Chapter 48: The Test

We had to be seen. That was the plan. If Eleanor was going to sell the lie that I was the beloved sister, I was going to make her choke on it.

The twins' school recital was a mandatory event. The kind of social function where the Vane family sat in the front row, radiating wealth and unity. Eleanor would be there, holding court. Richard would be playing the doting father.

And Catherine... Catherine was coming with me.

I found her in the guest house garden, painting. The canvas was a mess of grey and black, but in the center was a single, perfect yellow flower. A dandelion.

"Catherine," I said, keeping my voice low. "We're going out."

She didn't look up. "I'm not allowed."

"Today you are," I said, kneeling beside her. "We're going to see the boys. At their school."

Her brush stopped. She turned to me, her eyes wide and fearful. "The boys? My... my nephews?"

"Yes," I lied, my heart aching. "Your nephews."

I helped her dress. I found a silk scarf to cover the bruises on her neck—faint, old marks from years of 'treatments'. I put lipstick on her, trying to bring some color back to her pale face.

"You look beautiful," I said.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. "I look like a ghost."

"You look like a Vane," I said. "And today, that's all that matters."

We drove to the school in my car. I parked right in front, ignoring the reserved spots. I took Catherine's arm, linking it through mine. Her body was rigid, trembling with a mixture of terror and anticipation.

We walked into the auditorium. The air smelled of floor wax and expensive perfume.

Eleanor was already there, her wheelchair positioned at the end of the front row. Richard was beside her, checking his phone.

When they saw us, the air left the room.

Richard’s phone clattered to the floor. Eleanor’s face went slack, her carefully applied makeup cracking under the strain of her shock.

I didn't stop. I walked Catherine right up to them.

"Hello, Eleanor," I said, my voice carrying over the chatter of the other parents. "Look who felt well enough to join us."

Heads turned. Whispers started. *Is that Catherine? The sister? I thought she was in a facility.*

Eleanor recovered first. Her eyes narrowed into slits of pure malice.

"Elena," she said, her voice a low hiss. "What have you done?"

"I'm just being a good sister-in-law," I said, smiling brightly for the benefit of the PTA president who was watching from the next row. "Catherine wanted to see the boys perform. Didn't you, Cat?"

Catherine nodded, her eyes fixed on the stage. She was gripping my arm so hard it hurt.

"Sit down," Richard hissed, grabbing Catherine's other arm. "Before you cause a scene."

"We're not causing a scene, Richard," I said, pulling Catherine closer to me. "We're just family."

I sat down next to Eleanor. I put Catherine between me and Richard. A human shield.

The lights dimmed. The curtain rose.

Twenty first-graders walked onto the stage, dressed as forest animals. I saw Leo in his squirrel costume. Sam was a tree.

Catherine let out a small, strangled sound.

"My baby," she whispered.

It was quiet, but in the silence of the auditorium, it sounded like a scream.

Eleanor stiffened. She reached across Catherine and gripped her wrist, her nails digging into the thin skin.

"Be quiet," Eleanor whispered, her voice a razor blade. "Or I will take you back to the basement myself."

Catherine flinched, shrinking away from her.

I leaned forward.

"Let go of her, Eleanor," I whispered. "Or I'll stand up right now and introduce her to the entire school board as Richard's first wife."

Eleanor’s grip tightened. Her knuckles went white. She looked at me, and for the first time, I saw genuine fear in her eyes.

"You wouldn't dare," she said.

"Try me."

On stage, the children began to sing. A happy, innocent song about sunshine and growing up.

Beside me, Catherine began to weep. Silent, shaking sobs that racked her thin frame.

Eleanor didn't let go. She twisted Catherine's wrist, hard. A punishment. A warning.

"Smile," Eleanor hissed. "Smile, or you'll never see the light of day again."