Chapter 17

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The following morning, Vera Claythorne woke herself up at the earliest hour of which she was capable. The light in her bedroom was pale and frosty this morning, and the sky had not yet filled with the warm yellows and oranges that often accompanied a rising sun. Oh, how wonderful the sunrises always were on the island, Vera thought to herself. She let her head rest once again on her pillow, pulling another into her arms. And the sunsets; always so completely full of warmth and wonder. Perhaps, when all of this was over, she could find Hugo again... so that they might be together. She allowed her eyes to flutter shut as she imagined Hugo once again. They could stay on this island! Oh, yes, how Hugo would love it here! Away from everything. Yes, here, they would start a family. They would be so happy on this island... the edges of Vera's mouth curled into a lovely smile.

She remembered then what she had to do: her next task for the next little soldier boy. A big bear hugged one, Vera giggled quietly, squeezing the pillow tightly in her arms, And then there were two. William Henry Blore had to be the next to pay for what he did. Committing perjury and lying under oath to send an innocent man to jail in order to gain a promotion at work. How absolutely abhorrent he was... in Vera's opinion.

She rose from her bed and walked, almost danced, over to her dresser. Ever-so-quietly, she opened one of the drawers, revealing some folded dresses and shawls. Running her open hand over the fabrics, she found a blue dress that she had taken quite a liking to and removed it from the drawer. She held it up in front of a mirror, admiring herself and its simplicity, and lifted her nightgown over her head, throwing it on the bed next to her. Vera pulled on the baby blue dress and adjusted it to her waist. The narrow skirt widened softly below her hips and then stopped at her mid-calf, as was the fashion as of late.

She reached again to her nightstand and revealed the brush from yesterday, ornate gold patterns, fake pearl embellishments and all. Passing the brush through her hair once more, she laid it again on the nightstand and began walking to the window. It was time.

What Vera had to do was simple: just take the bear-shaped block of white marble that sat on her mantlepiece and hang it from her open window. When Blore was in position, she had set up a tripwire system to drop the marble from its place, crushing and, with the right amount of luck and preparation, killing him. She had been especially excited about this murder (or "world cleansing", as she preferred them to be called), planning all the intricate details for over a year. Yes, this would be of utmost satisfaction to her.

Her eyes locked with the small almond-shaped holes cut into the face of the statue. Though she was but little, Vera actually had extraordinary power and strength. Rubbing her hands together in a vicious manner, she grabbed at the statue, pulling it towards her chest and allowing her arms and body to absorb its full weight. And what weight it had to it!

Vera let out a few small grunts as she lifted it from its place on the mantle and toddled with it to the window. Although the space between them was small, Vera's arms began aching in protest of the sudden weight. Lifting the marble onto the windowsill was a difficult feat. This would have been easier if she had had a partner. Someone there with her to help.

Her mind flashed quickly to Hugo and she shook her head vigorously, hoping the image would unlodge itself from her head. No, she told herself sternly. Blore and Lombard first. When this is over, I shall dream of Hugo all I want, but I must first accomplish the matter at hand. She pushed the statue forward with her chest so that most of its weight had been transferred to the edge of the window, and quickly tied a group of heavy ropes around it to keep it from falling too soon. Ensuring that it was, in fact, secure, Vera stepped back into the center of her room to admire her own handiwork.

She pulled the white lace curtain over the whole affair, leaving it almost completely hidden if not for a few odd pleats in the fabric. She walked back to the mantlepiece, wiping all the dust from around the silhouette of the base of the bear.

"Perhaps I should have waited to kill the Rogers'... they would have been an awful lot of help keeping things tidy," Vera said quietly. She laughed then. A low, jolly laugh, sweet as honey unless someone were to know the cause of it. Her hand lifted and placed itself graciously over her mouth to muffle the sound.

"Shhh!" she told herself. "You mustn't wake the others!" she smiled widely and strode purposefully back over to her bed, lying down against the adorned wooden headboard. She remembered then the dream she had been having. She was telling Cyril that she would act as a distraction his parents so that he could finally swim out to the far rock, as he had demanded so many times before. If she pictured it hard enough, she would surely be able to return to such a lovely dream. As she closed her eyes once more, she heard the waves rocking against the shore, and Cyril's young and exuberant voice ringing through her ears. No matter how many times she imagined it, she would never change a detail.

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