The Angel's Dilemma

The stage lights dim as the ballerinas glide into position, their movements a symphony of grace and precision. Each dancer mirrors the other, their synchronicity mesmerizing the audience. In the background, Verity rehearses her part as Odette, her focus unwavering as she perfects each delicate movement. When her moment arrives, she steps onto the stage with a poised elegance, her hands flowing like water as she makes her way to the center. The other ballerinas part like a curtain, giving her the spotlight as she prepares to execute the most challenging sequence of her performance. With every step, Verity’s control and artistry captivate the crowd, building to the climactic final pose. She gently lowers herself to the floor, her eyes lifting toward the heavens. But in that instant, she realizes her gr*ve mistake. Suddenly, the light above her crashes down, shattering into a cascade of glass that falls in slow motion. Fragments rain down, slicing through the air and cutting across her face. The glinting shards mix with the bl**d that trickles from her wounds, staining her pristine white dress in a horrific tapestry of red. "No!" She jolts awake with a scream, her body trembling as she gasps for breath, the remnants of the nightm*re clinging to her like a shadow. "Why are my dreams always in color? It's so annoying." Once she manages to calm herself, she gets out of bed and heads toward the bathroom. Suddenly, her foot catches on a chair, sending her crashing to the floor. She slowly feels around, searching for the cause of her fall. When her hand lands on the chair, recognition fuels her frustration, and her anger flares up. "AAAHHH!" Her scream echoes through the mansion, piercing the quiet of the morning. Startled, the maids rush to her room, their faces etched with concern and fear, eager to discover the source of the commotion. When the maids arrive at her room, she orders them to place the chair in front of her bed. Then, with a steely glare, she demands that each of them trip over the chair while blindfolded. They follow her orders, each maid tripping over the chair one by one. By the time the secretary arrives, half of the fifteen maids have already complied with the request. "One second." Her secretary told to the maids. "What are you doing?" "No one knows where this came from. This stool placed right by the bathroom, at the perfect place for me to be topple over." She addresses her secretary with a blank expression, her voice devoid of emotion. "No one knows who put that in there. They all need to experience that someone who cannot see anything may trip on that and have their head cr*ck open and d*e." She instructs them coldly, then stands up and takes hold of her walking stick. "No one yet?" "Was there a ghost here or something? Okay... you're all fired." With a small smirk, she slowly walks toward the maids, counting them as she goes. Just as she reaches the third maid, the maid speaks up. "It was me. I used it yesterday when I cleaned up old seasonal clothes and forgot it was there." The maid spoke with a fear on her voice. "I know." "The stool was covered with a cheap lavender smell. And I wasn't asking for the reason... I do not care about that..." She whispers, the smirk never leaving her face, causing the maid to bow her head, trying to hide her emotions. Verity then loudly stamps her walking stick on the floor, commanding everyone's attention before speaking again. "Only the lavender girl is fired." The maid looks up at her with teary eyes, but Verity only stares back coldly, even though she can't see her. After a few tense seconds, the maid quickly leaves the room. _______________________________________ "Your staff members cause trouble because you always come and go right on time." Verity sarcastically addresses Yvonne, the caretaker of the mansion, who has just arrived at her room's wardrobe. "I'll give you the room of your choice, so move in." Yvonne lets out a sigh in response to her boss’s sarcastic remark, clearly weary of Verity's behavior. "How can I handle your temper 24 hours a day. Mr. Charles can stick around because he adores you, but I---" "You don't like me?" Verity abruptly cuts her off, speaking with a flat, emotionless tone. "You know that already. Here take your mail for today." Yvonne responds with a sarcastic tone of her own, smiling at Verity before handing over the mails. "Five." Verity counts the mails, then hands them back to Yvonne, instructing her to read them aloud. "The university, association, donation, and a us*less one as always." Yvonne begins reading the mails aloud, but when she reaches the last one, she pauses, her eyes immediately darting to Mr. Charles, who is standing beside Verity. "This is the water bill. It's just some kind of advertisement. You know, like a chain mail." Mr. Charles tries to lie to her, but Verity isn’t easily fooled. Sensing that something is wrong, she swiftly grabs the mail from Yvonne’s hands, despite not being able to see it herself. She opens the mail and carefully feels the texture of the paper, trying to discern its type and significance. "California became a great state. They made an ad in braille." She says sarcastically and begins to feel the words carved into the textured paper, her fingers tracing the embossed characters. "Invitation to Fantasia Cultural Foundation's... 20th Anniversary Party?" Verity speaks, and Yvonne tentatively reaches out to take the mail from her boss's hand. However, Verity, with her keen intuition, swiftly sl*ps Yvonne’s hand away. "Why is this already here? Shouldn't it be next week? Hahaha." Yvonne awkwardly laughs, attempting to defuse the tense atmosphere as her boss continues to feel the braille mail. "Ms.Verity isn't going to attend anyway. Mrs. Larson is so persistent." She added. "Tuesday at 5 pm. Tomorrow..." Verity speaks while Yvonne and Mr. Charles look on with concerned look. _______________________________________ "Gon!" Verity called out, and her loyal dog immediately trotted over to her. "Let's go together." She said softly, patting Gon’s head. Turning to Mr. Charles and Yvonne, she added. "I can go alone." Without waiting for a response, she began to walk away, intending to take a jog in the park with just her dog for company. As she left, Mr. Charles’s phone rang. "Yes? How can I help you?" he answered, his tone professional. "Hello, doctor. The results are out?" Verity’s keen ears caught the conversation, and she quickly turned back, snatching the phone from Mr. Charles. "This is Katherine Verity Monteverde. You can talk to me. I'm the one who will receive the cornea donation." "What's the problem this time?" There was a pause as she listened to the doctor’s response. Her expression hardened. "Did the guardian refuse at the last minute again? Or did you spot an infection again? What mistake is it this time?" Her words carried the weight of her exhaustion from hearing the same disappointments over and over. After the doctor spoke, Verity’s patience snapped. "Forget it. Don't you ever call me again. I'll remove myself from the waiting list." She said coldly, aggressively ending the call and handing the phone back to Mr. Charles. Without another word, she turned and walked away, her irritation evident in her stiff posture. Mr. Charles started to follow her, concern etched on his face, but Yvonne gently stopped him. "She'll feel better after getting some fresh air. I would have been upset too. They've been doing this every single time." Yvonne said, her gaze filled with sympathy as she watched Verity leave. "You know what she went through." He said to Yvonne, his voice laced with sorrow. "After she went blind, she forbid any of us from mentioning ballet. She wanted nothing to do with Fantasia, it's been three years already." He added, recalling the difficult journey Verity had endured since going blind. "I should go to the hospital." Mr. Charles replied, his voice heavy with concern. He then turned and walked back inside the mansion. __________ The First Page Turns...