The Legacy - The Legacy Saga

Legacy - Part 22

  Ninety

Once dinner is ready, I go upstairs to get Mali. She hasn't come down from her room since we returned from shopping. I have been concerned, but I thought it best to leave her alone for a while. Now I am not so sure it was the right thing to do.

I knock on Mali's door. When there is no answer, I open it slightly and stick my head in. My eyes are immediately drawn to the corner where Mali sits crying. Looking up, she quickly dries her face and my heart aches for her all over again. Slowly approaching, I kneel next to her.

"What's wrong?" I ask, squeezing her hand.

"Nothing," she answers with a small sob.

I try again. "Mali, honey, please tell me what's wrong. You can talk to me." I try not to sound as desperate as I feel.

Mali opens her mouth to speak, but a sob escapes, preventing her from talking.

Grabbing a chair from the desk, I sit next to her and put my arms around her, trying to offer what comfort I can. Mali clings to me and continues to cry. When she finally calms down a little, I lift her chin and dry her tears. "Tell me what's making you so sad, Mali."

She raises her eyes to mine and they are full of fear. She is afraid to share the secret she has carried inside for so long. But she needs to tell someone. Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and says, "It was my fault that my dad left my mom. It was all my fault."

I open my mouth to disagree but stop myself. Instead, I remain quiet, praying that I can say the right thing. I try to keep my voice gentle. "How was it your fault, Mali?"

Mali wipes at her face again and takes another deep breath, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

"Last year I had this teacher–Miss Sims was her name. She was young and beautiful. She had blue eyes and blond hair, and her skin was always perfectly tanned. All the boys in school would stare at her when she walked through the halls, and the boys in her classes could barely get any work done because they were too busy looking at her. I thought she was pretty nice. She always tried to make sure I understood everything and sometimes even spent extra time with me during the class period, giving me help when I needed it. I thought she was the perfect teacher." Her expression hardens. "How stupid I was!"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because . . . because there was a reason she was being so nice to me." Her hands form fists. "I was so stupid, Aunt Cisely! Everybody knew it but me! People hinted around but never said anything. Everybody knew!"

"Knew what?" I press, doing my best to keep my voice calm.

Mali drops her eyes, hesitating to answer, but there is no disguising the smoldering anger she has suppressed since arriving in Italy.

"Knew what?" I ask again.

"That my father had been cheating on my mother with Miss Sims!"

What? I am stunned. Paul had been unfaithful to his wife with his daughter's school teacher. Wendy never mentioned the other woman was her daughter's teacher, nor did she say how she found out. I try to keep unkind thoughts from my mind, but it is hard. How could he hurt his family that way? I remind myself of what I told Phillip during our first conversation. I was never involved in their day to day life, and I have no right to judge. But that knowledge still doesn't stop me from being angry on Mali's behalf.

Keeping my voice soft, I ask, "How did you find out about it?"

When her eyes meet mine, they express a mixture of emotions, and I can't discern any of them. Then to my surprise, she snorts.