Page 23 of Bittersweet Legacy

She laughed, shaking her head “Yeah, that’s bound to go down really well.”

“Ah, I will not be here long enough for it to change anything. It’ll look good in my university application, since I want to become a social worker.”

She stopped in her tracks and detailed me, some sadness in her eyes. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to get the life you plan, Esme,” she offered gently. “Getting out of the Patricians is just as difficult as getting in.”

I shrugged, not wanting to let my spirit go down. “We’ll see.”

She gave me a big kiss on the cheek before smiling brightly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I truly hope you’re right,” she humoured me, and I decided not to dwell on the subject anymore and risk having my logic thrown in my face.

When I went to the library for the last period, I set a reminder on my watch to leave 10 minutes early – I’ll be waiting by the Maserati when Archie got out, this will avoid a lot of bitching.

“Hey, Ms White,” I whispered as I walked into the library.

The middle-aged librarian looked up and her generic smile widened to an earnest one. “Ah my favourite student,” she chuckled, pushing her thick glasses up her nose.

I smiled back at her, we both knew that her choice was quite limited as most students considered themselves much too important to talk with the faculty, and this included the loveliest librarian on the planet.

“Are you here for your Independent Studies?”

I nodded.

“That was a bold choice,” she nodded approvingly. “But I can see you doing something amazing.”

I smiled, almost wanting to cross the line of polite society and pull her into a hug. Everybody had been basically horrible to me since I moved here, or at best ignored me completely. If it hadn’t been for Tay’s support or poor Sophia’s attempts at kindness, I would have sunk so deep into depression I would have drowned. They were attempting to break my spirit and some days I feared they’d succeed, but then I had people like Ms White who brought back a little light in my life, a candle in a dark tunnel, providing just enough illumination to keep me going slowly and painfully, one step at a time.

“I’m thinking about writing a Sociology paper.”

“Interesting,” she tapped a finger on her chin. “I think you should start by having a look in aisles 12 and 13.” She pointed to the far end of the library. “Let me know if you don’t find anything suitable,” she said, waving her paperback at me. “I’ll be here reading.”

I nodded. “Thanks for your help, Ms White.”

She looked around the room, as usual it was dead quiet. “Please call me Anna when we’re alone.”

“Thank you… Anna.”

She smiled again before going back to her seat and resuming her reading.

I set my things on the table closer to the entrance and looked at my watch, making sure the alarm was on. I had 30 minutes before going to meet Archie.

As expected, aisle 12 turned out to be useful and I found a couple of books to help me start my research.

I was taking the book back to my desk when I frowned looking at the brown manila envelope on the table. My name was written in red marker, in capital letters ‘ESME’.

I looked around but the library was empty except for Ms White who was engrossed in her novel.

I sat down warily, opened the envelope carefully, expecting nothing but a prank. I tilted it on the table and a brown leather clad cahier notebook slid onto the desk. It was the size of one of my textbooks, quite thick as well, thicker than my thumb.

I looked around once more before opening it.

I ran my hand over the first page, the handwriting was beautiful, very well-defined cursive letters, elegant and feminine. Words written with care, with a fountain pen.

If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m not around to explain everything to you and despite my efforts to save you from this life I failed.

I stopped reading, my heart accelerating in my chest at who I was assuming wrote these words. I took a deep, shaky breath before looking down the page again.

I’m not sure what you can call this – a diary? A confession? An apology? It’s probably a bit of everything so let’s say it’s a Journal, shall we?

I’ve learned many things living this life, and the key is that knowledge is power, Esmeralda, and I’m going to tell you all I know, all there is to know in the hope that these truths will help you succeed where I clearly failed. If you are reading these words, it also means I'm not here to shield you from everything you are about to face, everything you will learn and for that I’m even sorrier than I can put into words. I hope this journal will at least help guide you toward freedom.

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