Notes: I will be abroad for work until Thursday and won't be able to translate another chapter until Friday.

Unedited story.

December 1811

Elizabeth stood in her bedchamber, surrounded by the familiar belongings that she and Jane had collected over the years. Her eyes were fixed on the bed that had been the site of countless late-night conversations and shared dreams. The room was filled with an overwhelming sense of melancholy as she thought about her dear sister, who was no longer with her. The memories of their laughter and conversations were now all she had left. She remembered how they would lay in bed together for hours, sharing their deepest secrets and fears, as well as their most cherished hopes and aspirations. Every passing day brought with it a fresh wave of sadness; the bed that had once been a place of warmth, comfort, and joy was now a bittersweet reminder of all that she had lost.

As she closed her eyes, the memories of that fated day came flooding back to her. It was a day that she would never forget. The Bingleys, Mrs. Hurst and Mr. Darcy had been very kind to her and her family during that difficult time. In the midst of all the chaos of the day, Mr. Darcy's doctor had arrived from London. He had examined her father, who was experiencing chest pain. The doctor had given him some medicine and in the next few days, he started feeling better.

The funeral was attended by several families, who came to offer their condolences. Among the mourners were the Gardiners, who made the journey from London, and they stayed at Longbourn for three days.

In the aftermath of the funeral, Elizabeth and her sisters were deeply affected by the loss and spent most of their time indoors. They secluded themselves from the outside world, needing time to grieve and process their emotions.

Two weeks later, her father travelled to London on business and returned a few days later. Upon his return, he had a meeting with her Uncle Phillips that lasted for over an hour. After the meeting, he requested her and Mary to join him in his bookroom.

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears; she vividly remembered the conversation that ensued, which left her feeling deeply saddened and disappointed with her father.

As soon as her father began to speak, he did not waste any time and said, "Your mother, may she rest in peace, used to say that each of you would receive 1.000 pounds when she passed away." After a small pause, he added with a sad tone, "However, that statement is not entirely true, and I feel like I need to explain."

Both looked at their father with confusion, and she asked, "What do you mean, Papa? Please, explain to us."

"When I married your mother, the marriage settlement stated that she would receive 5000 pounds when I die. That money was invested at 4% and I never withdrew the interest. I thought it was not necessary to tell you about it, but I realize now that it was a mistake."

They both looked at him in astonishment. Cautiously, Elizabeth asked, "How much money is in the account, Papa?"

"There is currently 12,000 pounds."

After a moment of eerie silence, Mary asked in a stern tone, "Why did you lie to us?"

"It was not a lie, but an omission, Mary."

They both looked at him in disbelief, and Mr. Bennet continued, "Your mother was a spendthrift woman. If she knew she had more than 5000 pounds, I am certain she would have spent it all in fripperies. This is the main reason why I chose not to tell her anything. It was a way to ensure you would have a better life when I am gone."

Elizabeth's anger started to boil inside her after hearing her father's response. She could not believe that her father had kept such news from them. Her first thought was that if her mother had known they had more than 5000 pounds, perhaps she would not have been so nervous and worried about their future. Perhaps Jane would still be alive.

She clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to calm herself down. She took a deep breath to avoid saying something she would probably regret in the future. Furthermore, she left the bookroom and went to her bedchamber to cry about what could have been, but never was.