Rebecca sat, completely spent, with her head between her legs, hands resting on the back of her neck. She was deeply breathing, makeup smeared as tears clumsily fell from her eyes, unnoticed after doing so for so long. The door to the room which had been sealed for so many hours clicked unlocked, almost as if it was easy for it to do so, like the women trapped inside could have left it at any moment. Rebecca grunted, as she pushed herself up, scrambling to the door over the broken glass of the smashed mirrors which littered the floor. She opened it with the whole strength of her body, and tore off down the hallway, towards the stairs. She kicked off her shoes as she ran, her mind completely blank expect for plans to get home to the girls as fast as humanly possible.
The mansion was utter chaos. Screaming and shouting filled every inch of air around Becca’s ears. She could hear names, briefly, and she thought of her husband. Was he alive? She closed her eyes, stopping in her tracks for just one second. He was alive. She would know if he wasn’t. She trusted that she would have been able to feel it somehow. And she knew he wouldn’t blame her for leaving the mansion without him at her side. She was a mother before she was a wife, and even though she knew and trusted in this sentiment, she felt her heart rip as she pushed with all her might to get to the foyer, away from the crowds, where her husband might have been.
She ran more than 5 miles a day, so she knew she could easily make it home. She was surprised, once outside, that it wasn’t pouring rain. The air was thick with humidity, but also cold, and morning light was just peaking through the passing storm clouds. Rebecca didn’t look back after she took off running for the house. She made it through the first mile easily, adrenaline pushing her forward. Then, thoughts started to creep into her mind, taking over the numbness.
Suddenly, she was able to feel the cuts on her knees and arms from the glass. Her feet felt raw and a cramp blossomed in her groin. She groaned, pushing herself forward. The physical pain was so much easier to ignore than the thoughts of Willa which infiltrated her every brain-cell. Rebecca and Tess had traded vile words to each other for half an hour before the pressure of the situation pushed Tess to spit the information at Rebecca: Willa was back in town.
Rebecca knew her life would be forever changed due to the woman’s return. Rebecca’s first instinct was to hate her. She imagined bashing her head in half, blood covering the floor beneath them. She could picture kicking and punching the woman repeatedly, even after her body had gone limp. It was far more than jealousy which drew these uncharacteristic feelings of animalistic rage from Rebecca, the woman had nearly killed the only man she had ever loved. For that crime, she deserved to look death in the eyes herself. Rebecca had never seen her, dead or alive. Never seen a genuine smile grace her features, or watched her cheeks and lips move as she spoke. She swallowed, pushing herself to run faster, to get to her girls. The impossibility of the situation was hard for her to comprehend, but the reality of the same situation was plain as day. Willa was the woman who her husband had loved before her. She was the woman whom he had nearly died while mourning. This was the woman who brought her Reid to the brink of death. And, this woman, would make her life never again livable in the same manner she had grown accustomed to. Everything, from now on, would be different. Everything, from now on, would be more difficult.
She pushed on, through the gates of Kingsworthy Estates, only a little bit longer to home. She swallowed any sadness she felt. Her anger had boiled down to a depressing helplessness to the situation. When she was younger she had always thought adults knew what to do in times of crisis. In this moment, Rebecca wished there was someone who could tell her what to do. She didn’t know how to confront her husband, how to ever look Tess in the eyes again, or how to leave her home knowing that this woman was roaming Portchester, and could be run into at the grocery store, at school, or in the park. The thought was nauseating. Rebecca couldn’t help it, she slowed at end of her driveway, and leaned forward into a knocked over garbage bin, emptying her stomach.
She stayed bent over, catching her breath for a moment, before she remembered her girls were just a few feet away. She sprinted up the lawn, seeing the front door ajar. The inside of the house was a mess. Nothing seemed seriously broken, but there was a lot of displacement from the wind. She cleared her throat once, “Madison?” She called out, taking a few more steps into the house, “Sarah?” She paused, “Momma’s home.”
