Truth: Book Two of the Taboo Series

by Brittany Chapman

  She wasn’t much older than me but married. The top of her head barely reached my chin. She had exceptionally long, bushy hair and a boyish figure that made her appear much younger.

  She smiled with her head tilted and eyes full of adoration. I had the sudden urge to finish bending her neck with a quick twist.

  I stepped back to focus as an outsider. Mother waved William into the house. He threw a curious glance over his shoulder in my direction. I glanced away as anger began to creep into my vision.

  As everyone scurried inside I was left with Father on the front lawn. He watched the blue Cadillac pull around into the garage and eyed me suspiciously. I never could hide much from Father.

  “I'm a bit nervous,” I admitted, barely recognizing my own voice. I changed the subject, “Mother seems... different.”

  He laughed deeply and his growing belly jiggled like Santa’s. “William was young the last time Elizabeth got to see him. Even as a tiny child he was as protective of her as an older brother would have been. I think she's excited to be able to take care of him for a change.”

  I dragged my feet as I followed Father into the house. We found Mother pacing impatiently in the den. She had pulled her hair back into its usual French braid, but it was loose and wisps of it escaped. I watched from the entrance as Father embraced her.

  My parents were never the love-story stereotype. Most days I wondered if Mother even loved Father. She never reached for him the way I saw women do their husbands at restaurants. She never seemed to need anything from him, but he always looked as if he would catch her if she fell. He would do anything for her without a thought.

  In their private moment, I finally saw tenderness in Mother. It simply looked like weakness to me.

  ✷✴✷

  I sat on the bench at the end of the path in the large cove with the fountain. I watched the sputtering water and the rainbows of petals dance in the warm air. The sun dipped low, the colors in the sky bland compared to the living sunset around me.

  Dinner had seemed to go on for hours. Mother and Father talked happily to William and he returned conversation with moderate hesitation.

  I could tell he was uncomfortable sitting next to me. We each kept our elbows as tight against ourselves as possible while still managing to pick through our meal.

  Mother excused herself to finish some of the paperwork for a new store she was opening and I grabbed the chance to escape. William's and Father's eyes had burned into me as I tried to walk calmly out of the side door.

  I had no intention of being rude but knew I had to get myself together before holding a conversation with the man.

  I hoped I was being paranoid. Perhaps he was a kind person, but I couldn't make myself believe it. He was too polite- too much like Mother already.

  His eyes seemed too curious. I was sure it was all a ploy. He was waiting for the right opportunity.

  I laid across the bench and pulled a tiny, pink orchid from above my head. I played with its soft petals, wondering what life must have been like for them to turn into such venomous people.

  My eyes unfocused as I allowed myself daydream about what it would have been like to have a loving mother, and to have been a good enough daughter to deserve one.

  I snapped my eyes open. The stars above me winked as though they knew a hilarious secret. I was startled by how dark my surroundings were. I must have fallen asleep.

  I looked down as I realized my hand was mounded over something soft. It wasn’t the tiny pink orchid, crushed from my nap, but a large white rose. The thorns had been pulled sweetly as to not prick me.

  I looked at the rose and my heart thudded in my chest, not with excitement but in warning. If it had been either of my parents they would have awakened me. Mother would have chastised me and Father would have gently helped me to bed.

  I sat up quickly, bewildered. The servants all knew they weren't allowed in my garden. It was the one thing Father had granted me from the moment I was able to tend to the flowers myself.

  The thundering of my heart was sickening. Is this the beginning? I wanted to throw the beautiful flower away and not let myself get tricked.

  My fingers couldn’t seem to let go of it. I had never been given a flower by anyone. Maybe it was superstitious, but the fact that it had been a white rose made me swallow a strange warmth that was too difficult to assess.

  I hurried through the grounds of the estate into the house, carrying the flower close. The lights were dimmed as though everyone had been asleep for a long time.

  I ran on tip-toes up the stairs and had one hand on my bedroom door when I noticed a light under the door down the hall. The room next to mine was one of our many guest rooms, but a shadow showed someone pacing.

  I crept toward the door and put my ear to it. The pacing stopped. The person was directly in front of the door as though listening quietly themselves.

  “Don't disturb him.” I jumped and turned to stare at Mother as though she could hear my thoughts, worried she would burn me at the stake. She smiled genuinely. “Let him rest, you can get to know him tomorrow.”

  She led me to my room and sat on the edge of my bed. She watched as I nervously stroked the petals of my rose.

  I went to my bathroom and took a small crystal vase from under my sink. It had belonged to Father’s late mother and had always been one of my most cherished possessions.

  I filled it and put the rose on my nightstand. I knew I should get rid of it but couldn't control my movements.

  “Mother, why did you never see your brother for years if you two were so close?” I asked, watching her eyes. I was always talented at knowing people's small ticks and tells- when they were being sincere or when they were lying.

  Her eyes dropped to her hands. She wanted to tell me but the way her eyes flashed when she lifted her head told me she wouldn't out of protection.

  I had never seen such softness in her. I felt like a little girl wanting her mommy to take her into her lap. I controlled myself.

  “We don't like to talk about it,” she said softly. I worried I had pulled her into the dark part of herself and had ruined the happiness she possessed. However, she kissed me on my head, something she hadn't done for years, and told me she loved me.

  I knew my parents loved me, but it was always Father who expressed it. I watched her leave the room, unsure of the personality she was exuding. I didn't know if I should be wary or relieved.

  I readied for bed and laid in the dark, the moonlight too bright through my closed curtains. I stared at the flower. It seemed to stare back.

  I lay for a long time trying to fall asleep. I told myself that my rest in the garden had ruined the chances and ignored the thoughts of William. I knew I was beginning to drown in an abyss of slow and torturous obsession.

  I was listening for Mother, William, and the rest of my demons creeping around trying to capture me.

  As I felt my body slowly succumb to the sleep I heard the soft sound of feet on the hallway floor outside, like someone barefooted trying to be discreet.

  I listened as the sound stopped outside of my door. I almost called out but was terrified of the voices that might respond.

  I cried silently. I was imagining things. I was getting worse. After a while, the sobs slowed and the imaginary feet outside of my door receded.

  Chapter 3- Willow

  I woke feeling sluggish as the sun began to peek over the trees. I dragged my miserable self to the shower and promised to stay there until I either felt human or the hot water ran out.

  I rinsed the conditioner from my hair when I saw through the glass shower wall as the bathroom door flew open. I caught myself before falling on the slick tile in shock.

  Mother bounced into the room. I groaned.

  Go away, I thought to myself.

  “Put yourself together real nice today, we're having a party tonight,” she squealed. What was wrong with the woman- planning parties the day of, smiling, and being happy?

  Where is my
mother?

  Resigned, I turned off the water. I did enjoy Mother's parties. It was easy to sneakily grab a glass of champagne and disappear into the hoard of people, knowing no one would notice me.

  I didn't want Mother to snap back into her usual self so I attempted to get myself out of the bathroom as quickly as possible. I expected her to be waiting, ready to pounce for not being obedient fast enough.

  I looked around at my empty bedroom, not sure of what to do without being chastised so late in the morning. The day had begun so strangely.

  I felt like I had never seen my belongings before as I picked through combs on my vanity. I took as long as I could setting my hair, doing my makeup in soft colors, and trying to find the best dress.

  It was best to stay hidden until it was time to greet guests to avoid ruining anything as I usually did with my presence.

  At lunchtime, Hannah carried a small tray with a cucumber sandwich and almonds into the room. Men's voices drifted from downstairs. I peered out the window to see an army of decorators.

  Already the lawn was transformed with small tables and chairs. A stage was being built and grand torches placed about.

  I glared as a figure walked from the garden. The man wasn’t working, he was strolling idly. I prayed no one touched my flowers- especially not my roses.

  “I have something for you,” Mother sang.

  I spun, not recognizing her voice when it was so chipper. She held up a long, flowing white gown. The floating, thin layers danced around a sleeveless cut. I stared in awe at the gorgeous gift.

  “It's beautiful,” I gasped, knowing it was not something Mother would have ordinarily picked for me. I looked carefully at her own gown, a layered dress much like the white one she had for me, but in a dark gray-blue. “That color compliments your eyes,” I noted aloud. She beamed at me and I hesitated to move.

  I suddenly felt guilty for my harsh thoughts from the morning. I loved seeing her so happy. Mother looked ten years younger.

  She settled into my room and asked me to curl her hair. I pinned back the front to keep it out of her face. She rushed down the hall and returned with a pair of glinting diamond studs.

  I never knew how much I had needed those small moments I had so far been denied. We talked, laughed, and did our makeup happily with each other.

  She didn’t criticize but instead helped me. She taught me how to use the eyelash curler, something I had always had an irrational fear of, and she showed me how to spritz perfume into the air and glide through it.

  I held back the tears that would ruin my makeup as I realized my daydreams were finally coming true. Maybe I had finally done something to deserve such a wonderful moment.

  Mother rarely wore makeup, and perfume was something she usually thought of as unnecessary, but in that moment I felt like a normal girl with a normal mother. Though I had always pondered about what I had missed it almost didn't feel real.

  The happy thoughts in my head halted as I watched Mother in the vanity mirror. Behind us through the open door stood William, frozen and watching us.

  Not us. Me.

  He wasn’t trying to hide. It seemed as though he’d gotten stuck. He wore a black suit with his disorderly curls as beautiful as the day before. He was the picture of perfection.

  Evil came in such pretty packages.

  “William,” Mother cried with pleasure, noticing him too.

  It looked as though it took every part of his being to rip his eyes away from mine and put a happy expression on his face. He stepped into the room tentatively, as though expecting the carpet to become lava.

  Don't anger them, I thought as I stared at Mother, hoping she wouldn't see my fear.

  “You don't have to go to so much trouble, Elizabeth,” he told her. His voice was hushed with embarrassment. She turned beside me on the bench and held out her hands for his.

  He glanced at me as he gently pulled her up. She stood at the exact height of him, yet she stroked his hair as though he were a small child.

  He politely voiced his discomfort with all the fuss of the party, the expense of it, and the number of strangers that would attend. I watched in the glass of my mirror, trying to pretend I wasn’t there. Anytime his eyes switched to me I would pretend to be readying myself, preening and pinning up my curls, blotting my face, anything.

  I was surprised when I glanced up to find Mother had left the room. He stared at me again, his face as terrified as my own.

  “I'm sorry if I woke you up last night.” Confusion tilted my head before I realized what he meant. My body began to numb as I stared at him in shock. “I-,” he continued, trying to find the right words. “Wanted to wish you a good night,” he mumbled.

  I bit back any words that might have sprung out in anger, reliving the night before in my head. The imaginary demon had a name.

  He glanced around the room as though trying to find something to talk about. His eyes fell on the rose. The rich brown brightened as his lips parted in surprise.

  He met my gaze as the heat rose in my cheeks. He watched me blush as he seemed to fill with amusement and pride.

  He nodded slightly to himself and turned to leave the room, not saying another word. He paused at the door to throw me one quick look of satisfaction before leaving.

  The meaning behind the rose was proven in that second. The looks, the discomfort, and the atmosphere of the day before all seemed to blur together in front of me as I thought back to every moment. The fear of William in my head was beginning to sink lower as the fleeting emotions I had suppressed crashed through me.

  I slumped down onto the bed, unsure of myself. Had he seen something in my face that had made him want to test me?

  I must have glanced at him for too long, admiring his features and weighing the threat of him. I was positive he was yet another evil villain in my life. There was no way he could have done it innocently. The terror of him was overwhelming.

  He was simply another person to make me loathe my life. He would hurt me as Mother did. I was sure. It must have been a test to see exactly how messed up and undeserving I was.

  I groaned as I thought about my pathetic reaction. I had said nothing. The heat had risen in my face and he witnessed it all.

  Was he going to tell Mother? Would they come at me together, enjoying the teamwork of tearing me apart? I hung my head and battled my emotions, reminding myself of the eye makeup I would ruin.

  I felt any power I pretended to possess over my own life slipping away into the claw of this stranger.

  ✷✴✷

  I held my spine rigid as guests began to trickle onto the estate. I expected at any moment for Mother to give me the look that would tell me there were consequences whenever the next private moment could be found.

  I watched in terror as William's shy and uncomfortable demeanor turned before my eyes into more daring glances in my direction. Was he wondering if Mother had already spoken with me? Was he watching to see if bruises were forming?

  Strangely though, the curiosity in his face soon began melting away into worry as the party began to swell. I escaped the moment the guests overwhelmed Mother and Father but tried not to run and draw attention to myself.

  As I glanced over my shoulder before slipping through the back door, I saw William's eyes on me. His face appeared almost pained. I shook my head and made my way through the bodies of familiar strangers to my place of peace and comfort.

  I watched from afar under the willow by our pond as the sun died on the horizon. From the top of the hill, I could see all of our guests swarming around one another.

  Waiters passed through the crowds as guests laughed and sparkled. The small orchestra on the stage played song after song. Father spun Mother and pulled her close. Too many couples spilled in and out of my garden.

  The milling about looked like another world. The sounds drifting towards me and the smells of the food all lulled me into a deep reverie. I never minded the parties but that one was different.

 
I didn’t get to merely escape. I observed. The one person I shouldn’t have been watching for kept coming into view.

  He politely shook off the twelfth woman to approach him. A few had been more difficult. He had been forced to literally run away from one in particular. She had tried to run her hand up his chest and leaned in to whisper something that made him blush. The sight made me laugh loud enough to not care if I drew the attention of the party.

  Even from this distance, one could tell William didn’t belong with those people. The way he held himself was not with an air of self-importance. The confidence with which he walked was appealing, yet he did not look as though he thought of himself as an American royal as most of the high-class socialites did.

  He sidled into the house through the crowded side door, trying to be invisible. I waited for a long time but didn’t see him re-emerge into the masses.

  I leaned against the low branches of the willow and sighed. I turned to stare across the still water of the pond. William would eventually meet a wife, probably at one of the parties or functions that my parents always seemed to throw. He would get married and I would watch his happily ever possibly become my freedom. He was remarkably handsome, almost sinfully so.

  The thought of him finding one of the women below me appealing churned a mixture of poisonous emotions in my gut. I tried to decipher them and pull the rawest feeling I didn’t recognize away from the other, more understandable ones.

  I tried to examine my thoughts, wondering why I would feel a tinge of jealousy at the thought of him falling in love. Apprehension washed over me. I couldn't become attached to the enemy. I wondered if the gifted rose had been part of a plan to make me trust him.

  I thought back to his reaction of seeing the rose. I forced myself to think of him as hateful and ugly. It proved to be a difficult task. Something in my being doubted his venom.

  Darkness consumed the bleeding sky. Soft footsteps neared from behind me. I looked over my shoulder. My heart plummeted,