Snow and the Wishing Well (Fallen Tales series)

Chapter 28

Chapter 28
Sarah
I sat on the edge of the wishing well, where Justin found me two days ago.
Like Michael had promised, the shelter was closed. I had been sleeping on the streets for the past two nights, shivering till sleep took me. But then my mind was haunted by nightmares. But last night, I dreamt of a memory that I hadn't thought about in years.
I was fifteen, on school holidays. I was bored and decided to explore the house.
The hallways were lit up by the spring sun, the open windows letting in the smell of fresh flowers that the groundskeeper had been growing. I had always loved this time of year.
As I walked down the stairs, Victoria's maid strode past me reminding that I needed to talk to Victoria.
"Beatrice, have you seen Victoria?" I asked.
Beatrice wasn't an overly pretty woman and she never smiled. She wore her hair in a tight bun and always spoke to me as if I was a spoilt little child.
"Do you need to speak to her?" she asked in defensive tone.
"Ahh, I just need to ask her something," I told her hoping she would just tell me. But that was never the case with her.
"I'm sorry Miss, but she went...down to the village."
I frowned. Victoria would never go to the village unless it was totally necessary.
"Victoria went down the street?" I asked not believing her.
"Yes," she said not blinking.
"Where is she?" I asked with my hands on my hip.
"I can't say."
"Where is she?" I asked with more force getting angry.
I had come to a conclusion and the thought of where she possibly was made my blood boil.
Beatrice's lips were sealed but her eyes kept flicking to the hall that led to the far end of the house.
I picked up what she was telling me and headed down the stairs.
The hall was dark, with doors on either side of me. So many to choose from.
I stopped when I heard giggles coming from the end bedroom. It was one of our many guest bedrooms.
"Stop it," a voice giggled.
My blood went cold when I recognised that it was Victoria's voice.
"What, I can't help it."
It wasn't my father's voice.
"Shh, my husband will hear," she said oohing as they both started to giggle.
I felt sick. I placed my hand on the wall trying to balance myself. The colour in my face disappeared at the thought of keeping a secret. Back then I didn't have secrets, especially from my father. But I knew if he found out that his wife was cheating on him, it would kill him.
I had kept that secret from him till the day he died. Victoria had found out that I knew almost a month later and that's when I found out that it had been my father's head hunter. She had promised that the relationship was over between them but I knew that she was lying. She never truly loved my father.
I sighed waking from the memory.
I stood and started to walk to the end of the park where a tin shed was. Looking around, seeing if anyone was around before I went behind it. I knelt down in the cold dirt and snow and started to scrape away the turned about dirt. When I uncovered a blue bag, I pulled it out.
Shortly after I came to London, I knew I wouldn't be able to survive if I kept the bag around me. It was baggage and a reminder of my past life. I had to forget Sarah White and become Snow. I couldn't do that with the bag.
I unzipped it peering inside. It still had a few clothes that I left behind and the small teddy bear that my parents had given me when I was born. I pulled out the two photos that Heather had packed for me. The first one, was of her and me on one of my birthdays. I had forced her to get in the photo with me, winning her over by saying that she was like a sister to me. I smiled at the thought of her. The other one was of my father in his early years, my mother in their kings-size bed with a baby in her arms. I hadn't realized how much we looked alike till then. I had her hair, skin, lips and even her eyes. They had looked so happy.
A tear escaped from my eyelids, scaring me. I didn't know if I could cry till two days ago. It was a nice feeling, I guess.
But what was I crying about? Was it because I missed that? Or because I knew I couldn't get that?






Chapter 29
Justin
I started my morning walk to Starbucks when something took my eyes. The wishing well and the girl that sat on the edge of it. I hadn't seen her in a week.
I walked over to her knowing that she could probably hear me coming. Sitting on the edge of the well, next to her, I asked, "So are you going to tell me the real reason why you came to London? Why your sleep with men for money? Why you put up with all this crap when you have a perfectly good home in Seven Hills?"
"I don't have a home," she quickly said not looking me in the eye, "Well not yet anyway."
I frowned, "What?"
Turning to me, she took my hand and said, "Can we go somewhere private?"
I looked around seeing nothing but trees and birds, the closest people that were near us were meters away, on the footpath walking to work.
But the look in her eyes told me that whatever she had to say, was for my ears only.
I nodded, "Of course."
I took her back to my hotel room. She sat on the bed and I joined her after making sure that the door was locked.
She looked nervous and she couldn't quiet sit still I place my hand on her thigh.
Swallowing she stated, "I don't really know where to start."
"Well, just start from the beginning," I told her.
She nodded, starting, "Okay, well, my mother did die when I was five and my father did remarry to a woman called Victoria."
"Yes, you've told me this," I said remembering that day.
She told me after we went to the lingerie store.
"And you already know how their marriage ended."
I frowned, "No, no, I don't."
She swallowed, "Yes, yes you do. It was a Thursday night, at twelve o'clock. He screamed out or something, I don't really know."
I frowned feeling as if I had already been told the story. But not from her.
"So Victoria called the ambulance but they couldn't –."
"Advise him," I finished.
Did I read it somewhere?
"– They told me that it had been a heart attack –."
"A heart attack."
"Victoria was such a mess, no wonder she got away with it."
I stopped and frowned at that statement. Her tone was ruff with another meaning. What was she implying?
I looked into her eyes, she was holding the last piece of the puzzle. She still had all the cards.
"What's the finally piece?" I asked her not looking her in the eye.
"My full name is Sarah Alesea White."
The article.
She was the daughter.
Her accent.
He scream out or something, I don't really know.
It all made sense now. She was a noble, she was a Lady. She had an upper class accent because she was upper class.
But something still didn't make sense.
"What happened after that?" I asked.
She swallowed, "When the paramedics told me that my father was dead, I went back to my room. My maid Heather came in and started packing a bag for me. She told me that it wasn't safe for me anymore. She –."
"Wasn't safe for you anymore, what do you mean?" I butted in.
"My father had changed his will a month before he died. He didn't leave anything for Victoria," when I didn't say anything, she added, "Justin, my father was murdered."
My eyes widen, and my heart stopped. She couldn't be serious. She had to have jumped to the wrong conclusion. Why would anyone want to kill her father because they weren't put into his – I stopped. That wasn't the main message here. It was that Sarah was the rightful owner of her estate but she had been living on the streets of London, in fear that someone would kill her. Not just someone, her step mother.  
I turned to her, "So the sleeping with men..?" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"My plan was, well is, that I needed to earn enough money, quickly, so that I can buy back my home. Victoria wouldn't give it up otherwise."
"How much money do you need?" I asked.
"Over a million pounds."
I nodded trying to get my head around that big of number.
"And how much do you have?"
"A few thousand."
"And where do you keep the money?" I asked.
"A bank account, under the name Santana Walther. I read a thing somewhere that when people change their name they often use the same first letters of their original name. It's stupid," she muttered.
"No it's not."
She looked at me, wanting me to explain.
"You wanted something you could hold on to. A reminder."
She smiled as her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at me. My heart raced at the thought of kissing those lips of hers. But I didn't.
Instead I asked, "Do you want to stay tonight?"
She seemed surprised by my question, looking around the room. When her eyes returned to mine.
"I don't really have anywhere else to go."
I wrapped an arm around her, resting her head on my shoulder.
"Thank you," she muttered nuzzling my chest.
"it's okay Sarah, it's going to be okay."