"You can never be happy, not with those lies you're living with...who even are you?"

I woke up, the words still in my ear. Ruby was in her own room. Dylan's orders.

It was true, I've been living in so many lies my life was confusing me itself, like an illusion. No, more like a drawing of circles made up of circles, or a hand drawing a drawing of a hand drawing a drawing that was the first hand.

Why are people so confusing?

I ate breakfast and wished I was at ease as Calvin and Ruby, who talked of seeing their cousins again. Together, they said, they would all see Blanche and Vaughn would help her meet them all slowly.

After breakfast we moved to the tea room to talk about Blanche. Dylan never smiled in everyone's presence and was stone cold.

"We were told," Calvin updated me, "that you were hired as Blanche's replacement and your real name is Rose?"

"Would you s-stay with us?" Ruby looked hopeful and I hugged her sitting next to me.

"I'm not sure, I intend to leave soon," I said.

"You will leave, then?" Scarlett smiled. "That's a pity. Would you like to work for me?"

"No, Rose and I need to talk things out," Dylan suddenly declared. "Alone."

"You don't have rights to her or anything!" Scarlett snapped.

Yet when Calvin led the crowd by standing up and leaving, she followed with a roll of her eyes. Ruby's eyes flickered away from Dylan and she gave my hand a small squeeze.

With everyone gone, and Vaughn probably tending to Judy right now, I faced Dylan, heart pounding heavily.

His eyes were dark, so dark it felt like sinking in an abyss as I looked in.

"Did you always know Blanche, Dylan?" I asked drily.

"No. It was a few weeks after I got into that fight with Auguste about the fortune. I met Judy through Hughes, who went occasionally as Auguste's messenger, and introduced myself. Since Judy trusted Hughes she accepted the small cabin I offered her to stay in for Auguste's funeral. Hughes asked her to stay put for him until the will was read."

"And then?" I asked.

"I couldn't take it. I couldn't stop wishing I could've received the will, and you said you could help me." His eyes turned away.

"So money was everything?"

"No!" He sighed. "It was you, Rose."

I wouldn't be bought by his sweet words.

"Are you really working with the goddamn mafia for this? Bothering the Blackwoods, making sure they'd lie I was Rose forever?" I was finally letting loose my bottled emotions. "I always thought we would be allies!"

"And we are!" Dylan argued, and when I backed away he stood up and hand my hand.

Gently my hand rested and I swallowed, his warm fingers over mine and then our fingers intertwined. I was feeling foolish again, telling myself to hold that hand when I should brush it off.

"I had regretted choosing you as a replacement, so much," he whispered, body close to mine. Like that day we laughed under the sun in summer, his real voice returned. "I regret it so much—but then I realized it was meant to be, Rose. You were just as lost as me."

"I—I wasn't," I whispered.

Lies.

Sal and the Blackwoods scared me so much. I was living by adapting fake aliases. I had no true identity. I had no one to rely on to the point I went to find Auguste of all people, that rainy day that sealed our fate.

"You will be protected by the de Winters. You'll have no need to work ever again, you would be showered with respect from other influential families and never bow to Scarlett or Olivia," Dylan said gently and yet like a scared little boy. "I had no power until this point, and now I will protect you."

I looked up and his face was so sorrowful I began to cry, wondering who exactly the villain was.

I had convinced myself I hated Dylan, but reality was my feelings were too strong. His each and every expression stabbed at my heart and I understood heartbreak.

Heartbreak wasn't being away from Dylan, but knowing his true side.

"I always cared about you, Rose."

"You're—you're too cruel." I was sobbing, and Dylan wiped at my eyes with his fingers.

"It can be an engagement. I'll wait for you, Rose."

Why did it sound like a lie?

If Hughes was the queen piece then Dylan was the king piece and I was at checkmate. I always despised chess, but now I understood it much better than Scarlett's explanation.

"Will I be your doll?" I asked, pushing his chest away from me. "Will I have to live like before, in the Blackwoods house? Be at your side, always smiling and happy, and be used for my body?"

"Rose, Rose—"

Dylan leaned down towards me.

He was so evil, but I didn't stop it as he kissed my tears and eyelid. Somewhere the old Dylan had to be there, the Dylan who would touch my face and hair when he was enchanted by my looks. 

The real Dylan who joked with me about Caralette. The Dylan who brought me to the treehouse, who couldn't tell me he loved me. The awkward, scowling, laughing, and happy Dylan.

My fingers reached for his elbow. He leaned down to whisper.

"Listen to me—you'll never have to live that way again. You'll be Rose de Winter and we could sell this house and even go to a different country. We could travel anywhere, for as long as you want."

"You're the one who wants to leave," I whispered.

He smiled sadly. "Maybe. I never thought I'd have a companion I like so much, I even risked having my family find out. You're too kind, after all."

Deep inside I knew. When Dylan invested in me I had suspicions. When he spoke to Hughes, or whenever he left to be free of this house.

"You were willing to marry Vaughn to have the fortune returned to me. You were so kind—and naive. I thought back then, should I use you, or should I keep you?" Dylan smiled. "You always came to me to have your birthmark made by my hands. I decided then, I wanted you."

Maybe I had already fallen, as Ruby's nursery rhymes went. Ruby really saw deep in the human psyche.

"You're insane." I turned away and removed my hand from his, the floral wallpaper spinning, and the way Dylan was so close to me was making me feel strange.

"I won't let you go. Not again," he said.

Again?

Oh, he meant Rose.

"You're still obsessed with her," I said.

"If we marry, I'll be giving my flowers to a real, live girl."

"Real, live girl?" I smiled and thought about it.

More than replacing Rosemarie Blackwood in name and identity, I can replace her in Dylan's heart. Was I that petty of a woman?

Yes, I was.

Dylan was cruel and kept secrets from me, but I had my secrets, I had my own desires.

"Let me visit the Blackwoods. Let me see Rosalind one more time, and talk to her."

"I will come with you." He looked at me.

"Why would you be there?"

"As your fiancé."

His expression made me think of that warm spring day. I kept thinking back now, because it seemed like I was reading a book and a character I loved dies. It makes no sense to me, it hurt me, so I keep rereading that book.

But Dylan stood in front of me and he was truly there, same handsome face, same straight and confident posture in suits, and the memories were there.

He once replied to my question what he'll be and he said a brother. He told me my feelings were not not reciprocated.

But I wasn't Rose. I was a girl from a much sadder past, and he ought to know.

"Then come," I said softly.

You'll learn for yourself what the Blackwoods estate is like. In fact, you'll learn how much of an amateur you are.

Why had I even bothered? I simply took a step back from Rose to Blanche back to Rose again.

***

We prepared a dress and Dylan told Vaughn we'd be leaving in two days.

I stood there and the heat bothered me so I had my hair up. I was still like a doll, they said jokingly. Only I would know how it felt to be in a real dollhouse.

The day passed and I finally went to my room, eager to be undressed and have the fabric leave my skin as well as my girdle. Irene combed my hair after my shower and tried to dry it to the best of her ability.

"I'm sorry. I was told to not let you escape," Irene whispered.

The sudden apology made my heart pull. I looked at her biting her lips in the reflection of the mirror. Most of all, her hands shook a little as she dried my hair and placed the towel down.

"Do you think I'm pitiful?" I asked her. "I'll never be Blanche, and I'll always be dressed up by Dylan—who might turn into his father."

"I don't want you to have a fate worse than this. Isn't it ironic coming from me?" She smiled sadly.

I turned to her. "Maybe you are right. I've escaped a life I loathed even more."