The Lores of Lyra - Rising Star

Miriam tried to steady her rapidly beating heart. She hadn’t even started yet, but she still felt like she had run a marathon. Jumping on the spot and shaking all her limbs carefully, she took three deep breaths before she—with soft steps—snuck out of her room.

With her hands braced against the wall, she tried to sneak through the hallway. When she came to the corner, she peeked around to make sure no one was in sight.

“May I ask what you are doing, Miss?” Gustavo’s voice came from behind her. Miriam jumped up in surprise and with a hand on top of her beating heart, she turned around to face the butler.

“Gustavo! You scared me,” she scolded.

“I am very sorry, Miss,” Gustavo apologized with a little bow. When he straightened, he looked at her.

“I was just playing,” she explained before walking away from him.

Don’t look so amused, Gustavo… It was a legit sneaking. Miriam wanted to pout at him—it wasn’t funny.

She hadn’t actually been playing. After the talk with Blake, she had decided to try searching her mother’s private office in the library. Now she scolded herself for thinking that it had been a good idea, for she probably looked like a sinful spy. Straightening her back, Miriam shook her head and resumed her walk to the library.

Stepping inside the library, she was pleased to find it empty. Her gaze drifted over to the far right corner, where a sizeable red curtain with the family Hertz crest embroidered in the middle hung slightly open, so that a little bit of sunshine shone through. The two Star lions and five snakes encircling the massive star, in various gorgeous colors, always managed to make her feel happy. The faint smell of books in the library calmed her down enough to enjoy the peaceful silence, but only for a minute.

Behind the curtain, slightly off to the side of the window, was a door, which led to her mother’s office that seemed to call out to her. She had been in there a few times before, though only with the company of her mother.

Reaching out Miriam tried to turn the door handle, thankfully to find it unlocked. She wasn’t surprised—Veronica wasn’t one to lock things up.

The office itself was dark, each color solid and murky. Unlike the rest of the house, this area had dark brown drapes that covered the windows; giving off an eerie yet comfortable atmosphere. Placed in the centre of the room was a large, mahogany desk that was filled with high stacks of paper. Beside it, a century old computer sat, collecting dust from never being used. Her mother rarely used it and Miriam never thought to use it herself.

The shelves beyond the desk were organized neatly, and the books stacked upon them were mostly work related. Miriam knew that her mother hid many of her ideas in the closed drawers. She looked around and wondered where her mother could have placed the missing pages. Taking a closer look at the paper stacks on the desk, she realized that Veronica wouldn’t have them lying on the counter if she truly didn’t want her to see them. Her mother had never before shielded anything away from her, so why would she even think that she would now?

Because the feeling inside me is telling me something is very wrong.

Miriam sat down in her mother’s comfortable, oversized chair and opened the bottom drawer to peek inside. Inside sat a bottle of whisky, along with office essentials—post-it notes, scissors, and several pens.

Moving along to the next drawer she found more papers, though once again they weren’t what she had been looking for. Mostly they contained her mother’s work ideas and letters. At the bottom, she found some drawings that she had made when she was younger. A pang of guilt rushed through her, and she hastily closed the drawer again.

What am I doing? I am a terrible child.

Normally she wasn’t like this. However, the fact that Veronica might hide secrets from her annoyed her. They had always been close, but lately they’d barely spoken, and could never seem to catch each other alone anymore.

It wasn’t because she was ungrateful, or that she didn’t want her mother to be happy with Dr. Johansson; she just missed what she once had with her mother. A deep ache throbbed somewhere deep inside, as she gulped back her mixed emotions and tried to contain anything that might make her cry.

Tugging on the top drawer, she soon realized it was locked and no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t open it. She tried to pick the lock but to no avail—it was a solid piece of furniture.

Leaning back, she let out a shaky breath. The key must be somewhere in the house. She knew that her mom didn’t carry keys around. Veronica had often lectured about what was tactic and ethical and apparently, she disliked pockets—a purse was more suitable for women. And you are a budding young woman, Miriam. Act the part, Miriam thought with an eye roll.

Perhaps the key is hidden in Ma’s bedroom… Clapping her hands together, she decided to try and check.

She had felt fantastic all day after all the relaxing the day before. Dr. Johansson had been pleased, but surprised at the rapid rate that she was healing. The bruises were on their last stages, and her throat was back to normal. Miriam was so happy that she eagerly devoured the oatmeal they served her for breakfast—even though she hated the dish.

Upon leaving the library she spotted Beatrice dusting the corners for nonexistent cobwebs in the hall.

“Hey Trish, do you know where my mother is?” Miriam asked politely; trying not to let her nervousness show.

“Yes Miss, she is out with Dr. Johansson at the moment. Would you like me to give her a message when she arrives home?” Beatrice answered and curtseyed. At this Miriam rolled her eyes. She liked having Blake around, despite the fact that she missed her previous relationship with her mother. However the fact that the entire staff was so stiff has started to annoy her.

The door to the bedroom was closed. Feeling like a criminal, she quickly glanced around to make sure that no one was in sight. Her hands shook slightly as she laid her hand on the door and with a sigh pressed it down.

To be honest she didn’t know why she reacted like that, as she often went into her mother’s bedroom to borrow jewelry or to look through the clothes her mother had stored away from her younger days. It was perhaps the fact that she, for once, didn’t go in there with pure intent that made her hands sweaty.

The late afternoon sun shone through the large window that was facing west, making everything she was about to do seem even worse. Taking a deep breath, she began looking for papers in the makeup-table drawers. Her mother never used much makeup, so it had always puzzled Miriam that she kept so many different brands .

Discovering nothing out of the ordinary, she continued to look around. Her mother always kept a tidy bedroom. Miriam knew for a fact that she did the tidying up herself, with no help from the staff. If the staff dared to come in a tidy, which was rare, it always offended her.

Sitting on the bed, she tried imagining where her mom would hide anything. She began to doubt any idea that her mother was hiding something from her. Taking a last glance around the room, she looked at her mother’s bed table. It was small, but placed there was a small drawer. She had never noticed that before. Taking a double glance, she noticed it was still there and not simply her mind playing tricks on her.

Cautiously, as if someone might run in at any moment and catch her, Miriam stood up and walked to the table. Standing above it, she furrowed her brows and contemplated on whether it was appropriate to go through it. Sure, there could be nothing in it, yet there could have actually been something inside. Finally making up her mind, Miriam opened the drawer, and once again she found letters— though these were accompanied with a death certificate of a Miriam Hertz.

She shivered as she studied the death certificate. It was dated two days before her own birthday.

That’s odd…

It had her name written there, but it couldn’t be herself for she was standing there, clearly alive.

A sound came from outside the room. Quickly she shut the drawer, stuffing the letters and certification down her dress. Lying back, she closed her eyes and waited until her mother’s voice reached her ears.

“Hi dear, what are you doing?”

Miriam opened her eyes and looked at her mother, if she even was that, and tried to steady her now frantically beating heart.

“I just came in to look at your jewelry, and then got dizzy and decided to lie down,” she lied. Veronica Hertz rushed to her side, wasting no time to put a warm hand on her daughter’s cold forehead.

“Are you okay, dear? Should I call Steven to look at you?” she asked rubbing Miriam’s temple. Miriam couldn’t help but shudder a little at the gesture. Quickly gathering her thoughts, she rose from the bed; causing her mother’s hand to drop down on the pillow that she had her head on.

“No need for that, Ma’. I’m just going to lie down for a bit in my own room,” she said and attempted a weak smile. Her messed up feelings probably helped to make her look ill because without another word Veronica led her to her room.

“You sure that you don’t need anything?” she asked again, helping Miriam into bed. Looking up, Miriam changed her expression from grim to somewhat happy. After a slight shake of the head, Veronica finally took the hint and left the room; closing the door gently behind her.

Thoughts swirled around in Miriam’s head, and she felt the corners of the letter underneath her dress press into her stomach. Before she took it out, she dried her sweaty hands on the bed and leaned back with the letter in front of her.

With shaky hands, she opened it up and took a folded paper out. The time had left its mark, showing signs of being read repeatedly. Miriam’s eyes skimmed the text, and after a while, she focused enough to read.

’12th October 2011

Veronica.

I hereby leave the girl in your care.

Keep her safe at all costs and don’t ever let her know of her true heritage.

I trust you with this child, raise her as if she was your own.

My friend will provide the information needed and help you with the adoption papers.

Best of luck,

Jason Mallock’

Miriam hadn’t noticed the tear that had escaped before she felt it trickle down her cheek. Her whole life had been a lie. She looked at the death certificate once more.

I have the name of a dead child.

Tears streamed down in lines now. She heaved and found it difficult to keep still. The emotions inside her were a combination of betrayal and hurt.

Hugging herself tight, she tried to stop the feeling of pain that was inside her. But the memory of her recent discovery swirled around, making that task impossible. The words in the note and death certificate repeated itself inside her head, every word sending a new wave of despair and suffering through her.

She heard a faint knock but didn’t bother answering. It wasn’t until Blake stood over her with worried eyes that some of the clouds disrupted from her vision. His blue eyes were the only thing that came through to her.

“What happened?” he asked, concern filling his voice. Miriam didn’t trust her own voice. Instead, she just shook her head, trying to get him to leave. She didn’t want him to see her like this; all shattered into pieces on the inside and ready to burst on the outside.

Ignoring her silent plea, he sat down beside her and moved her head to his lap, gently stroking her hair while she cried. At some point, a small part of Miriam wondered how she could even have so many tears inside her. Sniffing once she realized that her head made Blake’s jeans all sloppy and wet. Feeling ashamed, she tried to sit up and scoot over.

“Hey, hey, talk to me. Please?” he pleaded and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked down.

“What happened?” he repeated when she met his eyes. Instead of answering, she reached down for the folded letter and handed it to him. He sent her a puzzled look but opened it. Miriam thought she was imagining it, but when he began reading, his dark blue eyes became almost black for a fragment of a second. When he looked up at her again, his eyes were filled with nothing but sympathy.

“I’m sorry,” he said and reached out to her. Being tired of fighting, she gave in and leaned into him; enjoying the sensation of being held. She closed her eyes and breathed in.

“My whole life has been a lie,” she admitted aloud, her eyes opening in wonder at her own words.

“Don’t say that,” Blake whispered, starting to rock her back and forth.

“But it’s true, isn’t it? I’m not her daughter, her real daughter died, and I was given the life that she couldn’t give her own daughter,” Miriam argued. She was still shaking and anxious, but could feel herself relax gradually in Blake’s arms.

“She loves you like her own daughter,” Blake answered. She closed her eyes at this, trying to shut of the feelings tearing her up from the inside.

“I don’t know how to face her again after this.”

“Well, at some point you need to. She’s still your mother, no matter what some stupid papers say.”

Silence fell between them after that. Miriam wished she could erase the whole day.

The first time I act up,and this is what I find? All her thoughts were away from the mysterious missing pages.

She tried to match Blake’s steady breathing and after some time felt herself feel more relaxed.

“You better now?” Blake asked. She nodded slightly. “Do you want me to go?”

Miriam thought about it. To be truthful she was pretty sure that the only reason she wasn’t crying and hugging herself was because Blake was around. She honestly didn’t want him to go, though she didn’t want to bother him.

“Can you please just stay till I fall asleep?” she asked in a small voice, not daring to look at him.

“Of course!” he said and leaned back with her, comforting her by holding her.

Miriam struggled to fall asleep, but with the stroking hand from Blake, she slowly felt her eyelids get heavier. The last conscious thought she had before she fell asleep was: I wish we could stay like this forever.