"Good morning stepmother."

She bowed her head but looked up only to see her stepmother's disgust. She clenched her fists which she hid in the sleeves of her jumper.

"You can go to your room till we finish, as usual, when we are done then you can come and clear the dishes."

April gladly left the dining room and returned to her bedroom. She listened at the door and heard some voices, it was her father.

"April not, here again, I don't know what to do with her. Last few years I see her less and less."

"Leave her she is just a young girl who likes her space. She will come round in a few years. Unfortunately, she doesn't see me as a mother, as I do her like a daughter. It's my fault."

"Don't blame yourself, it's as you said a teenage girls phase. She will pull through, we just need to be patient with her."

"Which reminds me she has finished college now."

"Yes, what gift were you thinking. Maybe a car would do?"

"Well, she doesn't like jewellery or clothes so let's sell some of her mother's paintings and donate in her name to a charity. Wouldn't that be a unique gift?"

"I don't like the thought of that."

"Only a few pieces, you have so many."

"Okay as it's for April. I'll let you arrange everything."

"Thank you, dear."

April sat back on her bed after she had heard enough. Maybe her dad did care, he just listened to her stepmother too much. She couldn't say her dad didn't love her mum, that was evident but she did second guess his love for her.

She looked at her bag containing her mother's things and she lifted it on to the bed. She unzipped it and took out the notebook. Turning the first page she sees her mothers handwriting. Her lip trembled slightly and her fingers shook as she turned the pages.

acrylic paints - Flexible, great with different mediums, water-soluble paint dries quickly.

oil paint - For masterpieces, slow drying time, messy to work with.

watercolours- For portraits and landscape, can also be used on surfaces like fabric, wood, leather, and vellum.

The list went on, her mother's book was very detailed with artist techniques, terminology and fashion design. Although April knew most of the techniques she was happy as it felt like her mother was aiding her in her future. She flicked to the next page, where there were a name and a number.

Marie Wisdom 09016732156

She remembered her mum had mentioned that name to her before. Marie was her best friend from nursery to college. April wanted to contact her. Maybe she knew what this key belonged to, she couldn't very well just ask her dad. She put away her mother's notebook, back into her bag.

She stood up and listened at the door it had been an hour now since breakfast. Her clock showed 8.15 am. Her father should be a way to work by now.

Hearing nothing she took her bag and threw it over her shoulder. She opened the door slightly not seeing anyone she walked to the kitchen, she could leave via the back door.

"Miss, is everything okay?"

She stopped upon hearing a voice, it was the butler, Mr Tom Evans. He was a nice older gentleman, when she was young and scraped her knee he picked her up and scolded the floor which made her laugh instead of crying. When her mother died he stayed by her side while she was at the wake, he dried her tears with his handkerchief and burnt the insense with her.

She saw Mrs Kitty the maid out of the corner of her eye, she could only hold her tongue and lie for now. Mrs Kitty reported everything back to her stepmother. She didn't want to lie but she couldn't slip up at this stage.

"Tom, I am just heading out for a bit to get art supplies."

She bit her lip, disguising her lie and she noticed his scepticism but he would never say anything. He also saw Mrs Kitty by the door intently listening.

"Please take care and be home before dark otherwise... I will only worry."

She smiled at this genuine man and wondered what had happened to him after she died. Was he the only one who grieved for her?

She then rushed out the back door and headed to the side gate.

She opened it and walked the two miles to the security gate. Two security men saw her but didn't say anything as she left the villa complex. She wondered if they thought she was a maid or something.

She could only afford a bus so she waited and hopped on the next one that had arrived. She looked out at the city through the window, in two years it would be even more developed. She alighted the bus and walked to the nearest newsstand.

She was not allowed a phone and had no excess money to buy one for herself so she had to use the phone at the newsstand.

She saw an older man with grey hair in casual clothing behind the desk.

"May I use the phone please."

"Fifty cents a minute."

The older man didn't raise his head he just answered gruffly and pointed towards the phone.

"Thank you."

April gave him two dollars and walked to the phone. She took out her mother's notebook and dialled Marie's number.

Ring Ring Ring

"Bonjour."

A polite woman's voice came through the phone speaking French. April wondered if she had got the digits wrong.

"Sorry I was looking for Marie, Marie Wisdom."

April heard a loud gasp.

"This is she... is this Kathleen's daughter? Oh, I just knew one day you would contact me. I am in France right now."

"I just wanted to know if you knew what a gold key belongs to."

"Mmm Hmm, your mother was very smart and always had a backup plan. Your new stepmother was a snake, I still question her heart attack... sorry sweetheart. You must forgive me, your mother used to urge me to get to the point. Anyway go to the First Trust National Bank and use the key for a dropbox the number should be on the key."

"Okay thanks, Marie."

"Let me know if you need anything or want a chat. I can also fly back as soon as you need me."

"Thanks but not yet."

"I understand, I understand. Take care."

Beep

April pieced it together at that moment. While she was being killed by Racheal she had mentioned her stepmother did the same to her mother. April's disgust filled her face and rage burned in her heart, igniting the desire for revenge.

She thanked the newspaper clerk and headed to the bank.