VIII
(Confusion – Andromeda)
She sits in front of her mirror and looks at her reflection. Dark eyes and hair, smooth complexion, a wide flexible mouth, slightly hooded eyes. Not pretty, but Black women were not supposed to be pretty. They were supposed to be memorable. Andromeda was not sure she even managed that. Her looks seemed to her - as to her family - a poor reflection of her elder sister's. They proclaimed her a Black, but an inferior one. Narcissa, with her striking blonde hair and slimmer build, was luckier. No one saw her as an imitation of anyone.
Was that why she was doing this? Was she running away because she couldn't measure up to Bellatrix? Was she scared of always being second best, the disappointing daughter? Did she really love Ted or was he just an excuse to get away? Was she using him in the true Black fashion?
She pulled out the ring, hanging on its long chain inside the neck of her robes. It was not big or ostentatious as a ring from a "suitable" lover would be. It was sapphire and diamond, small, but very pretty.
"Like my girl," Ted had said when he presented it to her. With that memory came the image of Ted's face, earnest and loving, floating in her mind and obscuring her own reflection in the mirror. He loved her, and she loved him, and now she knew it. No room for confusion or doubt; she knew what she would do.