Matters of Chance

Chapter 22

Whenever Elizabeth was stressed, sleeping was difficult. She had woken up several times that night, and after opening her eyes for the fourth time, left them that way. She stared at the ceiling without any concept of time passing, the darkness of the room sticking to the walls around her.

A small light illuminated in her periphery. Elizabeth turned to see her phone buzzing on the wooden side table. She grabbed it and squinted at the screen, her eyes burning in the white light. It was Jane. Elizabeth pressed the answer button and put the phone up to her ear.

"Jane, it's 3AM here-"

Jane interrupted her. "Lydia ran away."

"What?" Elizabeth sat up in bed.

"She ran away with George Wickham," Jane said, "Kitty said that they had been talking for a while. We have no idea where they are."

Elizabeth's heart nearly stopped beating, "When did this happen?"

"A couple of hours ago, I just got a call from Mary," Jane said, "I'm coming home. I only had a couple days of work left anyway."

"This is all my fault." Elizabeth said, "He's a predator, I should have protected her."

"You didn't know, Lizzie."

Elizabeth shook her head, though she knew Jane couldn't see her. "I'm coming home now."

The conversation didn't last much longer than that. Elizabeth shot out of bed and scheduled a flight to Seattle on her phone. The earliest one she could find was at 6AM, in 3 hours. It would have to do. She stuffed all of her belongings into her suitcase. She wanted to cry. Lydia was her baby sister. She couldn't imagine what Wickham would do to her. She had to get home and keep moving. The back of her eyes started to water but she pushed it back. She didn't have time to cry right now.

Her priority was leaving San Francisco and getting back to Meryton as fast as possible. She'd text Darcy once she was at the airport and apologize for leaving without notice. But for now, she'd sneak out of his house.

She lifted her suitcase to her chest. She wasn't going to risk rolling it against the hardwood floors and waking anybody up. Her steps were quiet thuds against the floor. She had almost made it down the stairs when she heard a deep voice call from above.

"Elizabeth?"

She held her breath and stayed quiet, hoping that maybe Darcy was sleep talking. Those hopes were crushed when Darcy walked down the stairs and squinted at her in the darkness of the house. He seemed groggy, from just waking up, though he snapped to attention when he noticed Elizabeth's suitcase.

Hurt washed over his face. "You're leaving?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm going home." Elizabeth must not have been able to hide the panic in her eyes because Darcy's face switched to concern in an instant.

"What's wrong?"

Elizabeth had done well keeping it together, she had thought, but that question seemed to open the floodgates. Elizabeth clung her suitcase to her chest as hot tears began spilling from her eyes. She couldn't look at Darcy as she spoke. "Lydia ran off with George Wickham."

Darcy looked at her, though Elizabeth couldn't read his expression through her tears.

"It's my fault," her voice cracked as she struggled to breathe through her crying. "I should have warned everyone about him. I should have kept an eye on my sisters."

Darcy didn't comment on the situation at all, instead, he offered her a ride to the airport. There was no reason for him to get involved with a man that abused his sister and bring up trauma, so Elizabeth rejected his offer and got herself a Lyft to the airport.

The Lyft driver was kind. She was an older woman who wore a baseball cap, despite the fact that it was still pitch black outside. The woman simply said hello, and upon seeing Lizzie's red rimmed eyes and hearing her sniffling, handed her a box of tissues. The drive was quiet, and Lizzie appreciated it. Her thoughts swirled around in her head as the streetlamps whizzed by.

She had no idea where George Wickham would bring Lydia. She assumed Oakland, where he lived, but she had no chance of finding him there. She couldn't knock on every door in the city and hope one of them had her sister. She'd have to go home and tell her family everything that she knew about George. From there, they'd get law enforcement involved.

This whole situation was the end of whatever she had with Darcy. Something had been happening in that house. They were becoming friends, starting over a relationship that had gotten off on the wrong foot. It felt good making pizzas in his house and watching movies. She'd have to bury it, though. Going back to Meryton would lead to her telling her parents everything that Darcy had written to her as a secret, breaking his trust and digging up his past. She had seen his emotionless reaction when she had broken down in his house just minutes earlier. He didn't want to be involved, and she understood.

The airport was quiet and dark. Ordinarily, Lizzie would find it peaceful, but today, she was more focused on getting home as quickly as possible. Her time in the Lyft was all the time she would allow herself to mourn a friendship she almost had. From now on, she'd focus on getting home and finding her sister.

Elizabeth usually found strength in her emotions, though the cold seat in the airport terminal reminded her that this wasn't the time for her feelings. It was time to confess to all she knew and help anyone she could. Her sadness wouldn't find Lydia. Her anger wouldn't arrest George Wickham. These were the thoughts that rotated in her mind as she boarded the airplane and flew to Seattle. She spent her flight staring out of the tiny airplane window, too tired to distract herself, and too anxious to fall asleep.