The letters seemed to tell a story I already knew. Father had arranged for me to be kidnapped in order to make me a tortured soul eligible to inherit the family fortune, and Grandmother had implored him to reconsider, but to no avail. The only elaboration the letters seemed to offer came in the form of a few minor details. Still, it could prove useful to have material evidence of his scheme. I would hold on to these.

I dressed myself in a dark dress with long sleeves, one that concealed all of my bruises. If I could ignore the aching that came with every movement, I would be able to function as normal; in truth, the memory of my attack was far more painful than the remnants of it. 

I left my room and made my way back to the dining room. Amanda was still present, as I had hoped - we had unfinished business.

"I don't really care if you think I'm crazy," I said, "But you should not tell Vivian that my necklace is back in the house." My voice was stern; I couldn't help that. "She is just as scared of it as I am, if not more so. The last thing she needs is something else to worry about. So if you care about her well being at all, please hold your tongue regarding this matter."

With that, I sat at the table, unconcerned with whether I'd be viewed as rude, and was served. I began eating immediately. The night had been long and miserable; some sustenance was long overdue.