Alexander

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With Matthew over at Thomas's house for a sleepover, family dinner at Rodrick and Laura's house had been a quiet affair

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With Matthew over at Thomas's house for a sleepover, family dinner at Rodrick and Laura's house had been a quiet affair.

Eliza had poured the wine, served dinner and bid them bon appétit amidst an ocean of animosity. Rodrick's gaze had remained glued to his plate throughout.

Laura had kept her own gaze on hers. Still, despite not having taken her eyes off her food, she could not say what the meal had comprised of. The smells, the tastes, it had all evaporated as soon as her tea had replaced her half empty plate.

"How is Sarah Baker?" Rodrick asks, breaking the silence as he swirls his whiskey around his glass.

His question startles Laura so much she almost spills her tea on her lap. "Sarah Baker? Why are you asking me about Sarah Baker?" As she speaks, she can hear her heartbeat speeding up in her chest, and wonders if Rodrick can hear it too.

Rodrick looks at her. Laura holds her breath.

"Lawrence has been trying to get in touch with her. He saw you two together at the Inn the other day and wanted to know if she'd told you where she's staying."

Laura releases her breath, slowly, carefully, and begins stirring her tea with undue attention. Of course Lawrence had told Rodrick. Rodrick's network of spies was everywhere. She'd thought Lawrence was too proud to do Rodrick's bidding, but she'd been been wrong. She'd been wrong about so many things, it didn't surprise her anymore.

"She said she was going home, but I don't know where that would be. I never asked," Laura says, her voice still and measured. The truth had found a way through the dirt, as it always did. There was nothing to do now but examine its corpse for answers.

"I don't like it when you keep secrets, Laura."

"I'm not the one with secrets, Rodrick," Laura says. That is not entirely true. Laura has secrets. Big ones, little ones, ones that haunt her at night. But she has a feeling her secrets were nothing compared to his.

"No? You think I don't know about how much you wish you had died with him? How much you wish it was him you woke up to every morning, instead of me?" Rodrick pauses, waiting for his words to sink in before continuing. "Or how you almost told Sarah the truth?"

Laura looks up, startled. So he could still surprise her, then. Those feelings, those thoughts, those words. Those words were almost a carbon copy of her most recent journal entry. Things she hadn't even discussed with Tessa, or Marianne. Things only Laura knew.

Laura fixes Rodrick with a wide-eyed look of disbelief. "You've read my journals." Not a question. Not an accusation. A simple fact. Because of course he had read her journals. How could she have been so naïve to think otherwise? The man who had her followed, who monitored every single move she made... Of course he would have read them.

"Of course I've read them," Rodrick says, echoing her thoughts. His tone betrays no guilt. No shame.

The anger bubbling inside of Laura keeps her mute. But not anger at Rodrick, anger at herself. How could she have believed that her most personal, honest thoughts would have been safe from him? He had violated every single other aspect of her life, of her body. Of course he'd want to take her mind too. She was a fool who made mistake after mistake, and had no one to blame but herself. The war hadn't started yet, and she was already losing. She'd been losing for years.

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