nor where to find you.”

The news of Claire Marie’s disappearance shattered her heart. She was only a child of three when Elizabeth came into the manor and nine when she left. She felt unable to speak but tried to nonetheless, “Have the police been informed?”

“Yes, and they are doing their best but you know how unsettled her mother can be.” Rosie’s voice hushed into the phone as she continued, “If I were able to bear a child and that was my daughter I would have the whole town plastered in her photos but my darling sister-in-law thinks it’s best if it remains a family matter. We’ve all since been praying.”   

“I will too. She will return home safely.” Elizabeth tried to convince herself. God help her that no harm should come to the child. After Rosie ended the call, she hoped that it wasn’t because of her. She hoped that no one lay a finger on Claire Marie because of the sin in which she committed ten years ago.

The day had been torturous, and home felt like where she needed to be. Elizabeth’s hands remained clenched on the wheel as she parked the car in the garage. She noticed a strange vehicle parked at the front driveway of the house and Sebastian’s car had already been pulled in. She hadn’t even realized how late it’d been since the meeting at work had run one-hour overtime. The sky was painted into a dusty old black with grey clouds staining its canvas. Nothing about this day had been very attractive to her as constant worry about Claire Marie had been infecting her peace.

Distant chattering and laughter could be heard through the hall which lead into the living room. A sudden sense of uneasiness drifted through Elizabeth as she made her way toward the sound. Her dark hair cascaded down to her lower spine in soft gentle swirls after pulling off the baby pink Chanel jacket. Her white chiffon blouse which was tucked into her skirt flowed gracefully as she walked. It felt like an endless trail toward the room and with every step her heart paced a little more. The grey in her eyes lost a little of its sparkle from the day, but she assured herself that she still maintained her charm to host Sebastian’s guest even if she didn’t like it one bit.

Entering the living room, the image before her made her heart stop.

Her ex sat on the sofa with his hand placed over this strange woman’s lap, while Sebastian sat opposite them. Her husband’s attention turned towards her with a welcoming smile. “Ah, this is my wife Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth’s eyes remained fixed upon the creature before her that oozed his filthy presence all over her good sofa. He locked his gaze with hers clearly very shocked, and opened his mouth slightly to say something but shut it instantaneously, unable to speak.

“This is Christopher Cane and his fiancée Kristen Smith.” Sebastian continued as she neared him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Elizabeth lied, yet kept her calm demeanor while shaking the man’s hand as well as his future wife’s as well. She felt a sense of ease swim through her body knowing that her attraction toward this man had died within her. All that remained was disgust, not hatred because she knew better than to hate a man who didn’t even deserve to have a place in her thoughts in the first place. She hadn’t told Sebastian anything about her past although they lived together for the past four years, so he had no idea who Christopher was to her. His fiancée sat with that fake smile plastered upon her face. Of course, they must all be nice and chummy, it was up to Sebastian of course to give her husband that position. Elizabeth wondered what they’d really be like if Sebastian didn’t hold that power. The sound of crashing thunder broke the silence and Kristen fidgeted slightly in her seat.

“Weather’s disastrous out there, isn’t it?” Elizabeth smiled amusingly. She always loved how poetic a storm can be. This situation could be quite interesting after all.

“Terrible,” Christopher shrugged and shook his head, placing his attention back on Sebastian, “We are so grateful for you to accommodate us like this. Truly.”

She almost rolled her eyes at his words, knowing him too well, for putting on the most amiable mannerism to those around him. Of course, it was nothing but a pretense, for the depth of a man’s beauty internally and externally may sometimes be nothing but an illusion, and what shall appear to be a vast lake from afar soon turns out to be a shallow stream.  

“I’ll get you some refreshments,” Elizabeth stated and made her way towards the kitchen. She was oddly calm about this and she wasn’t sure if her numbness was due to the events and information of her day now settling within her. A bouquet of fresh flowers and dark chocolates sat atop the island.

“I shouldn’t have behaved in such a manner with you last night. It was a selfish decision.” Sebastian’s voice rang behind her. She didn’t turn to face him, instead stood stroking the soft petals of the flowers.

“Your decision is still made, is it not? The proof is in your house, in the living room.”

“Let me make this up to you.”

“No, no need. I’m no saint anyway.” She finally turned and smiled, “I’ll allow them in. For you.”

Nodding, he went back to the guests and she returned a few minutes later with coffee, tea, and biscuits, placing them on the table.

“Oh, he can’t have dairy, he’s lactose intolerant,” Kristen protested on behalf of her fiancé.

This was something Elizabeth already knew. “No worries, it’s vegan,” she lied in delight.

 “And the coffee, he doesn’t drink-”

“There’s no sugar in his coffee.” She answered quite annoyed, “The sugar is placed at the side, you may add as you please.”

Kristen gouged down in such gluttony. This startled Elizabeth a bit but also humored her at the same time. Her mannerisms were quite unpleasant, she’d imagine Kristen to be the type of teenage girl to own a pet rat and bathe only once a day if not asked by her mother twice. Yet, money is what seemed to keep this young woman afloat judging by her red bottoms and Gucci bag. Daddy’s money. And that is what made her understand why Christopher was marrying her. Not to say she was that bad looking, she was quite a beauty but her effort to maintain such seem to be more of a dire attempt and in Elizabeth’s opinion, harshly overdone.   

Sebastian hired the services of a butler to assist who had shortly arrived. While Sebastian continued to instruct him on his job criteria, Kristen made her way upstairs to the guest bedroom which was shown to her previously while Christopher remained downstairs. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow and mirrored that fake plastered smile his wife had been throwing around so carelessly.

“I’ve come here solely for business. I have no ill intent.”

“Ah.” She amused herself with the frustration within his voice. It must be killing him to be in the position he was in now. “I love when you just pull out the victim act. The lion wrapped in sheep’s wool. Your innocence is moving, truly.”

“This is all in your head, Elizabeth. It always has been.”

Elizabeth never felt more disgusted by the man before her in her life. It was one thing that he was here, but to come here and continue to gaslight her like that was beyond her. He’d always make her feel crazy in the past. He’d manipulate and hurt her and not take responsibility for his own actions. He was nothing but a narcissist. 

“Understand something clearly,” she whispered heatedly, “This is my house. You’ll speak to me with a little more respect if you want this position. Understood?”

She didn’t wait for his answer. She didn’t care. She said what needed to be said, and she made her way elsewhere. She had more relevant matters to tend to.

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