Chapter 35 In Depth

• Bianca put the book down and took a deep breath. Again, reading what she believed was her great-aunt's note, wasn’t her great aunt after all, then she wept, knowing that everything she had never known was lies. Her tears were mixed with anger that her great-aunt didn't tell her sooner and happiness that her grandmother hadn't died before giving birth to her. She clung to the few pieces of hope that had been left behind by the woman who, indeed, had given her life. She couldn't help but feel like she was being pulled into something she didn't want to be part of. Her life had just been turned upside down, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it all. Bianca looked at the pages again, trying to process everything she read. She had always known something wasn't quite right about her family. She just never imagined it would be like this. The idea that her great-aunt had lied to her about who she really was made her feel betrayed and angry. But there was also an undeniable pull toward the truth and the knowledge that she was somehow special. She closed the leather cover and placed it back inside the box, setting it aside for now. Right now, she needed time to herself to sort through her emotions. The revelations about her family and heritage were overwhelming, and she wasn't sure where to go from here. All she knew was that nothing would ever be the same again. Bianca kept looking over and over at the pictures, understanding now that the women in each picture were the same, not descendants, but how could that be? Was her family immortal somehow? She remembered Gerrit calling himself cursed; was that it? Was her family cursed? That would explain why she didn't age as fast as others her own age. Granted, she was in her twenties, and perhaps she was much older than what she had been told.
• ❧NEXTPAGE❧
• Her head hurt, and it wasn't because of the wine. However, drinking sounded like a way to help her forget everything she had learned. There were other pictures of males. One of them had been a young boy, probably around the age of thirteen, standing with a little girl in one hand and an infant in the other. She hadn't a clue who he was; however, some scribbles in the same foreign language had been written. She wondered if Gerrit could translate any of this. Her alarm in the kitchen started going off. She knew it was nearly time for Gerrit to get off work. They had plans to go out tonight, play pool, and have a round of drinks. That was her remedy for the night. She quickly showered after cleaning the area up. Bianca had locked everything in the closet until tomorrow. She figured this town had to have an archive. Maybe she should start there. She had brushed her wavy hair of honey and umber strands, and walnut blended in. She loved her hair; it was different, as were her amber-colored eyes. She put her up on a loose twist, freeing a few strands of hair. She put on her white button-up shirt, then got into her black jeans and matching boots. She was applying her make-up when Gerrit came inside. He wore a black shirt instead of his uniform underneath a deep, dark red flannel long-sleeve shirt. His blue jeans fit him nicely; no wonder he was a heartthrob, she heard through the grapevine. Bianca went into the kitchen, where Gerrit was grabbing his special drink.