Three Years For Their Lie
Lila was sprinting toward a statue for a photo with her favorite limited-edition plushie, when she ran straight into my mother.
Lila looked up to apologize, and the moment my mother saw her face, she froze. A stunned silence hung in the humid air.
Rob, look at her, my mother murmured, her voice thin. Shes Seraphina. Exactly like our Sera at that age.
I pulled my sunhat lower, hurried forward with a quick, generic apology, grabbed Lilas hand, and spun to walk away.
But my fathers voice, unchanged, harsh, pinned me in place. Seraphina Prescott! Ten years! Why haven't you come home?
He stepped closer, his face a mask of practiced hurt. Do you have any idea how much money we spent trying to find you? We looked all over the world.
He took one look at my weathered linen shirt and the simple life stretching behind me on the sand. Youre still so willful, so much less grounded than Briana!
I turned back, my voice flat, calm, and definitive.
Sir, Maam, you have the wrong person. My home is right here.
The home they were talking about, I had left behind a decade ago.
1
Seraphina! What is this attitude? You dont recognize your own parents?
Seeing my silence, my fathers face flushed a deep red. It seems the lesson we gave you wasnt enough!
Before I could speak, five-year-old Lila stepped forward, throwing her arms out wide to shield me.
Mommy is a good person! You are mean people, and you cant bully my mommy!
My fathers hand shot out, his finger trembling as he pointed at me.
Is this your daughter? Fine! No wonder you didnt come home. You ran off with some lowlife!
He raised his hand. Ill beat the willfulness out of you, you ungrateful girl!
The sharp crack of his palm against my cheek echoed the sound that had once shattered my childhood.
When Lila realized Id been hit, she wailed and threw herself at my fathers legs, punching and kicking him with tiny, desperate fists.
Mean man! Dont hit my mommy! My Daddy will fight you!
Ignoring the stinging heat on my face, I yanked Lila back.
Lila, were going home. Now!
My mother rushed up, grabbing my arm.
Sera, stop being dramatic! Your father is just upset because hes missed you!
He missed you so much a few years ago that he had a heart attackhe almost... Just apologize to him and come back with us.
I snatched my arm free. My voice was ice.
My name is Ava Jensen, not Seraphina Prescott. If you follow me, Im calling the police.
With that, I scooped Lila into my arms and walked toward the small inn, not once looking back.
Back at the inn, I collapsed onto a stool behind the bar, feeling hollowed out, unmoored.
Lila, still sniffling, ran into the kitchen and dragged my husband, Owen, out by the apron strings.
Daddy, kiss Mommy! A mean man hit Mommy today!
Hearing this, Owen quickly wiped his hands on his checkered apron and strode over to me.
He pulled me into a fierce hug, then gently cupped my face, turning my head from side to side.
Where? Does it hurt? Come on, Ill take you to the clinic.
I caught his hand and shook my head. Im fine. Just ran into a couple of people Id rather not see.
Owen understood. He didnt ask for details, just pulled me tighter, stroking my back, slow and steady.
Dont worry, Ava. Im here. No one is going to hurt you again.
Lila stretched up on her tiptoes, her soft, little hand patting my forehead, mimicking the way I comforted her.
Mommy, be brave! Dont worry, Lila protects you!
Owen joined the chorus, pitching his voice to match our daughter's sweet, silly tone.
Ava, be brave! Dont worry, your husband protects you!
Watching them, the edges of my vision blurred.
A long, long time ago, I had been cherished that way, too.
I was afraid of the dark, so my parents covered the hallway between their room and mine with glow-in-the-dark stickers.
Dad told me the flower fairies would guide me to them.
I was afraid of thunderstorms, so on rainy nights, theyd set up a small tent in my bedroom.
Wed all three squeeze in, me sandwiched safely between them.
Sera, my girl, be brave! Dont worry, Daddy and Mommy will always protect you!
All of that ended the year I turned seven, the day my mother brought home her best friend's daughter.
Sera, this is Maureens daughter, Briana Weaver. Shell be your sister now.
I was thrilled. I took her hand and led her on a grand tour of my princess room. I gave her the music box my father had brought back from Europe.
I pulled out the designer sundress, the one I treasured most.
Bree, this was my birthday gift from Mom. Its custom-made. The only one in the world!
Briana took the dress, looked at it for a second, and then violently flung it on the floor, stomping her foot down hard on the delicate fabric.
What are you doing! I shrieked, pushing her away.
The crisp, new fabric was ruined with muddy footprints.
Briana sat down instantly and erupted into dramatic, gasping sobs.
Her cry brought my mother running. She rushed in, picked up Briana, and hugged her close, soothing her.
Bree, darling, what happened? Tell Aunt Victoria.
Hiding in my mothers embrace, Briana choked out a lie. Sera called me a charity case and said I wasnt allowed to touch her things
Aunt Victoria, where is my Mommy? I miss her. Did she really leave me?
My mothers eyes instantly filled with tears. She hugged Briana tight. Bree, sweetheart! Im your mother now.
Then, she turned and yelled at me, her voice sharp and unfamiliar.
Seraphina Prescott! How could you be so insensitive? Apologize to Briana, right now!
I pointed at the ruined dress on the floor, my own eyes swimming.
But she stomped on my dress first!
A silly piece of cloth is more important than your sisters feelings? You are so spoiled!
But you made it for me I whispered, my voice breaking. I havent even worn it once.
Seraphina, we have clearly spoiled you rotten, my mother sighed, rubbing her temples. You will stay in your room tonight and think about what youve done.
She took Briana to The City Grille, the upscale restaurant I had been begging to visit. That night, she brought me back a small slice of stale carrot cake.
Mom told me Briana was a poor, sad girl. She had lost her father, and now her mother.
I had to be the understanding one. I needed to let her have things.
Eating the cake, I nodded dumbly.
But that single allowance cost me everything I owned.
If Briana wanted it, my mother would simply say, Sera, let Briana have it.
My dolls. My bedroom. Even my passion.
When I was ten, the painting Id worked on for six months was entered into a prestigious national competition by Briana, who won first prize.
I confronted my mother, demanding to know why.
Youve won so many awards, whats the harm in letting her have this one? Bree needs this prize to secure her apprenticeship.
But I worked on that for half a year! I screamed at her.
Enough! My father emerged from his study, his face thunderous.
If it takes you six months to finish one painting, you have no talent anyway. Stop this nonsense!
That evening, I ran a dangerously high fever.
While I lay burning up, delirious, they were out at a lavish dinner party for Brianas new mentor.
It was my grandmother, who drove in from the country the next day, who found me and rushed me to the hospital.
The doctor said an hour more and the fever would have caused brain damage.
Grandma lost it. She took me back to her simple farmhouse, ignoring my parents protests.
They tried to call me home, but every time they planned a trip, Briana would conveniently fall ill or run away.
Eventually, they stopped calling. And I stopped asking.
The years with Grandma were the most peaceful of my life. She didnt call me Seraphina; she called me Ava.
She said I was her best girl, her top-notch granddaughter, the best girl in the world.
But Grandmas health failed. When I was a senior in high school, she was hospitalized again, and she insisted my parents take me back for my final year of school.
I carried a massive bag of Grandmas famous buttermilk biscuits, full of anticipation, and burst through the door.
Grandma said Mom loved these biscuits when she was little.
The housekeeper, however, informed me my parents had taken Briana on a trip to Europe.
For three days, I kept the biscuits warm, waiting.
Sera, Mommy missed you so much! My mother rushed in and hugged me the second they got home.
My father ruffled my hair. Kid, youve grown taller!
I was about to hand over the bag of biscuits when Briana let out a sharp, dramatic shriek.
They instantly dropped me and rushed to her.
Mommy, Daddy, I wanted to give Seraphina a gift, but I pinched my hand on the suitcase latch! Briana wailed, her eyes overflowing with tears.
Im so clumsy!
My mother blew gently on her fingers.
Silly girl, how will you paint now that youve hurt your hand?
Look how red it is! Come on, were going to the emergency room. My fathers face was etched with concern as he grabbed the car keys.
Sera, Brianas hurt. Were taking her to the hospital.
As they walked out, my mother glanced at the biscuits in my hand. Those things are pure carbs, Sera. Youll pack on the weight and get zits.
I looked down at the blister on my own hand, where hot grease had popped during the baking. I sat down and slowly ate every single biscuit.
That night, I told my parents I was moving into the campus dorms.
They initially refused, but after Brianas saccharine, good-hearted suggestion that I needed space to study, they consented.
The day I received my university acceptance letter, I flew home to pack.
Grandmas greatest regret was never having seen the ocean.
I chose a college right on the coast. I was going to take her there.
I pulled my suitcase to the front door, my hand on the knob, when my phone rang.
It was the county hospital.
Is this Seraphina Prescott? Your grandmother shes in critical condition. You need to come quickly
The phone slipped from my fingers and smashed on the floor.
I stumbled out the door. My parents were standing there, their faces pale and distraught.
Mom the hospital called Grandma shes dying I collapsed into my mothers arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Take me take me to the hospital I have to see her one last time.
Sera, your grandmother will be fine. Well take you right away.
My mother held me close, stroking my back. But first, promise Mommy one thing. Please?
What? I looked up through my tears.
Help Briana! My mother gestured behind my father.
Briana peered out, smelling strongly of alcohol, shaking like a leaf.
A cold wave of dread washed over me.
Whats wrong with her?
Briana she was drinking tonight, and she drove she hit someone. She panicked and left the scene. My mothers voice was shaking.
I instantly understood, but I forced myself to ask.
What do you want me to do?
My mother gripped my arm tightly.
Sera, help her. Take the blame for her, okay?
Briana is still so young. She has no parents left, her life has been hard enough. She cant have a criminal record. It would ruin her. She would kill herself!
I yanked my arm away, my voice a raw scream. What about me? Is my life disposable? Can I be ruined?
How can you even think that? My mother looked genuinely wounded.
You are our daughter, a Prescott! Even with a stain, youll always be our cherished Seraphina. We can afford to take care of you forever!
This will not affect your future!
I looked at her, and a strange, terrible laugh escaped me.
I cant help you with this.
If you wont take me to Grandma, Ill go myself!
I grabbed my suitcase and rushed for the door.
Stop right there!
My father bellowed. Two bodyguards appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me, holding me fast.
If you dont agree today, you wont take one step out that door!
I looked from him to my mother standing behind him.
Mom, thats your mother! You dont care if she lives or dies?
Sera, your grandmother has doctors. But Briana? If we dont help her now, its a death sentence!
My mother began to wail. Briana said shed die if she went to jail! Seraphina, please, just pity your mother. Save her life!
As she screamed, she snatched the car keys from my hand and tossed them to the lawyer standing nearby. Then she pulled out her phone and, right in front of me, dialed 911.
Hello, Id like to report a crime. The person who committed the hit-and-run on Coastal Road was my daughter, Seraphina Prescott.
When she hung up, I looked at them, tears streaming down my face from laughter.
Mr. and Mrs. Prescott, you truly are pillars of the community.
I stopped struggling and spoke calmly. Fine. I agree to take the fall for Briana Weaver.
But you must immediately take me to the hospital. I have to see my grandmother.
When we arrived, it was too late.
Grandma had stopped breathing thirty minutes earlier.
I knelt by the hospital bed, unfolding my university acceptance letter and placing it where she could see.
Grandma, look! Ava got into college. Ava can take you to the ocean now!
The police escorted me out of the hospital shortly after.
At the station, I tried to recant.
But my parents, with the help of their high-powered lawyer, had already manufactured a flawless chain of evidence.
The day of the trial, my parents sat in the front row of the gallery.
Briana was nestled in my mothers arms, weeping theatrically. My mother stroked her back, her eyes full of pity. My father sat beside them, whispering comforts.
I never looked at them again.
I was convicted of hit-and-run and sentenced to three years in prison.
First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "303083" to read the entire book.
MotoNovel
Novellia
Bookworm« Previous Post
My Ex Husband’s Reckoning
Next Post »
The Day I Turned Our Wedding Into Her Funeral