The Fallen Girls 💍

Chapter Twelve: Cinderella

Earlier that morning, in the wee hours before anyone else had stirred, Izzy wrote a letter to her family. She'd planned on calling, but in the end, she couldn't work up the nerve to do it. Writing seemed a better way to capture everything she wanted to say to them.

Through her own tears, she'd written a blessing for her baby sister, Jane. She wanted her mother to know that she hadn't run from the baby, she'd run from her own baby, who still lived in her heart, but whom she could never speak of. Putting the words on paper seemed to lift a weight from her that had been there for a long time.

With that settled, her mind was left to hash out the events of the night before. She'd collapsed in the plush bed of the guest room when she came home from the party and a good night's sleep helped to put things in perspective.

Rita couldn't go through another pregnancy on her own. If she told her the truth about Warren, it was possible that that was exactly what might happen. He was promising to take care of her and maybe—maybe that was what mattered the most.

The thought made Izzy feel a little emptier inside, similar to when a child finds out that Santa isn't real. Unfortunately, living at Saint Mary's Home for Unwed Mothers had taught her that fairytales were for books and movies—not real life.

Later that morning, they sat out on the gazebo by the pool and ate a leisurely breakfast served by Warren's housekeeper, Lucia. The curvy, middle aged Mexican woman took great pride in her arrangements. A centerpiece of fresh fruit in a spiraling design adorned the table, surrounded by steaming eggs, sausage, and pastries of all shapes and sizes.

Although Warren's coddling towards Rita was causing her stomach turn, Izzy couldn't help but revel in the beauty of the glistening pool, the airy sounds of the birds singing; and most of all, how happy Rita was.

Rita was living the life of a princess, something they'd all dreamed of at one time or another, during the dark, cold nights in the stone prison. None of them had every dared to hope those dreams would come true, but for Rita, they had.

After breakfast, Warren kissed Rita goodbye and set off to the studio. She told Izzy he'd just started filming a new movie and a lot of money had been invested in it.

"He's very passionate about his work," she'd explained,her voice full of admiration. "He puts every ounce of himself into it. Sometimes at night I'll wake up to find he's up writing down an idea that came to him in his sleep. He won't rest until everything is absolutely perfect. He's really brilliant at what he does."

Izzy guessed she spent quite a bit of time alone.

Rita lent her a bathing suit and they spent the early afternoon swimming and lounging by the pool. Lucia served grilled sandwiches and salad near noon. It was amazing how easy it was to forget all of her troubles in the paradise of Rita's surreal life.

After lunch, Rita insisted they go into town to shop for their evening at Ciros. Warren's chauffeur was at her beck and call. The shiny black Bentley pulled up to the house minutes after she telephoned him.

"Really, Rita, I have things to wear," Izzy said as she took the drivers hand and climbed out of the car. She followed her down the sidewalk of the shopping strip to the golden door of an designer dress shop. "I don't need anything else. You've already done so much for me."

Rita turned. "In case you haven't noticed, Gene was falling all over you last night. Tonight you're going to knock his socks off."

They entered the store and Izzy almost gasped at the price tag of the first dress she slipped her hand over. "I'm not interested in impressing Gene, or any other man right now. I came here for your wedding."