TB

CHAPTER 137

Joe returned home and came back holding an old diary and a faded envelope in his hand. He handed the diary to Grace and then stepped back outside, presumably to smoke, as the sound of striking a match and muted cursing drifted in from outside.

Opening the diary felt like she was prying open the coffin of her long-deceased mother.

The beginning was mundane, filled with the trivialities of newlywed life with Jonathan ‘Johnny’ Riddle, now revealed to be her adoptive father. But gradually, the entries began to weave in criticisms of the monarchy and the world’s injustices. Followed by detailed accounts of goals and sacrifices for a greater cause.

Grace flipped quickly through pages that mirrored her own diary until she abruptly stopped.

[ “At first, I thought it was a simple infiltration mission, but Johnny keeps making more demands. Saying leadership must set an example, I’m at a loss. God, is this truly the right path?” ]

[ “Catering to those dirty royalists while pretending to be a mistress still nauseates me, but the thought that my sacrifice will lead to their downfall makes it bearable.” ]

[ “What does Johnny feel, watching me live with another man?” ]

The following pages were densely filled with the revolutionary creed Grace often recited.

[ “I had an unplanned second child, but a child is always a blessing. Maybe I won’t have to take on that mission for a while?” ]

[ “God, why do you test me so? The child’s eyes, dark blue at birth, have turned teal. I cried all day after being scolded by Johnny for not realizing I was carrying the noble’s child. What to do about this terrible mistake?

Half of this child is from the royalists. My once angelic child now seems a dirty monster.” ]

[ “I suggested giving the child up to an orphanage, but everyone was against it. Even Johnny, who was initially in favor, changed his mind after meeting privately with James Blanchard.”

Why insist on raising a child of those despicable royalists? It’s tormenting.” ]

[ “I tried to abandon the child at an orphanage but got caught halfway.

I was severely reprimanded for over three hours by everyone at the round table. They warned if I tried to flee again or break the rules, my son would be given to another couple. Please, anything but that.” ]

Grace rapidly flipped through subsequent entries, unable to bear reading them.

[ “So, when are we planning to topple the monarchy?

Blanchard seems to think he’s the king. No, perhaps he considers himself God?” ]

[ “Grace has started going to school. A school in the Blanchard family’s basement, taught only to a select few leaders’ children. It’s not a school, but feels more like a church of fanatics.

Last night, Johnny finally explained why the leaders insisted we raise Grace. After hearing that, I found myself feeling sorry for the child.

This morning, I braided her hair myself, and she boasted with excitement to her friends she met in front of the house that I had done her hair and called her pretty.

I received disdainful looks from those who knew the child’s biological father.

It was foolish of me.

Moreover, the strategy of making dogs eat dogs and pigs eat pigs, the more I think about it, the more revolting it is. What’s the point of a strategy where royalists kill their own without knowing?