A Story of Seasons: The Story of Jill | Volume II: Summer

Chapter XII: A Reason to Smile

Grace.

I visited the villa today. It was nostalgic in all the worst ways. The afternoon of the tragedy is still fresh in my mind. Jack and I heard you were returning to the valley for a visit after having your baby. I remember how ecstatic we were when we walked up that hill. We kept gushing about how our daughters were going to be best friends just like you and me were, how you two would take the world by storm.

It's tragic how quickly dreams can slip away from you.

That day... I could never forget how the door was left cracked open, how we heard Romana's enraged yelling over the phone. Sebastian was standing in the corner of his room, staring at nothing. We knew something was wrong. Then he told us. The baby was born, but now you were gone.

The horror and terror I felt. The feeling of my fingernails digging into my scalp, my stomach churning like I was ready to throw up. The scream that ripped my throat, my voice was hoarse for days afterward. I could tell Jack was just as devastated, but he stayed composed enough to comfort me, for my sake. I had never cried that much in my life, and we arrived home later that night when Takakura was babysitting Jill. Jack told him what happened, and the first thing I did when I walked through that door was hold my baby girl in my arms and cried, cried, and cried.

It could have been me. It was the same situation with very different endings. Why was I the one chosen to survive?

Something snapped in Romana that day. I wanted to be there for her granddaughter, but she shut us out. She forbade visitors to the villa for years and raised your daughter silently on her own. I wish I had been more persistent. I'm sure I could have eventually gotten through to her, but my spirit was so broken. I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for my husband and daughter. Even after we moved to the city, Jack still delivered fruits and veggies to Romana for business runs, but she kept the girl cooped up in her room. To this day, I wonder if he ever got the chance to see what she looks like. He never protested, though. He just shrugged it off and bottled it up like he did with everything else. He endured it so I didn't have to.

Now, here I am. 19 years later, I still feel your presence. I took a deep breath as I stood in front of those all too familiar doors, my hands trembling as I held them together in front of me. My stomach churned, and my face flushed with heat as I struggled to reach out my arm to ring the doorbell. I kept seeing your face, how you would smile every time I returned to the mansion.

"Ah, there you are! Welcome back!"

You said that every time. So sweetly.

I forced a smile, a desperate attempt to mask the sorrow. I clenched my hand into a fist with my nails scratching the surface of my palm. I maintained my composure and pressed the doorbell, the familiar ring making its way through the house. I stepped away from the door, self-conscious that I was standing too close to it. It didn't take long. The door opened, and my breath was caught in my throat. Those almond-brown eyes. Though her hair was a different color from yours, the resemblance was so obvious. It was like I was looking eye to eye with my best friend again.

"Oh, hello Miss. Can I help you?"

Once I heard the British accent, it became too much. As much as I tried to maintain my friendly smile, my lips quivered, and a stinging sensation began inflicting my eyes. My hands rose to my face, a futile effort to hide my tears. I'll never forget how alarmed she was, her hands flailing around in distress.