Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
JENNY
I don’t even realize when I fall asleep again after Zack leaves, but when I finally come to, I’m met with a gentle murmur of voices around me. My head feels heavy, throbbing with a dull ache, and it takes a few moments for the room to come into focus. I blink, and the familiar face of Mrs. Finnigan, the housekeeper, leans over me, her warm hand brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
“Oh, Jenny, sweetheart,” she says softly, her voice full of relief. “We’ve all been so worried about you.”
I shift slightly, feeling the ache radiate through me, not just from my fall but from the heaviness that’s settled in my chest. Mrs. Finnigan’s hand stays on my forehead, her fingers gentle and warm. I try to give her a small smile, but it barely holds together.
As my eyes adjust, I realize that the room is filled with familiar faces…Mr. Collins, the butler, standing at the doorway with his usual quiet presence; Auntie Mae, the cook, sitting beside me with her hand on my shoulder; even a few of the younger maids lingering just beyond the door, all of them watching with expressions of worry and relief. They’re all here, surrounding me, their faces filled with concern.
“You gave us all quite the scare,” Auntie Mae murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. She pats my shoulder gently, like she always does when she thinks I need comforting. “You have to be careful, love.”
Mr. Collins nods from the doorway, his usual stoic expression softened. “We’re just glad to see you awake and all right,” he says quietly. “Just… please, take care of yourself.”
Their kindness wraps around me, warm and soft, almost like a real family. They don’t know what I was really planning, don’t know the darkness I was slipping into. I wonder where the letter is… where it fell. I hope no one ever finds it. But it worries me that they might have, so I try to get up to find it, but they don’t let me.
“No, no, no more movements for you,” Mrs. Finnigan says. “You’re staying in bed for the foreseeable future, resting.”
I try to work up a smile, but all it does is send shame prickling up my spine, knowing that they all care so deeply, while I was willing to throw it all away. I nod slightly, feeling my heart twist as each of them takes turns speaking, their voices gentle, almost like a chorus of quiet, loving scolding.
My father steps forward, clearing his throat. I can see the lines of worry etched on his face, and it breaks my heart all over again. He doesn’t deserve this; none of them do. “Jenny, love,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “I’m really glad you’re okay, but for once there’s a silver lining to you wanting to give me a heart attack.”
I frown at his words, wondering what he’s talking about. He explains, “You’ve been given a chance. Paris. A fresh start.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice croaking. My throat is so dry. Instantly, he reaches for the jug of water by my side, fills up a glass for me, then hands it over.
“Apparently, in all the commotion of Mr. Jackson…Zack..finding you and bringing you here, one of their guests noticed you. She thinks you’d make the perfect house model for her daughter’s fashion company in Paris. You’ll be abroad, and you can attend an English-speaking school if you want as well. You’ll be there for three years, and then you can come back. You’ll also be able to take the time to travel around Europe. This is wonderful, isn’t it?”
I stare at him.
Yes, it is wonderful, but… Brett.
Once again, he’s sending me away, but at least it’s not to a farm. I turn my head away and shut my eyes. By the time I return, Brett will probably no longer be available. I would likely have missed my chance. Well, I can’t do what I had felt so distraught enough to do earlier, so I guess I have no choice but to bear it.
“Jenny,” Mrs. Finnigan beams, her face lighting up. “Aren’t you so happy? This is amazing! Just think, Jenny! You’ll be off to see the world! Paris! It’s such a great chance for such a young, gorgeous girl. You’ll do great, sweetheart.”
The room fills with gentle laughter, murmurs of encouragement, their voices weaving together, wrapping me in warmth. They’re all so happy for me, so relieved that I’m safe and that I have this new opportunity. But deep inside, I feel a hollowness growing, a quiet sorrow that none of them can reach.
I force myself to nod, to give them the smile they want to see, but inside, I feel as if I’m already fading, slipping away from everything I know.
Auntie Mae squeezes my shoulder. “You’ll have the chance to be someone, Jenny. To make us all proud.” Her voice is soft, warm, and her hand lingers there, like she’s offering me all the strength she has. I can see the brightness in her eyes, the hope she’s holding onto for me, and it makes something deep inside me tighten, a bittersweet ache I can’t shake.
I look around the room, at all these people who have loved me like family, who’ve watched me grow up, who’ve been there for every scraped knee and tear-filled day. They’ve seen me at my best and at my most foolish, and yet they still look at me now like I’m someone worth caring about, worth supporting. Mrs. Finnigan, with her gentle, motherly ways; Mr. Collins, ever so formal but steady as a rock; Auntie Mae, who’s filled every gap in my heart with her warm meals and even warmer hugs. I see the younger maids watching from the doorway, their smiles shy but genuine, and even the gardeners who’ve come all the way up here just to make sure I’m all right.
And all of them, every single one, has nothing but hope in their eyes. Hope for me. And the realization fills me with a soft, aching sadness, because leaving them I realize now as well, feels like a loss I can barely comprehend. I cannot believe what I had planned to do. I would have hurt them all. It was truly beyond foolish.
I think beyond Brett now as my mind begins to truly consider Paris, and it feels like I’m being pulled away from the only family I’ve ever known.
I take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of it settle inside me, a quiet acceptance. Maybe, with enough time and distance, I can forget Brett, forget the way he looked right through me last night, his smile meant for everyone but me. Forget the hollow ache in my heart that whispers how he’ll never be mine, no matter how much I wish for it. Maybe, in Paris, I can find something else, someone else.
One by one, they leave, each offering me a gentle smile, a nod, a quiet word of encouragement, like they’re leaving me with pieces of themselves to take along. Auntie Mae is last to go, her hand squeezing mine just a bit tighter before she steps back, her eyes lingering on me like she’s memorizing my face.
As the room finally empties, I lie back, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of their kindness settling over me like a blanket. They’ve given me all the love they can, wrapped me in it as if it could heal every bruise on my heart. But it doesn’t change the pain pressing in on me, the heartbreak I carry like a secret, a burden I can’t share. I wonder when it will end. In fact, I’m hoping now for Paris because at this point, I would give anything not to feel like this.