Beatrice arrived shortly after, bringing a lunchbox filled with soft tiramisu. She grinned at me.
"Eleanor, try this."
I took a bite, just as I was about to speak, but she beat me to it.
"I know what you're going to say."
She smiled mischievously."Don't worry. I have a solution."
"...Just tell me what Alaric did to force them. I'll handle the rest."
"Does it have to be coercion?"
Beatrice sipped her coffee, grimacing at its bitterness before looking at me again.
"Those board members are old-timers who built the Ashford legacy. Alaric brought his grandfather in to appeal to their emotions. They're at an age where sentiment outweighs logic."
"That's problematic."
I frowned, deep in thought.
Beatrice, however, smiled calmly."Don't worry, Eleanor. I have a plan."
She reached up and removed her sunflower hair clip, carefully placing it in front of me.
"This was the first birthday gift you gave me when we met.
"Eleanor, can you put it on for me?"
I didn't understand her insistence on such ceremonies, but her expectant gaze made it impossible to refuse.
Motioning for her to bend down, I carefully pinned the sunflower clip to her hair, brushing aside her bangs.
Beatrice burst into tears, clutching me tightly, burying her face against my chest. Her sobs soaked through my blazer, sounding like the cries of a small, hungry animal.
After hesitating briefly, I patted her back.
Between her sobs, she said, "Eleanor, you can never forget me. Never."
---
It wasn't until three days later that I understood what she meant.
Because she was dead—along with Alaric.
A mysterious fire consumed the villa Alaric had bought for them, leaving behind two charred bodies bound together by chains. In one hand, Beatrice clutched the sunflower hair clip tightly.
She had used her life to pave my way.
As Alaric's widow, I inherited all his assets. I finally stood in the position I had longed for, but it brought me no joy.
That night, I dreamed of their final moments.
In my dream, Alaric was on the phone, ranting about hiring underground forces to kill me. His words were frenzied.
"I want her dead. I don't care what it costs—I'll pay anything. She has to die, do you understand?"
Outside the room, Beatrice listened quietly, her fingers twisting the hem of her white nightgown.
At midnight, she rose carefully, retrieving the chains Alaric had hidden away. One loop at a time, she bound him to the bed.
Alaric woke, intrigued rather than alarmed."Darling, feeling adventurous tonight?"
Beatrice smiled, but when her wrist moved, the scars from countless whippings on her pale arm were visible.
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper."I wasn't planning to hurt you... but you shouldn't have tried to kill Eleanor."
She doused him with gasoline, ignoring his screams, and threw a lit candle onto him.
In the roaring flames, I saw her clutching the sunflower clip tightly.
The pain of burning flesh twisted her features into a grotesque mask as she collapsed onto the floor. Gazing in my direction, she mouthed something silently.
It looked like: "I—"
I woke up with a start.
---
I found some time to visit Beatrice's grave.
Staring at her bright, smiling face and those clear eyes in the photo, I couldn't help but touch the dimple on her cheek.
"The Ashford family wasn't worth it.
"If you had told me sooner, I would have preferred failure over using you to deal with Alaric.
"Beatrice."
I gazed at her, suddenly at a loss for words.
What could I even ask? What could I say?
In the end, all I could manage were two quiet questions:
"You said you didn't want their affection... so whose did you want?"
And: "Was dying for me worth it?"
A breeze swept past, rustling the sunflower petals on her grave. They reflected the sunlight onto her pure, beautiful face.
But I'd never get the answers.
