Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Hennessy: Don’t listen to what people say, watch what they do.
Her jaw clenched.
Needing her to know the truth, I confessed, “I wasn’t trying to embarrass anyone. Especially a bunch of strangers at a party.”
She tilted her head, countering, “Just yourself then?”
“I just wanted to be alone.”
Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted. “And how’s that working out for you, Hennessy? Are you enjoying all your alone time?”
“So this is my punishment? Neither of you being here?”
“Your uncle is a very busy man.”
“I didn’t see him on campus. Shouldn’t the director of international studies be at work on the first day of school?”
She clipped, “You must have just missed him.”
“I don’t think that’s the case.”
“And what has your wild imagination conjured up now? Is there another tree you need to go climb?”
“Huh, so gloves are off now, or were they never really put on?”
“Hennessy.” She smiled, displaying her impeccable white teeth. “You’re my fiancés niece… let’s not burn more bridges, shall we?” She stepped toward me. “I’m the woman of this house and don’t you forget that, young lady. You’ve already embarrassed us enough, don’t you think?”
“Are you expecting an apology for something I didn’t mean to do?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t like being lied to. I’m not your uncle, little girl, and I expect respect. Especially in my own home.”
“I thought respect is something that you earn?”
“Not here.”
“I—”
“The party was for you,” she pointed out. “I spent the past year planning that for you, and instead of being grateful, you were nothing more than a spoiled brat.”
“Year?” That was the only thing I caught. “I got accepted a month ago.”
She ignored my statement. “We were just trying to welcome you to the Graves Academy, and you shit all over it,” she slightly shouted.
“That party had nothing to do with me and everything to do with appearances. I barely know my uncle. Why would you think I’d want to be welcomed with a room full of strangers?”
“How about being grateful for every string your uncle had to pull for you to even be here?”
“Here I’ve been told repeatedly that my grades spoke for themselves.”
“That’s not how this world works, little girl. You’re old enough to understand that appearances are everything. No?”
“Not in my world.”
“Well,” she snidely snipped, “you’re in our world now, and you’ll abide by the rules.”
“Jesus,” I breathed out. “From the moment I landed, everyone keeps reminding me of these rules. Except they’re the rules, not our rules. Both carry a very different distinction, don’t you think?”
She nodded. “I expected you to know your place.”
“And what place would that be?”
“The one your uncle is trying desperately for you to fit into, and now you’re just proving him wrong.”
“Who sets these rules and why can’t anyone tell me why I have to follow them?”
“There are rules in every world, Hennessy. You’re old enough to know that too.”
“Yeah, standard ones. These are something completely different, and you know it.” She didn’t answer me, so I didn’t hold back. “He’s trying to restore the Belladonna name, right?”
She scoffed, not the least surprised. “That didn’t take long. Let me guess, Deja? My niece doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. She never does.”
I mirrored her stance, crossing my arms over my chest too. “I would’ve preferred honesty.”
She stepped closer to me. The click of her heels echoed throughout the entire foyer. “You’ve been here a week, Hennessy, and you’ve successfully managed to insert yourself into matters that don’t concern you.”
“It seems to me like I’ve stepped into a trap.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she bit.
“Oh, okay…” I held up a finger. “Your nephew tries to humiliate me today in front of half the school.” I held up a second finger.
“My uncle lies to me.” I held up a third.
“And every person I meet tells me there are rules I’m expected to follow, yet no one tells me why.
” I smiled without a trace of humor. “And that’s just today. But I’m the problem?”
She looked at me the same way someone studies a crack in an expensive piece of glass.
Her patience snapped like a thread, and she spewed, “That attitude is exactly what destroyed your mother.”
Her words knocked the air from my lungs. “My mother? You know my mother?”
She regretted them immediately, cautiously replying, “Unfortunately.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re not meant to.”
“What does that mean? Why does everyone speak in code around here?”
“Hennessy…” She hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts, and I noticed.
“I highly suggest you forget what I just said.”
I frowned. “That’s like asking me to stop breathing.”
“Careful,” she warned. “That too can be arranged.”
What the hell?
She got right in my face. “You listen to me because I won’t repeat myself.”
Something in her voice rooted me to the ground I stood on.
“Stop following that curiosity of yours just because someone tells you no. Do you understand me?”
“That’s an impossible request.”
“Do not mistake our woods for your rainforest, little girl. They’re not just trees. They’re witnesses.”
“To what exactly?”
Her tone dropped a little, and she backed away from me.
“If you insist on wandering into places you don’t belong in”—her gaze drifted toward the direction of the Devereaux estate—“then be entirely prepared to find what you’re looking for.
” She eyed me up and down with a look of disdain and disappointment. “Before it finds you first.”
Not surrendering, I argued, “Is that a threat?”
“No, my darling girl.” She simply spoke with conviction, “It’s a promise.” She spun and left.
I stayed there for a few seconds, inhaling a deep breath. My stare also wandered to the Devereaux estate.
Did she mean those woods or my uncle’s?
I walked into my bedroom, throwing my backpack next to the ripped dress that hadn’t moved from the chair I left it in.
I told the housekeeper I didn’t need them to clean my space and that I could handle it myself.
I appreciated that they actually listened to me.
They seemed to be the only ones who were.
I jumped in the shower, trying to wash away the unpleasant day, aware it was only the beginning of something I wasn’t prepared for. I was always a firm believer that water had the power to change your timeline. Standing beneath the steam felt calming.
The shower was big enough to fit an army, with jets splattering in all directions.
The rainforest showerhead was my favorite part.
I stood there, trying to pretend it was a waterfall cascading down on me.
Once the fantasy wore off, I dried off with a towel, then changed into a pair of white cotton shorts and a white tank top.
This was what I normally wore at home. It was probably a little too revealing, but I was alone, and I knew I’d be for at least the rest of the night. Since it was getting a bit chilly, I grabbed an oversized hoodie next, feeling at home in my comfort clothes.
Twisting my long wavy hair into a messy bun, I slid a pencil through it to hold it up before sliding my phone into my hoodie pocket. Not bothering with any shoes or socks, I made my way back downstairs.
There was no second-guessing myself. I did what I wanted to do since the moment I stepped through the front door… I walked into the backyard. Nature had always been my happy place, and I refused to follow orders on something I felt so dear to my heart.
The stone steps led to an enormous pool and patio. It was picturesque with the sun setting perfectly over the horizon. The travertine stretched for what looked like acres, wrapping around an infinity pool that could have belonged to a luxury resort rather than someone’s home.
Water spilled over the edge, disappearing into an untouched forest. My gaze wandered farther down the cobblestone path where perfectly manicured gardens burst with roses, lavender, and other flowers extending for miles upon miles.
Marble and stone statues stood like silent warriors among the sculpted edges.
Their faces were still prominently showing, despite all the rain and snow they endured through the years.
I didn’t recognize any of their faces. None of them looked familiar to me.
They were strangers as much as everyone else had been.
Everything I saw was immaculate, pristine to the point of being obnoxious.
Almost like someone had torn open a magazine and designed this estate from that alone.
It didn’t feel lived in, though. Nothing was out of place, not even a towel or a cushion or a pillow.
It was preservation more than a home, a museum of sorts.
Unlike his estate, the woods weren’t polished. They were wild, calling out to me. The scent of pine drifted through the yard. Birds chirped somewhere high in the trees while the breeze carried the earthy smell of moss and damp leaves.
For the first time all day…
I could breathe.
While I was growing up, whenever life became too loud, nature always reminded me the world was bigger than whatever was hurting me.
I stepped off the stone patio and into the grass. The cool blades tickled my feet. Without thinking, I just kept walking past the garden and the old fountain, toward the tree line. The woods welcomed me like an old friend.
I found an outhouse that stored anything you’d need for the outdoors. I grabbed a flashlight, a few logs, and some matches, deciding it’d be a nice night to start a fire under the stars and moon.
It was one of my favorite things to do: be one with the earth. I didn’t notice how far I’d gone, stopping when it felt right to. After I built a small fire, I turned on my playlist and listened to “Le Dije a Papa” by Eva Ayllón. A traditional Afro-Peruvian song titled “I Told Dad.”
It seemed fitting for what I was going through. It was a daughter singing to her father, searching for pieces of herself through the music.
I knew how to dance to all sorts of music, but this one was my top choice. Something about the beat made me feel like my ancestors were calling. Dancing wasn’t just a hobby for me. It was woven into my upbringing.
Music was a huge part of my culture, and I performed for people from all over the world.
I was one of the dancers at our resort, and I loved every second of it.
Out of all the tasks I helped with, this one was by far my favorite.
My body was made to move. It was who I was.
It was how I was born. It spoke to me in so many different ways, saving my sanity more times than I could count.
When words failed me, my body never did.