Chapter 23-Jane

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Hope stared at her reflection in the mirror.  Her fists clenched, her expression serious.  She stood so stiffly she felt like a statue. 

Pale, with dark shadows of exhaustion beneath her eyes, she resembled a ghost in black.  Grief weighed her down threatening to suffocate her. 

She shivered at her reflection, the black silk dress she wore suddenly feeling cold, clinging to her in an unnatural fashion.
She turned away from the mirror with a tired sigh.  Black had been a common color she'd chosen since she returned to the manor. 

It was a terribly long two weeks spending the majority of the time in her room or outside by the lake seeking out the comfort and peace the openness offered. 

Some moments were tougher than others.  At times, she could barely breathe through the sorrow constricting her chest.  It took many moments of self-will to gather the strength to breathe again and not lose herself to the tears and misery. 

Gradually, she became accustomed to knowing she would never see Zayn again.  Never hear his voice, or see his smile, or his passionate kisses that always made her toes curl. 

Slowly, she began to accept her life would have a constant void in it. 

Tempted beyond measure to contact Zayn on more than one occasion but as always she was a coward.  It had been two weeks since she stole from him.  The transfer must have gone through and in no time, after a thorough investigation, he would eventually find out what she did.

The guilt was eating her alive tenfold.  It was profound enough to kill her.  Every night, after struggling against sleep, her eyes drifted closed, eventually exhaustion consumed where there were times she wished she'd never wake up. How much longer she could live with herself, would be a testament of her will. 

Taking a deep breath, she emerged from her room and walked slowly toward the stairs that early afternoon, but as she began her descent, her gaze was drawn to the open doors of Colin's study.  Admittedly, Hope stayed cooped up in her room deciding to skip meals in order to avoid Colin during breakfast time. 

He spent more time in his study than any other part of the house since her arrival.  He was always in a foul mood; witnessing the pinched, uncomfortable looks of the staff leaving the room after delivering tea or coffee to him. 

Hope avoided him most of the time except when they took their meals in the dining room.  They scarcely exchanged a few words of greeting.  There were times when she dined alone which was completely fine by her. 

Jack's visits had been scarce.  There was a time when she first returned to the manor, fresh, innocent and clueless to their antics, Jack was around nearly everyday. Colin and Jack's patterns were completely off from what she was accustomed to since her return.

Hope frowned. The house was unusually deserted and too quiet.  During this time of the day the household staff were in full swing managing their duties to keep the manor afloat. 

How odd, she thought, searching her surroundings. Something felt . . .wrong.

The doors to Colin's study were wide open.  The doors were never open.  It meant Colin was not there. . . Or did it?

Hope debated, her hand resting on the post as she studied the open doors with a mixture of dread and curiosity. 

She was tempted to peek inside as she descended the stairs.  Should she?  Her curiosity was piqued.

By the time she reached the last step, she found herself approaching the room. Stealing a quick glance over her shoulder, she braced herself for what or who lay within.

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