Mallory's Melody

Chapter 43

DARKNESS HAD FALLEN by the time Diana finished telling her life story. She told it all, everything from the moment of her birth to the now, and Jason listened attentively, nodding even when what he wanted to do was to tell her to shut up and get to the point. He didn't want to know about her favourite play toy from when she was young or the neglect she suffered throughout her childhood. What he really cared to know was how Mallory Trent and Diana Gilbert were sisters.

He couldn't believe that two drastically different people could have emerged from the same womb, that they could be just as bonded by blood as they were distanced by animosity. He couldn't believe, most of all, that he had fallen in love with the two of them, both sisters.

"I didn't even know we were sisters up until audition day," Diana said. "My father just saw her upstage and was like 'hey, that's Mallory Trent!" and I was like 'yeah? who cares', and he was like, 'she's your sister' and I went all 'oh, hell no!'. He later told me about Jane. He never really answered me whenever I asked about my biological mother. Said she was not worth knowing. And I thought he must have been heartbroken or something because she'd left him. But when he told me about her—and he's like a Jane historian, by the way—I finally believed it."

Jason sat back in his chair, his interest now fully engaged. They were getting to the meat now. "Was she unpleasant?"

"No, it was nothing like that." Diana cracked her knuckles. "She was just a whore."

He didn't know if it was possible to choke on air, but at then, he did. "Sorry, what? Did you just call your mother a whore—"

"Point of correction." Diana stood to her feet and held her waist with sass. "Don't ever make the mistake of calling that... that thing my mother again. I don't claim her."

"Why?"

Diana shrugged. "I already told you. She's a whore..."

"Sorry, but that could mean a million things."

Diana shot him a death stare.

"What could be clearer that Jane Anderson being a fully confirmed whore? Don't you see the connections? She has children all over the damn place, and Mallory and me aren't the only ones. She got with a lot of them, my dad, Mallory's father, and a bunch of others I don't even care to know. She's a professional heartbreaker, for sure. I mean, I don't like my dad that much, but whenever I see him thumbing her picture or crying over their broken marriage, all I say about is, 'woman, may you be damned.' Thankfully, she's dead now, and God would be kind enough to keep her that way."

Jason couldn't help but laugh at that. But when he met Diana's cold stare, he cut himself short. The seriousness on her face belied the humour in her words. "How could you possibly not find this funny?"

Diana sat beside him. "I don't know, maybe because I'm human? How would you take it if you figured out that your biological mother was a whore? I bet you'll laugh, uh? Or maybe even be ecstatic. If you don't get the picture, just imagine Mallory getting this news... she'll be crushed, won't she?"

Jason would've imagined her as Diana suggested, but he quickly blocked her image from forming in his mind. Thinking of her brought an overwhelming influx of guilt, having left her the way he had, without any closure, any explanation. And no matter how much he tried to justify what he'd done, he couldn't get past the hurt saw seen on her face, the raw glimpse of pain.

"She wouldn't take it well," Jason said, his countenance less animated than it was before. "She's always had another idea of Jane in her mind."

Diana pulled out a bottle of nail polish from her purse and presumptuously placed her fingers on his knees, her substitutionary stool. She used to do that, paint her nails on his knees, and Jason would do nothing but sit silently, be fascinated by the slow, almost elegant strokes of colour on translucent nails. After she finished painting, he would raise her fingers to his lips and blow lightly over them, adding the finishing touches. He felt oddly inclined to do that now. Perhaps it was true that old habits died hard.

"She believes Jane is a martyr." Diana blew on her nails, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. For someone who said she didn't hate Mallory a while ago, there was enough animosity on her face to confirm she still did. "A martyr for her. She thinks the universe revolves around her. That when Jane jumped off the cliff and left her in the basket like little baby Moses, it was because she loved her. Self-delusion cannot go beyond that."

Jason rose his brows. "Do you have any other explanation for why she left Mallory on the cliff, then?"

"No, I'm just certain it isn't because Jane loved her. Jane is incapable of love, in my opinion. She's a gold-digging prostitute."

"Would you like some water?" The receptionist who had been telling them to keep quiet for the past hour came up to them. She had a tray between her hands and the most friendly, yet the creepiest smile on her face, and if you imagined her head was cocked to one side, you would think she was demented.

Jason hurriedly took a bottle of water from the tray. But Diana took hers a little more dubiously, more watchfully. When the receptionist had returned to her post, and Jason was about to open the cap of the bottle, she said, "something's not right. I can feel it..."

"You said it was Mallory?"

Diana shook her head. "No, another thing."

Jason shrugged and swung his head backwards to take a big gulp when Diana swigged the bottle away from him.

"Hey, what gives?" Jason asked.

Diana got up and stormed for the receptionist's counter. They were casually conversing for a long while before Diana did the most horrific thing. She took the receptionist by her collar, slammed her head down onto the table, and force-fed her the bottle of water, yelling, "you stinking little bitch. Have a taste of your own poison!"

Jason rushed to split them apart. "What the hell, Diana?"

The receptionist gasped for her breath and staggard backwards.

Diana just stared at her with vengeful hate. "She's trying to poison us..."

"Are you crazy or what?" Jason yelled, "She's not trying to—"

As though on cue, the receptionist slumped backwards, her triumphant collapse sending an ear-splitting boom throughout the whole reception. Horrified, Jason bent near her body to check her pulse and verify that her heart was still beating. It was. Jason frantically reached into his phone to call 911, but Diana swatted it away.

"What the—"

Diana gazed at him. "Not the time to be the hero, Jason. Heroes die first."

"I don't understand."

"Oh brother, you can't be so slow as to not see that she tried to poison us." Diana eyed her on the floor. "But thank God we fed her own poison."

"Who's trying to—what the hell is happening!"

Diana shrugged. "First William tried to kill me, then poison me. Mallory's in trouble, and Jane is—well, Jane is still a sicko. I don't know what the hell is going on, but one thing is certain. The game is on, Jason. Question is, are you in or out?"