018 Mother's New Message

Benita was clearly somewhat of a chatterbox, and as she spoke, she seemed to become addicted to the conversation. Seeing that Theresa showed no sign of annoyance, she rattled on enthusiastically: “The second time I saw you must have been at the academy's entrance exam. You were so patient and willing to teach others—so many people surrounded you, asking about the exam, and you didn’t hold anything back. You explained everything clearly and methodically, and I really admired your generosity.”

Generosity? What generosity did she have? Theresa was bewildered. She remembered the incident Benita referred to—it was only a few days ago, how could she have forgotten? After the exam, a few women who were acquainted with Betty came over to exchange pleasantries. Naturally, their daughters and nieces hovered around, trying openly and covertly to glean details about the test. At the time, Theresa thought the test was merely about basic skills, and as it assessed individual aptitude without limiting enrollment, there was no real competition among the girls. Thus, she saw no need to keep anything secret, so she picked out the important points and explained them carefully to the girls preparing for the exam.

The whole process had taken only two or three minutes. She never imagined it would leave such an impression on Benita, nor that she’d be credited with “generosity.” Theresa felt a little lost—was it that she herself saw things too simply, or did Benita read too much into everything?

Noticing Theresa’s bewildered expression, Benita finally realized she might have been overstepping. She cracked a sheepish smile, hesitated, then gently nudged Theresa and said with some embarrassment, “Theresa, I tend to be impulsive and outspoken. When I meet someone I truly like, I can’t help but talk too much. Don’t take it to heart, okay? If you don’t like it, just say so. I really do need to work on that.”

Theresa couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, I was just thinking about something else. But to be honest, your zeal is a little overwhelming. You’ve only met me twice, and both times only briefly—how can you be so… enthusiastic?”

Benita giggled, twirling a lock of her violet wavy hair, her laughter pure and romantic. “That’s just how I am with people I like. As for others, I wouldn’t bother even if they begged me.”

In her words was an unconscious hint of innate pride—a pride born from always being above others, always critical.

A mysterious light flickered in Theresa’s eyes. She curved her lips slightly, her fingertips tracing the rim of her cup. She couldn’t help but think her luck lately was rather good…

☆☆☆

After the autumn night ball, St. Alberta officially began its term. The academy, known for its liberal atmosphere, allowed students to choose their own classes, with several teachers offering the same course at different times. Students could pick their own schedules, and there was a major exam every six months; passing the exam earned credits. This system suited Theresa perfectly. From then on, her days were filled with classes, playing with Kaka and Choochoo at the old manor, occasional outings with Archil or Pedia, or solitary adventures arranged with Anita. Life was thoroughly pleasant.

While Theresa enjoyed her days, someone else was enduring torment—

That afternoon, Theresa had coaxed a large bouquet of beautiful hybrid snake-lilies from Choochoo. Delighted, she entered Maple Court, first detouring through the back garden to plant most of the still-fresh bouquet, giving the gardener some instructions, before heading to the sunroom on the main floor with the choicest blooms—Betty always took her afternoon tea there at this hour.

Arms full of flowers, she hurried along, and as she rounded the corridor, she saw a maid standing at attention before the sunroom’s open veranda. Theresa quickly softened her steps and asked in a low voice, “Does Aunt have a guest?”

The maid gave a subtle nod.

Theresa stopped and looked down at the vibrant snake-lilies in her arms, hesitating—if she missed this moment, the flowers’ peak beauty would soon fade.

After some indecision, she decided to see who Betty was entertaining—if it was a family friend, entering directly wouldn’t be inappropriate.

With that thought, Theresa tiptoed quietly towards the sunroom. She had only gone a few steps when she heard Betty’s furious voice—

“…You want to take her away? You dare say you want to take her away? If Amos hadn’t passed so early, if she hadn’t been a lonely child, how would she have survived? And now you come to tell me you want to take her?”

Betty’s anger made Theresa shrink back, realizing she shouldn’t enter just now. She was about to retreat when another voice stopped her in her tracks—

“Betty, I know this was my oversight,” a gentle male baritone, tinged with exhaustion, replied. “But I am still her uncle. Assigning guardianship to you and your husband is, in some sense, illegitimate.”

“I don’t care about legitimacy. Tess is our child. From the moment she was born in Maple Court, she belonged to us!” Betty’s words were firm, and even as an eavesdropper, Theresa’s eyes grew red.

Geoffrey Brenton—the owner of the baritone—her uncle, sighed and said, “Betty, I know this is my fault. That’s exactly why I want to make it up to Tess. Betty, no matter what, I am her only blood relative.”

“Blood relative!” Betty bit out the words, her tone cold as ice. “Geoffrey! If you want to take Tess, fine! Send that she-wolf of yours back to her family first, and I won’t fight you for custody!”

“Betty!” Even Geoffrey’s good temper snapped at hearing his wife called a she-wolf.

Betty knew her words were harsh, but she was unrepentant, glaring at him, eyes wide. “You know perfectly well why Renee moved out on her own back then! It was all your ‘gentle, kind, attentive’ wife’s doing. Now you expect me to let my little Tess suffer at that woman’s hands? Over my dead body!”

At the mention of the reason her sister had left home, Geoffrey’s anger flagged, but he was unwilling to relinquish the right to his only niece. The two fell into a tense, speechless standoff.

Theresa, listening by the door, bit her lip and swallowed the words rising in her throat. She turned and took a few steps away, but before she’d gone far, Geoffrey’s long, weary sigh drifted out from the sunroom.

“Betty, at least let me see Tess. There are things I need to ask her—about Renee.”

“She’s out,” Betty replied stiffly. Though it was true, her tone suggested otherwise, making it seem as if she was blocking Geoffrey from seeing Theresa—at least, that’s how Geoffrey took it.

“Betty, Renee’s death…” Geoffrey hesitated, then dropped a bombshell: “Renee’s death may not have been as it seemed.”

“What do you mean?” Betty’s voice rose sharply. Theresa, hearing this, wanted to leap up and rush into the sunroom, but for some reason—nerves, perhaps—her whole body had gone rigid, and even breathing was difficult.

“Betty, Renee’s grave was opened,” Geoffrey went on, “The mayor of Dimarca said two young men were asking about her. They took her… body, and even left a message—for Renee’s family to go to Valinda and find her!”

“That’s impossible!” Betty screamed, her voice trembling. But to Theresa, the shrill sound seemed distant and unreal. Geoffrey’s words echoed in her ears, again and again. Before her eyes, the scene of her mother’s death resurfaced—her mother’s body had withered away day by day, growing thinner and paler, until she was almost unrecognizable. But then, one day, something changed. The sunken eyes and cheeks suddenly filled out, the deathly pallor gave way to a healthy flush, and the lifeless skin regained elasticity… All of it happened so suddenly, so terrifyingly…

Her mother was dead—Theresa had seen her last breath, checked her pulse and heartbeat herself, even tried resuscitation for what felt like an eternity. Still, there was no breath, no heartbeat, and even the priest confirmed that her mother’s life had ended.

She had personally placed her mother in the ice coffin, closed the stone door herself…

Theresa, her mind in chaos, didn’t even realize when she started running, nor where she was running to. All her scattered thoughts coalesced into a single, ever-clearer intention—

She had to go to Dimarca! She had to see for herself!

Theresa’s footsteps startled Betty and Geoffrey, who rushed out of the sunroom to find the entrance littered with scattered, vibrant flowers. The maid on duty stood there, panic-stricken and at a loss.

“Where is Tess?” Betty, seeing the flowers, instantly knew who had been eavesdropping—whenever Theresa found an extraordinary flower at the old manor, she would always bring it home to share with her. There was a note of panic and worry in her voice that she herself didn’t realize.

The maid sank to her knees with a thud and pointed, “Miss ran toward the back garden.”

Betty and Geoffrey didn’t hesitate, hurrying in the direction Theresa had fled. They raced out of the main house, around the back garden, and reached the stables just in time to see Theresa galloping away on Sugarbeet, quickly vanishing from sight!

Betty was beside herself with regret and immediately ordered people to follow. In the midst of her frantic yelling, Archil rushed in, not even dismounting before calling out, “Mom, what’s happened to Tess? She just ran off, and no matter how much Pedia and I shouted, she wouldn’t stop.”

Betty immediately asked, “Where’s Pedia? Did he go after Tess?”

Archil, seeing his mother’s red eyes and frantic state, tried to comfort her. “Don’t worry, Mom. Pedia has the tracking scent. I’ll chase after them right now.”

“I’m coming too,” Geoffrey had already grabbed a horse, his face tense and anxious.

Betty had no heart to argue further with Geoffrey. She waved them on impatiently, “Go, hurry! Bring Tess back quickly, that girl, oh…”

Without another word, Archil and Geoffrey sped off, leaving Betty by the stables, alternately anxious, angry, sighing, and heartbroken.