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The Union town hall meetings were monthly affairs, but they were occasionally held for emergency reasons. There was probably no bigger of an emergency than all of the town's children being slaughtered.
Beatrie was a married woman, so technically she was allowed to attend the meetings. She'd declined, under the guise of feeling unwell. She wasn't sure if it was a physical manifestation of her guilt, but she had truly begun to feel unwell. Her husband, whose absence during the discovery of her sister's corpse had been noted by Beatrice, rage simmering under her stomach, was in attendance, leaving the house to herself. Instead, she was filling her time with getting her affairs in order. She'd packed her bags, collecting anything that she believed Isaac might need but not have time to pack.
It was the only thing able to distract her from her grief, the monotony of taking things off shelves and putting them in bags. She could feel her hands shaking, trying her best to be delicate. Alexander had never even been in her house since she'd moved out of their childhood home. He had arrived at their front door several times during the time he was home, but Beatrice had always - as casually as possible - met him outside and taken him to a second place.
She didn't want him in there. Sylvia and Catherine had come over a few times but she avoided it as much as possible. Having her family over meant that this was a situation. And so far, Beatrice was still in denial about it being a situation. At most it was a circumstance. They were different, she was sure.
She felt so stupid, having let herself get into this situation. She had been angry with Alexander, she was realising as she smoothed herself out. Her older brother, her protector, hadn't even been there when she'd been married. He'd been off with their abusive father, leaving Beatrice to take care of her dying mother and her dying marriage.
That wasn't fair, she knew, but it sat there, ugly and hot in her chest no matter how much she tried to rationalise it to herself. He was Alexander's father too, she hadn't been the only one living with him. He had protected her, she was being unfair.
Her anger was unjustified, but fuck if she wasn't angry. How could he think she was able to fend for herself?
Alexander hadn't even done anything. She just wanted him to come home.
She couldn't grieve her sister alone, that was too much for her. She hadn't realised it until that night, but for years her default had been for Sylvie. She did things for Sylvie. She stayed for Sylvie.
She had no idea what to do now. She'd been running towards something for years of her life, using her sister as a guide. Morality. Good, evil.
Not like the sins she'd been committing with her lover.
She didn't have either of them anymore, but she couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Catherine. She felt dizzy and nauseous, but she dragged herself up. Her bags were hidden, just in case Daniel arrived home before she could get back. Her hands were shaking too much to carry them by herself, she'd need to get Isaac to help. He was in the town hall meeting, but he knew she was waiting for her. She was hoping Daniel would do what he usually did after town hall meetings and hang around with her father. He was trying to get on his good side as his new son in law, unaware that by being a man, he'd already done everything he needed to.
