Calista, Laura Rahme [best ereader for comics txt] 📗

she could. “You must tell me more, my dear. You must tell me everything. In the letter you sent me, you said Aaron is not the brother I know. What did you mean by that?”

For the next hour, Vera listened, dumbfounded, while the woman she deemed to be a cunning liar poured out her heart and recollected the horrors she had lived in the cellar for years.

“Everyone in the house would have heard those poor animals scream, but they pretended they did not. They would have seen me take the dogs and the cats, down there, and never see them return. But what could they say? Aaron was master of the house. I tried to confide in Mrs. Cleary. I took her aside one day. I was crying and she tried to comfort me. I told her what I was forced to do down there. What we did… but I don’t think she understood.”

Calista left nothing out, so relieved was she to find a friendly ear and to finally name the cage that was her home. She did not hesitate, even at the part where she had to explain the extent of her uncanny abilities, knowing full well Vera would not comprehend them. It did not matter. Oh, at last, she had found someone to save her from Aaron. And for being a woman, Calista had long ago intuited that Vera must not approve of Aaron’s ways. For what woman approves of a selfish man? Reassured in her belief, Calista told all and relief rushed through her at the end of every sentence.

And then a deadly silence fell upon the room. Calista waited. She hoped Vera would overcome her deep reserve and bridge the gap between the two women. She hoped Vera would walk to her bed and take her sister-in-law gently in her arms. God knows, she needed it.

As Calista gazed in hope at her sister-in-law, Vera grew aware of the repulsion filling her own chest, a burning sensation that surged from deep within and rose to her throat, choking her.

She stood slowly, overwhelmed by a deep urge to vomit. She began to pace the room, not knowing precisely what it was she felt. Her confused thoughts swirled in her mind. At last, she turned towards the bed and stood there, studying Calista.

Calista’s eyes widened. Behind Vera, the door handle had shifted. A limb, which Calista recognised, slid into the room, seeking. Calista froze, horrified that Vera might also see it.

“Ovee…” she whispered, unheard and out of breath.

For a heartbeat, Calista’s attention was drawn to the flurry of movement by the door, until she stared back at her sister-in-law, and gasped. A malignant light had taken hold of Vera. Her gaze was hardened.

For in the instant she had learnt of Aaron’s extraordinary endeavor, and the various wrongs in which her brother found himself implicated, Vera was swept by a storm of frightful emotions. And now a violence animated her face and it was this which Calista saw as she trembled in her bed.

Calista’s eyes searched for Ovee across the room, but the shadow she had glimpsed earlier was nowhere to be seen. Vera moved closer until her outrage shot from her lips.

“You cunning bitch!”

“But… it is all true, Vera…”

“Is this why you had me come? To fill me with lies? So I might listen to your inventions? All lies. You wretched creature. It was not enough you ensnared my brother. Now, you invent stories about him like a low-class cur.”

Calista stared in shock as Vera edged upon the bed, towering above her. There was a movement at the drapes. She attempted to scream, but her breath failed her and only a hoarse whisper escaped her lips.

Vera reached for the larger pillow.

“Ove…” Calista fought to call out its name but the pillow came fast over her face, and her voice was muffled. Realising that no air came, and upon sensing Vera’s intentions, a bolt of fear ran through Calista’s body.

Blinded and breathless, Calista could not see that Vera’s face had changed. Rage deformed that face, and her lips were twisted into a demonic mask. And as Vera clamped down the pillow, vengeful words burst from her lips.

“You lying, lying bitch! You shan’t get away. How dare you tell lies about Aaron! How dare you come into our home and wreck it for us. He should have been mine. Now, you will keep your mouth shut.”

Calista’s flailing arms waved about aimlessly until the last of her strength waned. Then all was still.

Behind Vera, a small dog had found the door ajar and it sprung towards the bed, filling the room with its barking.

Vera’s face smoothed over. She lifted the pillow and saw what lay beneath. It was astounding that not a moment ago, the reason for her rage still lived. Vera stepped back, quietly relieved. It was such a liberating feeling. The weight of years lifted from her shoulders.

Captivated by the look of death on Calista, she barely heard Mary scold Willy by the door.

“Willy! Get back now! Let Mrs. Nightingale sleep! You naughty dog.”

Vera startled. She caught a glimpse of her face by the mirror. Her bun had collapsed from its tight coil and sweat trickled down her forehead.

She recomposed herself. Smoothing the sheets, to make it look like Calista slept, she re-arranged the pillow before staring one last time at Calista’s closed eyes.

Then she spun round, sped towards the door and seized Mary who had remained frozen outside.

“What were you doing, snooping inside this bedroom, miss?” Vera hissed, still panting.

“I’m, I’m sorry, Miss Vera. I was going to ask Mrs. Nightingale if she wished me to bring her another tea. I wasn’t doing anything bad.”

“She’s asleep.”

“Oh, yes. I saw. I mean, I know she is sleeping.”

Still wary, Vera studied the young maid. She recognised her. It was