The Ember In The Storm

Part II

   The evening of Jackson's departure, Elizabeth barely got out for dinner. Eating was the last thing on her mind, she did not have the appetite for it.

She enjoyed the company of Jackson's papers and quills sprawled ahead of her on his table. She did not plan on cleaning the place this time around, she would leave it exactly as he did.

Each paper she lifted she put back in its position after reading the contexts.

A small thin piece of paper caught sight of Elizabeth, folded into half and neatly placed on the side of the table, right next to the candle. With curiosity, she hesitantly reached for it, noticing the familiar cursive in black ink.

"Jackson," she muttered, examining the words written on the outer half.

À celui qui tient mon cœur.

"French? I can't speak French," she grumbled in disappointment, stretching the paper open. In similar writing were the words and numbers:

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet"
—A1:S5
—A2S2

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," Elizabeth repeated to herself, wondering if saying they words to herself would ring a bell, which it did.

Quickly, she jumped to her feet and turned to her left, two steps later she stood ahead of Jackson's book shelf.

He always arranged his books alphabetically by authors names and in the same manner with their books.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes around the large shelf until she found the W section. She looked one more time for another letter.

"There we go," she spoke with satisfaction, walking back to the table and looking at the paper once more. A1:S5. "Act one; Scene five," she flipped through the old brown pages.

"What does The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet have to do with anything?" She asked herself. Jackson had admitted that the piece was his least favorite of William Shakespeare's, so why did he have parts of it on paper?

Romeo: Did my heart love till now? Foreswear it, sight for I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

The first time Romeo had set eyes on Juliet.

"No," Elizabeth stood to her feet. What she was denying, she had no clue. Composing herself, she sat back down.

A2:S2. "Act two; Scene two." She flipped anxiously through the pages.

Romeo: But come what sorrow can, it cannot countervail the exchange of joy that one short minute gives me in her sight.

Elizabeth shut the book, panting from nothingness. "Do not be delusional, Elizabeth," she told herself. "He told you he wanted nothing to do with you, he said it to your face."

She was going to convince herself that they meant nothing. She stumbled upon something not meant for her eyes, although, Jackson never struck as one who would be familiar with such feelings or give such gestures.

"Whatever I feel for this man, I know nothing of nor understand," she stood to her feet, crossing her arms against her chest, "still, it feels wonderful, as beautiful as a ripple before a tidal wave."

Amidst the turmoil of thoughts circulating in Elizabeth's head, a loud detonation echoed from outside, startling her to reality.

Before she could process it or what was going on, it came a second—no, a third, actually—

Bang! Bang!

Gunshots. Realization struck her.

The sound echoed sharply against her ears, deafening her sense of reason before she ran out of the room. Running down the halls, she directed herself to Vaughn's bedroom.