Chapter One
I looked into my mother's piercingly green eyes and saw the lies hidden inside the dark circles around her irises. Narrowing my own identical eyes I stared ruthlessly back at her, determined to find the truth in the elegant curves of her face. She blinked, looked away, and I felt the pressure from her eyes leave me immediately. "Ina, go find Daddy." She said dismissively. "No. I want answers." My mother shook her head; making her flaming curls swing about frenziedly. "There is nothing you need to know. You'll forget about it in no time, pet." I stamped my foot and stubbornly refused to leave. "I know you're hiding something from me. I won't leave until you tell me why you're lying to your own daughter." "Ina, sweetheart, there are some things you don't need to know. Some things better off left alone. Some locked doors are best left alone. My mother did the same thing. Oh, how I wish she were here." My beautiful mother gazes around our sitting room, taking in the lovely paintings and expensive furniture. "There is nothing I want more than to tell you, dear, but I'm afraid it would be too much for you to handle. Now go and find Daddy. He's in his study. I'm sure he'd love to see you, Ina." Defeated and bitter, I relent and stomp off towards my father's study shouting a threat back over my shoulder that she can't ignore. "In three months I turn sixteen and then I'm going to Spence. We'll see how much you'll be able to hide from me then!" I just have time to see the look on my mother's face, disconcertion mixed with a little of something else… something unfamiliar and hard that I haven't seen in her eyes before. And then the door slams behind me and I am running up to father's study in search of a sympathetic friend.
My father puts down his book when I enter and turns his beaming smile on me. It's the warmest smile I've ever seen and it catches me completely off guard. I smile back timidly and walk to the front of his desk. He puts his laced fingers upon the hard, sleek wood and stares at me over the rims of his reading glasses. "Well, Ina, what can I do for you?" He speaks to me as if I am an adult, not like mother who always treats me like a petulant four-year-old instead of a fifteen-year-old. "Good evening, father." I say formally. It's our little game; we treat each other as if we are coworkers. He laughs, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, and stares at me with his deep, blue eyes so different from my mother's and mine. The nameplate on his desk said Mr. Simon Middleton. I sighed, making myself sit in the chair across from him and ask him the question I need to know the answer to. "Daddy," I said, my voice uncharacteristically soft. The word sounded strange on my lips, as though it didn't belong there anymore. "Why won't mother let me go to Spence?" My father sighed contemplatively. "Well, darling, I think it's because of what happened to her there." My flaming curiosity has been lit and I lean in closer, wanting more. "What happened?" Father sighed again. He does that a lot lately. "One of her very good friends died there. She hates talking about it." What? I've never heard about this! Why wouldn't my mother tell me something this important? "What friend?" Father shakes his head sadly. "I don't know. Something with a 'P'. Apparently it was quite a tragedy." He looks at me sternly as I digest this piece of news. "Look, Ina, I don't want you interrogating your mother about this alright? She's got enough on her plate without you bothering her." I nod vaguely, knowing this isn't the only reason and that both my parents are hiding something very crucial from me. "It's not fair." I say childishly. I know I'm whining but I can't make myself stop. "I know, Ina. Just… let your mother think about it for a while, deary." I look at his pale skin, so unlike my olive complexion and feel, not for the first time, that we are somehow unconnected. Not like a father and his daughter should be. The familiar twisting feeling knots up the inside of my stomach and I rise quickly, wishing to be out of the danger zone. "Thank you, father." I say, briskly, and I step hurriedly from the room.
In the hall, I lean against the polished oak door and breath deeply. It's not the first time I've noticed the differences between my parents and I. For one thing, I have darker hair than either of them. It's curly, exactly like my mothers, only it's almost black as opposed to my mother's fiery hair and my father's chestnut. The other noticeable difference is my skin. It's dark, as I said before, but not so dark that I could be mistaken for African or Oriental, just dark enough for me to have a dark tan. The other differences cannot be seen as much, like my slight, cat-like frame. Neither my mother nor my father is built like that. Maybe I've imagined it but I think they are hiding something from me. Something that makes my grandfather smile at me sadly and look sternly at my mother. Something that makes my ancient great grandmother who defies death with a stony glance look away from me with an expression of disdain on her wizened, crinkled, paper face. I look at pictures of my grandmother and I see her piercingly green eyes and her beautiful red hair and porcelain skin. I know I am different, and that is why I must go to Spence. My history lies there somewhere, I know it, and Mother wishes for me to ignore my history and go on living my life without knowing who I really am. I've contemplated confronting my mother, but I am not that cruel. I couldn't put her under that amount of direct pressure. Not when she is already so fragile.
No. There is only one solution to my problem; Spence. Without Spence I know nothing, without Spence I am denied knowledge and denied myself. I don't want to go, I need to go. And nothing is going to stop me ever again. I will get to that finishing school if it kills me. But I won't die until I have learned the truth so even that option isn't open to me. And so I edit my statement; I will get to that finishing school.
Chapter Two
Two months later, as I get into the coach with my stony faced mother, I feel only the tiniest twinge of guilt. There is no reason I should be denied the opportunity to go to Spence. Every other girl is going, and even if my reasons are different from theirs, mine are good reasons nonetheless. "I hope you're happy now, Ina." I smile smugly, knowing I've won. "I am. Are you?" I know the answer; she doesn't have to answer me with her piercing stare as she does now. It isn't fair how much she can do with those green eyes. People call them beautiful, powerful, entrancing. What do they call mine? Spooky, creepy and unnatural. Well, that's how it will always be with me I guess. I will always be different from mother, no matter how hard I try. I can't help thinking that the reason we don't get along is all the secrets she has to hide from me. And I can't help but thinking that if I found out all her secrets then our relationship would be much better, much more like a mother daughter relationship.
The coach jerks slightly and mother jumps. I look at her, amazed, as I see that hard look come into her eyes that I've only seen once before. And suddenly, I realize that the look is one of sheer terror. Disconcerted, I look out of my window just in time to see that we are passing through the poor part of town. I've never seen this part of London before and it intrigues me. I can't help but stare as we pass starving children with torn clothes and dirty faces. "Mother, why do they have to live like that? Can't someone give them money so they can have better lives?" The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Stupid, stupid Ina! How could you ask such a question? Dear god, I always forget that we are the richest family I know. I might as well ask my father why he doesn't give food and shelter to homeless children. "Ina, must you bring up such distasteful subjects?" My mother raises her arched eyebrows and I feel as if I shall sink through the upholstered seat right onto the muddy ground. Sorry I asked. Next time I'll just come out and say that we are greedy and horrible. That would make for much more pleasant conversation, wouldn't it Mother? Why must she be so proper? She can't have been that way all her life. She must have laughed once or twice in her life.
I slip into silence as we rumble into dense forest and the coach is shrouded in dappled darkness. I can't wait to get there. My whole life is ahead of me, my entire history is ahead of me, the reason why most of me looks nothing like my parents is just a few miles into this freckled-with-light darkness. "About ten more minutes, Miss." The driver Calls down to us, and my mother smiles and nods her assent. I sigh loudly, hoping to draw her attention, but I get nothing but a cold glance for of my horse-like efforts. After three or four minutes my mother starts looking impatiently out of the window, as if she's expecting something. She cranes her neck, searching for something I can only imagine, and after a few more minutes a smile lights up her beautiful face like a sunbeam. "Ina, look!" She's so excited all of a sudden that I have to look. And I see the pillars, the high turrets, the fanged gargoyles and the menacing oak doors of Spence. "It's not how I pictured it… It's a lot more menacing than I thought it would be." Mother smiled fondly at the school, her eyes full of memory. "Oh yes…" She said, her voice soft. "It's absolutely terrifying when you first see it. Dear old Spence." She laughs to herself and calls to the driver, "Can't you hurry a little bit?" I've never seen my mother like this. She's like a child going on holiday, and I like her better this way. She seems so genuinely happy to be back. I can't imagine why she didn't want me to come here. And then the coach rumbles to a stop and she jumps quickly out. "Come on Ina! Oh my. It's been too long." I scramble out, following her as quickly as I could and stumbling awkwardly as my boots hit the gravel. "Wait for me!" I say with a whine. "It is me who's going, isn't it?" But mother isn't listening to me; She's rushing up to the door, her skirts trailing behind her, unable to keep up with her sudden rush.
"Gemma?" My mother freezes, her back going rigid, and turns to face the heavily accented voice. I turn too and see a colorfully clothed man coming out of the forest behind us. He has a dark blue kerchief around his neck. His skin is olive colored and his hair is such a dark brown that it's almost black in the fading sunlight. Mother breathes slowly and shakes her head as if trying to shake off a memory. Then she whispers a name so low it's almost silent. "Kartik…" The man looks just as stunned as she does. His hand is frozen in mid air as if he had been about to brush his hair out of his dark, dramatic eyes. I look from him to my mother, my eyes searching for something, anything. It's no use; I can't see a single thing that they might have in common. How does she know him? How does he know her? What am I missing? What other secrets must I now reveal? "I had no idea you were coming." He says. His voice is beautiful, heavy and rich. He blinks slowly, his long, thick lashes brushing his cheeks for an instant, and then his eyes pull away from hers and turn to me. His face goes blank, his mouth opens slightly and a whisper escapes that catches in the breeze and is carried away so that I can almost think I've imagined it. The intensity of his stare is too much. I peal my eyes away and stare down at my boring, brown shoes. It's terrifying, the recognition lodged in his large, chocolate eyes. "Oh god." He says quietly, his hand falling limply to his side. "I was just dropping Ina of here." Says my mother. Her voice is trembling with some restrained emotion. The man's eyes are still scrutinizing me. I squirm as I feel his gaze puncture my skin. "Ina…" He whispers into the wind, his velvet voice floating through me as if he had touched me. "Yes." Says mother; her voice still shocked and disconcerted. "Ina, this is Kartik… a… a friend of mine." I'm not sure what to say. This man is obviously a gypsy, and yet he knows my mother. Apparently, he knows me too by the way he is looking at me. "Pleased to meet you." I say politely. Kartik says nothing to me. He looks at mother. "Does she know?" He says quietly. Know what? What do I know? What do I not know? "No." says mother softly. "I'm sorry, Kartik." I'm not sure what she's apologizing about, my not knowing, or her words to come. "We have an appointment." The man nods slowly and looks at me with a soft but penetrating look. For a moment, a think I see him smile at me. His eyes are definitely kind. "Of course." He says. "I won't keep you." And then he disappears into the woods with a flash of dark blue against the twilight. I turn to my mother, ready to interrogate her or get mad at her, only to see her sink to the ground and burst into anguished sobs.