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127 - A Vindictive Woman
ARAH
The scene shifted to a cemetery. Arah watched as Marianne knelt before her mother’s tomb, fidgeting with a faceless doll in a worn dress. Marianne spoke about how she’d sometimes pretend her mama was in the doll—one that Anne had once owned. It was dirty now, nearly bald.
Tears welled in Marianne’s eyes as she spoke about her work. Arah could feel the burden of it all, the pressure Edmond was placing upon her. She knew exactly what that was like.
Marianne’s face clouded with sadness as she vented about how her papa would’ve been happier if she had been the one who died instead. “You should have lived, Mama,” she whispered, brushing dry leaves from the stone. “I should never have been born.”
The words triggered something in Arah, a familiar ache tightening in her chest. Though she couldn’t remember the exact details, she knew she had once said and felt something similar—that she should’ve been the one who died. That Siegfrid and Irmee
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