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CHAPTER TWO ❝unbreakable❞
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THERE WAS A GIRL, FIFTEEN, STANDING IN THE BACKYARD OF AN ABANDONED HOUSE LOOKING TO THE GROUND. She stood under an umbrella as the rained poured down around her, a gloomy day for what most would consider a gloomy event. She adorned a black dress that she had just received that year with flats on her feet as she looked at the newly shoveled ground.
It would look suspicious to those who saw her; a young girl with her skin tone alone with a patch of brown dirt amongst the blossoming green grass. As if she was standing over an unmarked grave, covering up a crime that she had just committed. And those who were neighbors would know that the house she stood in the back of had been empty – or what they suspected to be empty – for months, yet now this girl they had seen grow up there wearing black with a blank expression on her face.
There were no tears brimming in her eyes, no guilt. No compassion for the ground she glared holes into. Just a cold, emotionless look coating her features; a look that she had learned to perfect through the past year. One that she had been honing for years before, if she were being honest.
The young girl said nothing to the ground she looked down upon, but most would think it weird for her to say anything at all to the ground. It was just dirt and they did not know what lied beneath. Of course, she logically knew that in a few years – probably when a new family came to live in the house – the secret would be uncovered, but at the current moment it was just that; a secret.
Not a small one, no, small would be trespassing onto property or knowing that Philip Queen fancied Mai Clearwater. Small would be covering up whereabouts of a person one night. This...it was not small, it was large, but she would keep it all the same. A nice secret that she never had to let anyone know.
Soon, she heard footsteps approached behind her but she said nothing, didn't even turn to look at the figure who went to stand by her. There was silence between the pair and she didn't look to see who it was, knowing already the only person who it could be.
"Is this where you buried him?" the deep voice of her uncle asked.
Rosalie nodded at the question, eyes still trained to the ground as she said, "I didn't see the point in wasting money to have him buried in the cemetery."
"It would be with your mother," her Uncle Kingsley pointed out, though there was nothing in his voice that suggested he thought that the man earned the right to be there and nothing that suggested he would place him there for his eternal resting place.
"Yes, it would," Rosalie agreed because he spoke the truth even if it was not the right one, "But this is the place he deserves to be buried."
