CHAPTER 3

April woke up in a small grey room, the light streamed through the thin curtains from a small window. Opening her eyes, she recognised her dresser on her left, then she looked down at her body. Her arms didn't have burns on them? Was that a dream?

She lay on the old moth-eaten sheets thinking about everything, it was too realistic to be a dream. She remembered the smell and the taste of the smoke as she choked on it. The harsh words of her stepsister rang and repeated in her ears.

'I'm back', she thought as a bright smile filled her face. She had been given another chance and she wouldn't be complacent with it. She had to be smarter than her enemy and build herself up. She had to protect herself, she was determined to teach those who harmed her and her mother a lesson. She looked around the small, damp room.

She was in her family home, she had long given her purple princess room to her stepsister Rachel. The art studio that housed her mother's artwork was now her father and stepmothers bedroom. She was now living in what was once the utility room on the ground floor. Brooms, a vacuum and a mop with a bucket still lay in the corner of the room.

She stretched her limbs out on the narrow bed, she was petite but she was too slim. Her father never took notice of her and her stepmother didn't allow her to eat with them so her father also never questioned why. She was only allowed the leftovers, which she never wanted to eat. Who would want to eat off other peoples plates?

In this new life that she had been blessed with, she had to be smart. First, she needed to act like nothing had changed, that she was still nieve. That way without arousing suspicion, she could keep all that they had yet to steal of her mothers and take back what she was owed.

She always woke before everyone else to prepare them all breakfast. So she got up and went to wash up first. She looked in the mirror at her reflection, her skin was pale and lifeless, her hair was limp and damaged. She couldn't believe she had lived like this for many years before her death. She had no creams, makeup or hair products that most girls her age had. It was time to change all this. If she didn't look after herself who would?

Her mother was a world-famous artist and everyone had always complimented her on her ladylike temperament as well as her charm. Her mother's designs and paintings sold for millions each. It was thankfully talent that her mother had passed on to her.

Which reminded her that her stepmother would hold an auction and sell her mothers final pieces in a month. She had to be ready to stop her.

She often did this in the name of charity, but she pocketed the money in the end. If it wasn't for charity her father would never sell her paintings and her stepmother knew this. Her stepmother was greedy she always wanted money, power and her father's heart. But that seemed to be the only thing he couldn't give her, which made her bitter and resent her mother. Since her mother had died her father worked day and night and that was all, he was indifferent to everything. April wondered if she could help him.

Slapping her cheeks, she steadied her heart and mind. She got changed into her black skinny jeans and a burgundy cashmere wool jumper. Yes, they were expensive but she was only allowed them because they were her stepsisters hand me downs. She was given them as to not rouse her father's suspicion. He didn't know designers or what was in season, he had thought she spent the money on the card he gave her but it had long been taken by her greedy step sister.

She grabbed her bag and crept upstairs, then she tiptoed to her mother's room. Everyone would sleep for another hour but she kept quiet just in case.

Fear gripped her heart, as she entered the room after all this was the room she died in. She trembled slightly as she put her bag onto her mother's bed. She looked around the room that both her mother and she died in. Her death was no accident and even more, now she questioned her mother's death.

Calming herself and taking a deep breath she then walked to the closet. Opening it she saw the clothing was still intact inside, the pieces were timeless. She felt the fabrics as she walked to a drawer, once opened it showed a safe. She input a code.

1..beep...4...beep...0... beep...4...beep...0... beep...2...beep

She put in the code which was her birth date. Inside the safe was her mother's jewellery, her design notebook, a few sketches and a key. She smiled as she touched the precious items her mother held dear. She emptied the safe and put everything in her bag. She then walked to the closet and packed a few items. Happy with what she could get for now she smiled.

She walked downstairs quietly and put the bag in her room, locking her room door behind her. To act as normal she went to the kitchen and made a sumptuous feast for her father, stepmother and stepsister.

She had enjoyed learning to cook from her mother. Her mother was so talented in so many aspects. If she wasn't so foolish in her last life she would maybe have been a great artist like her. She gave her best artwork to her stepsister stupidly to pass as her own. Determination filled her face.

Click Clack Click

'Showtime', she thought as she heard her stepmothers heels on the stairs. She changed her persona to a submissive one. She fixed her clothes and used her hair to hide her facial expressions.

"Good morning stepmother."

She bowed her head but looked up only to see her stepmother's disgust. She clenched her fists which she hid in the sleeves of her jumper.

"You can go to your room till we finish, as usual, when we are done then you can come and clear the dishes."

April gladly left the dining room and returned to her bedroom. She listened at the door and heard some voices, it was her father.

"April not, here again, I don't know what to do with her. Last few years I see her less and less."

"Leave her she is just a young girl who likes her space. She will come round in a few years. Unfortunately, she doesn't see me as a mother, as I do her like a daughter. It's my fault."

"Don't blame yourself, it's as you said a teenage girls phase. She will pull through, we just need to be patient with her."

"That reminds me, she has finished college now."

"Yes, what gift were you thinking. Maybe a car would do?"

"Well, she doesn't like jewellery or clothes so let's sell some of her mother's paintings and donate in her name to a charity. Wouldn't that be a unique gift?"

"I don't like the thought of that."

"Only a few pieces, you have so many."

"Okay as it's for April. I'll let you arrange everything."

"Thank you, dear."

April sat back on her bed after she had heard enough. Maybe her dad did care, he just listened to her stepmother too much. She couldn't say her dad didn't love her mum, that was evident but she did second guess, his love for her.

She looked at her bag containing her mother's things and she lifted it on to the bed. She unzipped it and took out the notebook. Turning the first page she sees her mothers handwriting. Her lip trembled slightly and her fingers shook as she turned the pages.

acrylic paints - Flexible, great with different mediums, water-soluble paint dries quickly.

oil paint - For masterpieces, slow drying time, messy to work with.

watercolours- For portraits and landscape, can also be used on surfaces like fabric, wood, leather, and vellum.

The list went on, her mother's book was very detailed with artist techniques, terminology and fashion design. Although April knew most of the techniques she was happy as it felt like her mother was aiding her in her future. She flicked to the next page, where there were a name and a number.

Marie Wisdom 09016****56

She remembered her mum had mentioned that name to her before. Marie was her best friend from nursery to college. April wanted to contact her. Maybe she knew what this key belonged to, she couldn't very well just ask her dad. She put away her mother's notebook, back into her bag.

She stood up and listened at the door it had been an hour now since breakfast. Her clock showed 8.15 am. Her father should be a way to work by now.

Hearing nothing she took her bag and threw it over her shoulder. She opened the door slightly not seeing anyone she walked to the kitchen, she could leave via the back door.

"Miss, is everything okay?"

She stopped upon hearing a voice, it was the butler, Mr Tom Evans. He was a nice older gentleman, when she was young and scraped her knee he picked her up and scolded the floor which made her laugh instead of crying. When her mother died he stayed by her side while she was at the wake, he dried her tears with his handkerchief and burnt the insense with her.

She saw Mrs Kitty the maid out of the corner of her eye, she could only hold her tongue and lie for now. Mrs Kitty reported everything back to her stepmother. She didn't want to lie but she couldn't slip up at this stage.

"Tom, I am just heading out for a bit to get art supplies."

She bit her lip, disguising her lie and she noticed his scepticism but he would never say anything. He also saw Mrs Kitty by the door intently listening.

"Please take care and be home before dark otherwise... I will only worry."

She smiled at this genuine man and wondered what had happened to him after she died. Was he the only one who grieved for her?

She then rushed out the back door and headed to the side gate.

She opened it and walked the two miles to the security gate. Two security men saw her but didn't say anything as she left the villa complex. She wondered if they thought she was a maid or something.

She could only afford a bus so she waited and hopped on the next one that had arrived. She looked out at the city through the window, in two years it would be even more developed. She alighted the bus and walked to the nearest newsstand.

She was not allowed a phone and had no excess money to buy one for herself so she had to use the phone at the newsstand.

She saw an older man with grey hair in casual clothing behind the desk.

"May I use the phone please."

"Fifty cents a minute."

The older man didn't raise his head he just answered gruffly and pointed towards the phone.

"Thank you."

April gave him two dollars and walked to the phone. She took out her mother's notebook and dialled Marie's number.

Ring Ring Ring

"Bonjour."

A polite woman's voice came through the phone speaking French. April wondered if she had got the digits wrong.

"Sorry I was looking for Marie, Marie Wisdom."

April heard a loud gasp.

"This is she... is this Kathleen's daughter? Oh, I just knew one day you would contact me. I am in France right now."

"I just wanted to know if you knew what a gold key belongs to."

"Mmm Hmm, your mother was very smart and always had a backup plan. Your new stepmother was a snake, I still question her heart attack... sorry sweetheart. You must forgive me, your mother used to urge me to get to the point. Anyway go to the First Trust National Bank and use the key for a dropbox the number should be on the key."

"Okay thanks, Marie."

"Let me know if you need anything or want a chat. I can also fly back as soon as you need me."

"Thanks but not yet."

"I understand, I understand. Take care."

Beep

April pieced it together at that moment. While she was being killed by Racheal she had mentioned her stepmother did the same to her mother. April's disgust filled her face and rage burned in her heart, igniting the desire for revenge.

She thanked the newspaper clerk and headed to the bank.