The east wing incident had gone through a quiet night. Ethan spent hours in search of Christiana, calling her name down the halls, but she had closed herself up in her little room, and would not hear.
As daylight came Christiana came out with red eyes and a small suit-case in her arm. She slowly moved through the commodious aisles of the mansion, her footsteps like a parting.
Ethan happened to see her, and ran down the staircase. "Christiana! Where are you going?"
She didn't look at him. "Away. I can't stay here anymore."
He stood in her way, and his voice was choking with emotion. "Please, listen to me. What you had seen, it was not what it was. Sophia tricked me. I would never betray you."
Lips shuddered, eyes were hard, as Christiana shook her head. "Ethan, I've tried to be strong. I have taken the gossiping, the jealousy, the traps that she made. But each time I round to there is Sophia between us. Maybe... maybe this is a sign. Perhaps we were never supposed to be.
No, no, said Ethan and he grabbed her suitcase shaking in his hands. "Don't say that. You were the only person that has kept me alive in this house. The only light I've ever had."
She cried tears down her cheeks. And yet why am I losing you day by day?
Ethan had not time to respond, when Sophia appeared at the head of the stairway and her robe fluttered like a queen over her triumph. She smirked faintly. "Let her go, Ethan. Suppose she is unable to bear the truth, perhaps she was not so strong as you thought she would be.
"Shut up, Sophia!" Ethan snapped, his voice raw. But the damage was done. Christiana clenched her suit case.
I cannot fight this war any more, Christiana said to herself. "I love you, Ethan. Nevertheless, I must love myself to leave.
And with that she passed in front of him and her figure faded as she went through the great doors of the mansion.
Ethan sank on his knees and his chest throbbed. The home appeared like a dream and now a prison and Sophia was in the dimness of his hopelessness.
It was the first question Ethan ever asked himself, whether love could be the one thing to save him, or whether he had lost the one person who was ever willing to see him.