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“Out of the question.” Belle shakes her head, crossing her arms in front of her body. “Now is that everything, Miss Oakes? I do have other matters to attend to.”

I sit back in my armchair, feeling miserable. So much for my plans of rescuing Minnie. But while I have Belle here, I might as well try and dig a little deeper.

“Bryony told me something about my mother,” I finally say. “I haven’t even met her. I just… want to see an old picture or something. Do you have any of those?”

“You would have to ask your father.” Belle seems to sense how upset that makes me, and she warms to me a little, giving me a tight smile. “She was beautiful. You look a lot l

ike her.”

“Really?”

My hand goes to my hair nervously. Not many people have called me beautiful, especially not here in Eden Falls. It feels good, like I’ve finally been accepted, and I hate myself for knowing how much those words mean to me, even coming from Belle.

“Your father…” Belle speaks up, nervously glancing over her shoulder to find the bedroom door closed. “Your father couldn’t get over it.”

“No?” I’m almost afraid to say anything else, scared she’s going to stop talking to me.

“No,” she shakes her head. “He… he didn’t take her leaving him very well.”

“I wish she was still around,” I sigh. “I wish she hadn’t died years after. I wish I could visit her, speak to her now. Maybe she’d know how to help me, or at least give me some advice.”

“But you have Mrs. Oakes,” Belle suggests lamely.

I give her a meaningful look which seems to be enough to remind her Bryony’s isn’t useful at all. She keeps switching between obsessing over me and being strangely mean, which makes me feel at odds. I don’t trust her. Especially not now that I’ve found out about her ongoing pill addiction.

“Miss Pandora, I…” Belle trails off, biting her bottom lip.

“What?” I demand, raising my brows at her.

“I know you don’t think I’m a good mother.” Her voice is shaky, and she looks up at me as if I’m going to deny what she just said – but we both know it’s true, and I stay stubbornly quiet. “But I am not a bad person. And I can’t carry this secret with me any longer. I think you should know.”

“Know what?” I ask, getting up from the chair and approaching her.

She’s trembling. I only notice it when I get close enough, and on an impulse, I reach out, taking her trembling, pale hand in mine as I say, “It’s okay, Belle. You can tell me. I won’t get upset.”

“You can’t tell anyone I told you,” she says. “Especially not your father.”

I take a moment to think about it, but she looks so panicked I find myself nodding anyway. I’m too curious about what she’s going to tell me – I need to know all the secrets she’s found out while working for my father.

“It’s about your mother,” she says softly. “I… I… I know something you don’t.”

“What?” I’m getting anxious, and my fingers tighten around hers, pulling her toward me with desperation I didn’t expect from myself. “Tell me.”

“Your father, after your mother left…” She bites her bottom lip nervously. “He couldn’t handle it, so he… he made it seem like she died some years after divorcing him.”

“Made it seem like she died?” I repeat, my heart hammering in my chest. “So she’s not actually…”

“Not as far as I know,” Belle whispers, pulling her hand away from mine after I squeeze her fingers even harder. “But I don’t know where she is. All I know is that your father has got this whole town convinced she went… crazy. And then died in an asylum.”

“I… Can’t believe that,” I mutter. “How could he disrespect her that way? And how could he not tell me? She’s still out there, and she hasn’t even met me. Was Lily Anna in touch with her?”

Belle doesn’t answer, nervously biting her bottom lip as she mutters to herself, “I shouldn’t have told you. I should have taken that secret to the grave. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, Belle,” I insist. “My father’s got you messed up. He makes you believe all the stuff he says, he makes you do stuff you should never, ever be doing… I can’t let that happen.”

I head for the door, and Belle races after me, panic setting in as she realizes what I’m about to do.

“Don’t, Miss Oakes,” she says in hurried, panicked tones. “Please don’t. Please. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

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