Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Are you sure you have to go?” she asks Christopher. “I was so hoping for you to be at tonight’s party. So many people want to see you and talk to you. Everyone had been absolutely devastated at your funeral.”
“I’m sure there will be many more parties,” Christopher says as he puts down his suitcase and gives his mother a hug. “Ember will be there for the both of us.”
“Alone? Do you feel that Amber should be alone?”
“Ember,” I correct. I hate when she calls me Amber, which she now does every single time.
“Your name is Amber, dear. Amber Jennings. Remember?”
She’s talking to me like I’m a child. She almost has a singsong tone to each syllable, and I want to scream at her. My name is Ember. Ember!
“Mom, we discussed this. Ember prefers the name she’s always known.”
“But her legal name is Amber.”
“Mom,” Cristopher warns. “As I was saying, Ember will love meeting your friends in my spot.”
Louisa shoots another glare my way. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? There will be a lot of people there and—”
“She’ll be fine,” he says as he walks over to me and quickly pecks my lips, and then adds, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He picks up his suitcase and walks out the door before calling out, “You ladies have fun tonight. But don’t have too much without me.”
When the door closes, Louisa turns her attention on me. “It’s semi-formal tonight. If you plan on attending, make sure you are dressed accordingly.” She points at my ballet shoes I’ve slowly gotten used to wearing. “Those will not do. You really should get some heels like a proper lady.”
I usually feel a sense of shame every time Louisa points out something she finds wrong about me, but not in regards to the shoes. They were from a friend’s store, and I’m proud of them. “Christina told me these shoes are very in style.” I notice my voice is haughty, and although foreign, I feel it’s appropriate to have toward this woman.
“Who? Christina? She has that boho shop I wouldn’t be caught dead in.” Louisa looks as if she’s smelling something foul, but then she notices the catering department is not setting up a table to her specifications and runs toward them, barking orders before I can defend my friend.
I want Christopher’s mother to like me, but it may be an impossible task.
Glad I have several dresses that are far fancier than the ones I’ve been wearing daily, I go upstairs to start getting ready for the party. I know it’s important to Christopher that I go, and although I’d much prefer not to … I do have something to prove to Louisa. I’m not the poor girl who haunted the schoolhouse anymore. I’m not the victim of a madman.
I’m not Amber Jennings.
I’m Ember. Ember Davenport.
A Davenport. Mrs. Christopher Davenport.
15
Ember
All day, I mentally prepared. I took a long bath. I read a new book. I focused on what I want out of the future—but more specifically, tonight. I thought of Christopher and how he clearly had faith in me before he left. And I spent some time thinking of Papa Rich. Not in a fond way, or a scared way, but in a way I believe is helping me heal. I realize I have to accept the fact that he truly is a bad man. What he did to me was bad. His acts were not out of love but rather from sickness.
I spent today trying to heal and become strong. And for the first time since arriving in this house, I started to feel like I was getting used to things.
Accepting.
I’m proud of myself and actually excited for the party. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I know I’ve managed to pull off the semi-formal that Louisa wants for her event. Thanks to Christina thinking ahead and making me get a rose-colored satin dress with a dipping neckline I first thought too sexy, I’m happy I listened to her. I’ve also managed to pull my hair up into a twist, showing off my neck and shoulders, which is also something I’m not used to. I think Christopher would love seeing me like this.
I’m different.
I’m no longer the scared woman locked in a cellar, jumping at the slightest sound.
Right now, this very second, I see a reflection of confidence. I can be the brave woman society demands. I can be the woman Christopher deserves by his side. I can be her. I can.
The sound of guests already arriving downstairs doesn’t scare me. It should… or at least it would… but not right now. Instead, I’m beautiful, and I know I can go down there and be charming. I can meet people as Mrs. Davenport. The younger and prettier Mrs. Davenport.
I laugh out loud at my thoughts and imagine what Louisa would think if she could hear them.