𝗜𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀 | 𝐁𝗼𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲/𝗥𝗙𝗞

XXXIX: "Détente"

[The Bellamy mansion, France, 1935]

"Poison ivy? You have to stop making up these stories, Evie. I'm sure it's only a heat rash," Julia says as she generously lathers aloe vera onto her daughter's skin.

"I'm not lying, Maman! I swear she really did it," claims the five-year-old girl. Her skin has erupted, scarlet in color, after lying on the grass.

"How could she do this without inflicting the same on herself? Hm?" The mother refuses to believe her most beloved child would even conjure the idea.

"I don't know! But she laughed at me when I cried." Evelyn winces under her breath as the pain's too overwhelming for a delicate flower like her.

"Alright, let's ask her, shall we?" Julia rises from the Victorian chaise lounge that was gifted by her husband's acquaintance.

Evelyn scoffs, "She will only lie."

"Your sister never lies!" Julia raises her voice as though it's crucial for her to defend Delphine. Upon seeing her daughter's befuddlement, she herself finds the reaction peculiar. "You shouldn't say that about your sister..." she retracts her claws.

In utter confusion, Evelyn follows her mother into the garden, where Delphine is plucking a pink-petalled daisy from the grass she's ensconced on.

"Ma bichette, did you do this?" Julia questions her eldest daughter. Her hand carelessly gripping Evelyn's inflamed arm, disregarding the faint whimpering from the child.

Delphine merely shakes her head, unbothered. "No, Maman," she says, returning her eyes to the flower.

Julia raises a brow at Evelyn, asking what other objection she has.

"You're lying! You're covering it with the blanket!" The younger girl lifts the said picnic blanket, revealing scattered leaves of green poison ivy.

"Do you have any damning evidence of that?" Delphine utters the word her father used on the phone some other day.

Evelyn parts her mouth, ready to retaliate, when her mother strikes her across the face — and it's not the namby-pamby kind.

"I ought to wash your mouth with soap," Julia grimly says under her breath.

When Evelyn looks up to lay her eyes on the woman, she already knew the face would be prejudicious. "Maman, what would I gain from lying?" Tears accumulate in her eyes, the rash becomes fiery by the second, and her throat closes up.

Then her savior enters the garden from the front yard, a briefcase in his hand. "Thought I heard your voice. What's going on?" He interrogates Julia from afar, puzzled by the ongoing scene.

"Your daughter is lying again," the woman truculently claims, glaring at the weeping child.

Maurice furrows his eyebrows and shifts his attention towards Evelyn who has her hands pressed against her wet eyes. "What happened, Evie?" He lays a knee on the grass to be at the same level as her.

"I didn't lie, Papa." The girl's voice muffled as she refuses to take her hands off her face.

Maurice looks at his wife with resentment; which irks and prompts her to go inside with the other child. He picks Evelyn up with ease to bring her to a nearby seat. "D'accord, tell me what happened," he says.