Matilda Garcia is married to one of the most established lawyers and land owners in Trinidad, and she cannot be more happier. Until, an object from her past suddenly appears in her life which leads to solve the mystery of her dead daughter, and circ...
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I flung the diary at the wall out of shock. It fell to the ground facing down. Those words couldn’t have been real. Anna was dead. She was not coming back. It was impossible.
Ariel and Bernard stared at me with their mouths a gap. Their eyes bulged outwards. Their surprise was understandable. From their point of view, I read my dead daughter’s diary and then flung it away like a damn idiot.
Bernard rose up from his crouching position and approached the book. His knees buckled as he walked, as if he was nervous about finding out what had made me so apprehensive all of a sudden. When he was hair pin length away from the book, he bent down with a groan and took it up. I watched his eyes as they scanned the entry. When he was done, he yelled, “Ariel you better read this!”
Ariel snapped out of her state of paralysis and attended to her ex-co-worker. She snatched the diary from him, and read it for herself. After a few moments passed, she let out an audible snort, and then a laugh.
My driver and I gave each other a look. We didn’t see what was funny about this.
I frowned and asked, “Is there a joke that I missed?” She smiled.
“Sorry, but me can’t believe that you both think dat this shit is real,” she laughed nonchalantly. “This is probably Henry tricking you again.” That could have been a possibility. It was way more plausible than Anna rising from the dead, so I didn’t argue with her. Bernard, however, did otherwise.
“Now, gal, what would Mr Garcia gain from this?” he pressed, narrowing his eyes. Hmm, I had never heard him speak so informally to anybody, which meant that he and Ariel were more than just co-workers (if you could even still call them that). Somehow I felt slightly jealous.
She shrugged her shoulders, and she replied with, “I dunno, maybe to scare her?”
“The man done frighten her by batter bruising her face, which was pathetic on his part.”
At the mention of my bruises, I ran my finger over one of my face bandages. I winced from the pain. They, quite obviously, had not healed yet. A tear rolled down my face. Henry, the man I loved and gave twelve years of my life to, my husband, had physically and mentally hurt me. The fact made me cry harder.
“Nice going idiot, you made her cry!” Ariel yelled. Bernard yelled back in protest, and the pair would have started a heated argument if it weren’t for Kurt entering the room.
“Mrs Spence, Mr Charles, I’m sorry but visiting hours are up,” he informed Ariel and Bernard in a formal tone. Ariel snorted and put her handbag over her shoulder. She and Bernard told me good bye.
“Work your magic, Dr Myers,” she said, mocking his formal demeanour. They left the room.
“How bad am I?” I asked him. He rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that night.
