Chapter 4 - THE GHOST IN THE MIRROR
I excused myself from the glittering crowd,
the noise of the violinists fading as I entered the quiet sanctuary of the ladies' lounge.
The room was empty,
a luxurious space of gilded mirrors and plush velvet seating.
I walked to the vanity,
resting my hands on the cold marble,
staring at my reflection.
The woman looking back at me was a stranger.
Her eyes were cold,
calculating,
and devoid of the warmth that had defined her for forty years.
I did not hate this stranger,
I welcomed her.
She was the shield I needed to survive the storm that was coming.
The heavy wooden door opened behind me,
and the soft click of designer heels echoed on the tile.
In the mirror,
I watched Victoria enter,
her green dress rustling like dry leaves.
She stopped,
leaning against the counter,
unafraid of the silence.
"Are you going to cry,
Evelyn?"
she asked,
her voice dripping with mock sympathy.
"Or are you going to pretend everything is fine,
as you always do?"
I did not turn around,
I kept my eyes fixed on her reflection.
"I am not going to cry,
Victoria."
She laughed,
a high,
brittle sound that scraped against my nerves.
"Grant doesn't love you anymore,
he hasn't for a long time."
"He tells me you are nothing but a ghost in his house,
a weight he has been dragging around for convenience."
"And now,
I am his future."
I turned slowly,
confronting her directly,
my posture perfect.
"You think you are his future,
because he bought you a ring with my daughter's college fund?"
Victoria's smile faltered,
just for a fraction of a second,
before she recovered her composure.
"I don't care where the money came from,"
she sneered.
"The point is,
he chose me over your precious family."
"He stole from his own child,
Victoria,"
I said,
my voice deadly quiet,
unshaken.
"If he can steal from the girl he raised,
what do you think he will do to you?"
"He loves me,"
she insisted,
though her voice lacked its previous certainty.
"He would never hurt me,
my father controls his entire career."
I stepped closer to her,
until I could smell her sweet,
cloying perfume.
"Your father controls his current career,"
I corrected her.
"But Grant is a desperate man,
and desperate men make fatal mistakes."
"Enjoy the ring tonight,
my dear."
"Because tomorrow,
the bill comes due."
I walked past her,
not waiting for her response,
May you like
leaving her alone with her own reflection in the silent,
gilded room.
