Page 82 of See Me After Class

A strangled cry ripped through the air. I whipped around to see Letitia sprawled on the floor, Leon looming over her, his face grim and determined. My gaze snapped back to Lila, but the fight went out of her as suddenly as it had ignited. She collapsed onto the floor, whimpering.

Then, darkness claimed me. The world spun, blurred, and dissolved into a velvety abyss.

I woke up what must have been a whole day later because morning light, dappled and warm, kissed my eyelids awake. I blinked, disoriented, the memories of the previous night flooding back in a torrent of confusion and pain. My hands throbbed, my ribs ached, and a dull throb pulsed behind my eyes.

But I was safe. I thought I was, at any rate.

I was swaddled in a soft, worn blanket, nestled in a bed that felt like a haven. The room was a symphony of muted browns and warm yellows, light streaming through lace curtainsand illuminating a bookshelf overflowing with leather-bound volumes. A crackling fire cast dancing shadows on the walls.

A soft knock at the door sent a flutter through my chest. I watched as it swung open, revealing John's familiar face, etched with concern that softened into a gentle smile as he saw me awake. He held a steaming mug, the aroma of sweet milk tea filling the room.

"Dessie," he said, his voice thick. "You gave us quite a scare last night."

He set the mug on the bedside table and pulled up a chair, his eyes holding a new warmth. I reached for the mug, relishing in the comforting heat seeping into my chilled hands.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice raspy. "Where are Lila and Letitia?"

John's jaw tightened. "They're in custody. Let's just say Viktor managed to call the police in the nick of time." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Dessie, there's something you need to know. It's about Ms. Wainwright."

I tensed, a cold dread settling in my stomach. "What about her?"

"She… she wasn't who we thought she was. Turns out, she was the one who diverted Oswald's legacy funds."

My breath hitched. I thought what I'd found out about her was enough, but apparently not. "But how?"

John leaned forward, his voice low. "It was a clever scheme. She used her position as Oswald's secretary to create fraudulent invoices, siphoning off funds into an offshore account. She even bought life insurance for Oswald, naming herself the beneficiary. The whole thing was rigged to look like a tragic accident, leaving her with a hefty payout."

Every part of my body felt sore. I didn't know what to do with all the lies that had surrounded me, all the misconceptions, and everything I had presumed.

Leon strode into the room, followed by Viktor. All of them wore expressions that married exhaustion, relief, and faint curiosity.

"So, Desdemona Cassandra Miller Gardner…" John smiled. "Will you tell us who you are now?"

I let out a strangled laugh. "I will," I whispered, "but you're going to hate me after I do."

"Somehow," Leon mused, "we really doubt that."

"Okay, then," I said softly. Over the next hour, I told them everything, even though my throat hurt. The adoption ring, my never knowing my birth parents, all of it. I also told them how obsessed I had been about finding Oswald's killer.

"I'm afraid I was about as obsessive as her," I said between halting breaths. "After all, we were both obsessed with getting the approval of the same man."

"There is a world of difference, Dessie," replied Viktor warmly. "You were his daughter. It's natural for you to want to seek his approval."

"But I'm not even his blood," I insisted, sadness overwhelming me.

"Caregiving isn't limited to blood relations, Dessie," said Leon.

In turn, they told me how Letitia had confessed to killing Oswald. She had visited him at his office and made him the offending drink. He, with the conviction that his trusted secretary could not hurt him, drank it without any thought.

In the end, his biggest fault was trusting the very woman he had saved. Ironic.

After all of us had shared everything, silence descended, thick and heavy. The warmth of the tea and the fire did little to soothe the chill that had settled in my bones. I felt adrift, the familiar world tilted on its axis.

"We're going to find your real parents, Dessie," John murmured, extending a hand to caress my forehead.

"But why?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "And why did you help me?"

John's gaze met mine, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat. "Because, Dessie," he said, his voice husky, "you deserve better. You deserve the truth, and you deserve someone who believes in you. We may not be the best company, but we want you to have that."

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