Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“I can’t believe I haven’t come down to the village before at night,” Jane muses.
“I can. You work too much,” Laura says.
“I don’t work that much,” Jane denies reflexively. “This is my first week. I am trying to make a good impression.”
“You have made a good impression on me,” Laura says smoothly, her tone holding just the slightest, lightest, invitational bit of intimacy.
Jane smiles, already well aware that few things impress Laura.
They walk back to Jane’s chateau, chatting about matters of very little importance objectively speaking, but finding themselves entirely engrossed in the conversation anyway. When with a charming companion, all the world suddenly becomes a place of fascination. The most mundane of topics seem to brim with fresh life.
Upon arriving at Jane’s front door, Laura turns to her with a smile. “I hope you had a nice evening.”
“I did, thank you. Did you?”
Laura does not answer verbally. Instead there is an electric moment of possibility, a glance, an invitation…suddenly Laura stiffens and looks over Jane.
“What is that…”
There is something in the garden. Something small and snuffly, hidden by the shadows of the little fence. Jane and Laura approach it to discover a student sniffling in the corner of the garden, a far too thin cardigan wrapped around her shoulders, legs bare to the night cold.
“Storm! What are you doing!?” Jane gasps. “You should be at the chateau. You should be in bed. You should…”
Storm stands up and turns around wordlessly, lifting the hem of her skirt. The light at the front door of the chateau that cast a warm glow over Laura and Jane moments earlier sends out rays to illuminate multiple deep bruise lines criss-crossing across the backs of her legs in marks of blue and black. Jane’s impression is that someone has taken a cane to this girl in the most inexpert and shoddy of manners.
“What happened?”
“The headmistress happened,” Storm says in a half-sob. “I didn’t want to run away. I didn’t want to worry you. But I’m not going back there. She’s psychotic. So I didn’t know what to do. So I came here.”
“Come inside,” Jane says, opening her door. It wasn’t locked, but Storm stayed outside in the garden anyway, choosing to freeze. The only small, faint bit of good in this mess is that at least she sought Jane out instead of simply running away.
Jane points to the couch. “Lay down on your stomach. I’m going to ice those bruises.”
Storm does as she is told, visibly trembling from cold and emotion. She is quiet as Jane takes ice packs, wraps them and puts them over the worst of the marks in an attempt to bring some of the swelling down.
Laura has not said a word throughout, but she has followed them in and closed the door to keep the worst of the night air out.
“Frau Lotte is trustworthy, is she?” Jane says, looking up at Laura, shifting the packs slightly. Storm flinches and bites back a whimper. None of this is good.
Laura frowns. “I have not seen this kind of punishment from her before. It seems excessive.”
“Yes. It does. A reminder stroke across the legs to gain compliance is one thing, but this is… this is brutality. It is not discipline. It is malevolence.”
“You are upset,” Laura observes.
“You could say that.” Jane’s tone contains worlds of understated sarcasm.
“Should we ascertain why and how this happened? Or should we assume the headmistress of an elite private finishing school is an unhinged woman who beats girls for no reason?” Laura is calm.
“Every time I talk someone beats me,” Storm sniffs.
“That might have something to do with the things you say when you talk,” Laura rejoins.
“Maybe,” Storm acknowledges.
“What did you say to Frau Lotte?” Laura asks the question firmly, looking not at Storm, but at Jane.
Storm, to her credit, makes a full and ample confession. “I called her a mean old witch or something, I don’t know. She was trying to cane me, but I wouldn’t let her, and she kept hitting me and telling me to get into position and I kept not doing that…”
“Disobedience, insubordination, disrespect…” Laura counts the sins off on her fingers. “And you have a few bruises to show for it. I see no harm done here.”
Storm takes a little sobbing breath.
“I think I’d best attend to this situation,” Jane says, her tone cooling. “Thank you for your company this evening.”
She does not get up and show Laura the door physically, but her words perform that action admirably. Laura nods and departs without further comment or argument. There is silence in her absence, and a feeling of loss that Jane does not enjoy. It was a lovely evening that has now rather soured.
“Sorry I ruined your date,” Storm mumbles after a few minutes.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jane says, her demeanor entirely professional. Perhaps a little too professional.