Chapter 231: If You Want Something Done, Do It Yourself
Ophelia’s hand, reaching for the edge of her dress’s neckline, froze mid-air. The music, the chatter, the clinking of glasses – all sounds faded into a muted hum as her gaze was drawn to the large projector screen that dominated one end of the ballroom. A flicker of movement, a grainy image, had caught her attention, and a cold dread began to seep into her veins.
The image sharpened, resolving into a face Ophelia had thought she would never see again. Maeve. Her sister. Her long-lost sister. The woman she had believed to be dead for nearly three decades.
Ophelia’s breath hitched, a gasp escaping her lips. She felt a wave of dizziness, a sense of unreality washing over her. She could not believe what she was seeing even as she resisted the urge to rub her eyes. It couldn’t be real.
But it was.
Maeve’s face, beautiful and unlined with the effects of age was unmistakable. Her eyes, the same piercing blue as Ophelia’s, held a mixture of fear and determination. Her voice, though slightly distorted by the age of the recording, was clear and strong.
Ophelia’s legs felt weak, her body trembling. She sank back into a nearby chair, her eyes glued to the screen, her mind reeling. She could not tear her gaze away from her sister’s face, from the image that had shattered her carefully constructed reality.
The video, clearly old, appeared to be a personal recording, a message left behind. Maeve spoke directly to the camera, her words laced with urgency and a desperate plea.
"If you are watching this," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "then something has gone terribly wrong. It means that after I had to run away from home to save my life, i have not been very successful."
"It must be a surprise to some of you who I have invited to this party," Maeve continued. "Yes, I did not die. I am here to tell you that your plans did not succeed."