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Like a landmine that had been stepped on and was poised to explode at any second, the words lay there, awaiting the immediate aftermath of the hurt they had inflicted. Flesh and bones would start flying out of the explosive meat grinder at any moment. And Magdalene saw the exact second it happened. George’s face became pure agony.
“Maggie… I never wanted to hurt you.” George’s throat worked as she repeated the wretched phrase that was so far from the truth. She licked her lips, but Magdalene could see the attempt was futile as the foul smell of dehydration reached her senses. She wanted to gag, to turn away from George. Yet, she couldn’t. She owed herself that much. The full story. And Magdalene owed it to Sam as well. After all, she had figured it all out.
When she had staggered through the doorway a few minutes ago and pointed at Willoughby, who regarded the entire kerfuffle as if it was all beneath him, the threads had come together in Magdalene’s mind as well. Her cat only accepted two people, and one of them was already inside the attic. Which meant it had to have been the other locking the door.
Sam’s brilliant mind had saved the day yet again. And she was here now, probably having drafted both the disgraced Orla and the ever-supportive Joanne into marching down to Magdalene’s office to unmask George. Her Sam was literally standing between her and an attempted murderer, and she deserved to hear everything.
Magdalene’s nails bit into her palm as she spoke again. “Could’ve fooled me, George.”
The repetition seemed to do the trick. George’s lips twitched, and it was as if a little, tiny gear broke inside a complex mechanism. Because along with the foul breath, the truth started to pour out of George’s mouth.
“I’ve loved you for years, Maggie. Twenty years is too long a time to love someone and for that someone to never know. To never care.”
The wretched dam had broken, and despite her obvious earlier resolve, Sam suddenly looked like she wanted nothing more than to leave this room and not be exposed to the story that was about to unfold. Magdalene didn’t blame her. She told herself that she really couldn’t complain if Sam left the office, but her lover just re-planted her unsteady feet and listened on.
The backs of Magdalene’s eyes stung with unshed tears. Yet she remained motionless, not looking at either Sam or George, counting her own breaths, and willing George to get on with it. Followed by wishing for George to never speak ever again, because the hairs on the back of her neck stood up when her secretary opened her mouth once more.
“You walked through the door at Rodante twenty years ago, and nothing about me was ever the same, Maggie. You were everything I’d ever wanted. I ended the sorry excuse of a relationship I was wallowing in the very next day. I knew that, from that moment on, there would be nobody else for me. Nobody.”
George paced back and forth, before sitting down, eyes drinking Magdalene in with a sick sort of adulation that made her skin crawl. How had she never noticed this before? How had she never paid attention? After all, she prided herself on her ability to truly see and know people.
Well, Reverend Sanderson, may he rest in anything but peace, had been right about one thing:Pride cometh before the fall…
“You were so… unattainable. Like a goddess. Nobody and nothing could touch you, and I felt like a mere mortal to be in your presence, to drink in your light. All those people were just basking in your light and never knew what kind of blessing was being bestowed upon them. I was the only one who saw…”
A sob escaped George, and if it hadn’t seemed possible that Sam might look more uncomfortable, she did now. Yet Magdalene continued to sit completely motionless, but underneath the anger, something stirred in her, and she was horrified to recognize it for the most absurd emotion she could conjure at this moment. Pity. She balled her hands, knuckles white, trying to keep the sensation from taking over, but it was unmistakable and unstoppable. She feltpity.
God, why this? Why now?
And amidst Magdalene’s emotional pendulum swing, George continued.
“I was the only one who knew, and you never even looked at me. Never noticed me. I became your secretary when you were promoted to Faculty Chair and moved on with you when you became Deputy Headmistress. I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth. Do you even care? Do you?”
The outburst was so unexpected that Sam flinched, yet Magdalene stilled herself further and continued to stare ahead, nauseous and heartbroken. There was sure to be more to come, after all.
“You never realized, did you? You never knew that I loved you beyond words, beyond reason. You chose all the wrong people. All these men who could never in a million years appreciate you, appreciate your true worth, worship you like you are meant to be worshiped.”
George dropped her face into her palms for a second, but raised it back up quickly, as if she was afraid to miss even a moment of looking at her. Magdalene’s skin continued to crawl under those greedy eyes, and she suppressed a shudder of disgust. Her nausea was getting worse, she’d gag any minute.
“We were so close at Rodante, you and I. We spent our time together, we laughed, we had our lunches together, you shared your life with me… and then you fucked Timothy! I wanted to die, I wanted to kill. You were mine, and then you married that worthless man-whore.”
Pity, and now sadness. God, she couldn’t explain the emotions that kept overwhelming her. But the desire to finally break that silence in a meaningful way, to throw something back at George, was too strong.
“You were my friend, George.” She could see her words impacting Sam, still standing by the wall, an arm’s length away from the desk, and her eyes were wide and full of sympathy. But George gulped and went on, seemingly not hearing Magdalene.
“After a while, as you made Headmistress, I understood. You needed him to become who you should have been all along. So I forgave you.”
“You forgave me?” Her words remained quiet, but she squashed the note of melancholy from it. Her jaw tightened and she bit her lip hard, tasting copper and reveling in the blood. That anger, the fury that had given way to pity and sadness, reared its head again, squashing any other emotion. Her muscles coiled, an animal before a lethal jump, one she wasn’t at all certain she would be able to contain.
“You had to do what you needed to do. You had a long journey to get to the position you told me you dreamed to achieve, and any means were appropriate. I forgave you. I love you, of course I forgave you.”
George’s eyes were unseeing, glistening with unshed tears as they seemed to stare into the past, and Magdalene realized that her own emotions, her heartache, were lost on her former friend. She wasn’t seeing the danger looming as the Dragon inside Magdalene was unfurling its wings.
“But he didn’t love you! There wasn’t a skirt he wouldn’t chase. You were so consumed with reforming Rodante, with making a name for yourself, you never saw that he wasn’t close to being good enough for you. And so I set him up with that girl. His PA was so smitten with him, it didn’t take much to persuade her to climb into Timothy’s bed that night. I gave her a spare key. Said it was from Timothy. And you took my advice to come home early—”
“You set Timothy up?” Incredulous, her voice was but a whisper, and she knew she couldn’t raise it even if she tried. The unexpected confession stumped even her anger, the shock of it slapping her in the face. Magdalene had cried for days, heartbroken, and betrayed by the man whom she loved and yet…
“He deserved it. He’d have cheated on you regardless, sooner or later. So I made sure it happened sooner.”
