"Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
Mix it up and make it nice,
Pop! Goes the weasel".

I whistle lightly in the bathroom of the secret room. Mother hasn't called for me and I am prepared to leave before she wakes up hopefully.

Still whistling, I take a pair of scissors and look straight into the mirror.

"This hair has got to go", I mutter and resume whistling.

Yes finally! I only hope the forest on your head didn't breed any wild animals.

I take a fistful of my waist-length hair and sigh heavily before cutting.
Few minutes later, my once long hair is now shoulder length.

I clean up, pack my bag, put everything in order and exit the secret room. I make my way downstairs. The heat in the living room hits me like a damn truck. Why did mother turn up the heat?

Just then, I cast a glance outside and it's snowing. Oh no! I forgot that Christmas is approaching. I go to the kitchen and open a cabinet filled with gloves.

Why mother keeps a cabinet filled with gloves in the kitchen is beyond me.

Well it came in useful now didn't it?

I wear a pair of gloves and put three pairs in my back pack. I slowly creep to the door.

"You were leaving without saying goodbye?", mother's questioning voice resonates through the vast living room.

My father did a nice work here. I glance around. The fire place, the dining room, the kitchen, the store room all downstairs. The game room, spy room, secret room, the gym all in the middle floor. The terrace and photograph room all on the first floor.

My gaze finally lands on my mother's normal, pale and expectant face. This time she's wearing a black lingerie.

"It's only five thirty in the morning and I didn't want to wake you. Besides, I've overstayed my welcome. I've spent over twelve hours here which is way beyond my normal time", I say with a neutral tone.

"Nadine", mother calls as she makes her say down the steps.

She's really beautiful and elegant.

"Yes Mommy", I answer politely.

"Your new haircut suits you"

"Thanks Ma!"

"You can never overstay your welcome in your own home. Your father built this house in your name", my mother says with the tears making her eyes glisten.

"I know that but the situation of things this past few years has rendered me homeless and helpless. I'd rather live in the mud free than get caught again and taken back to prison for a crime I didn't commit", I vehemently say with the tears threatening to spill.

You're so emotional and pathetic.

I sniff and turn my back on her. She holds my hand and grabs me, forcing me to face her.

"Nadine, Christmas is only a week away. Please stay with me. I've missed you so much", she whispers as the tears fall from her eyes.

"Please Mommy, don't do this. I have to go and even if I did stay. Won't Jack and his family be coming over? I can't risk it. I really can't", I say holding her face between my palms.

"Is this about them? Are you so jealous of them you would rather roam on the streets than stay in your house?", mother yells.

"A house Mommy, not a home. I've grown so accustomed and comfortable on the streets than in your house. And no this is not about Jack and his family. Jack is like a brother to me and I wish him nothing short of the best. How could you even think that?", I yell back and run my fingers through my hair in a frustrated manner.

"Then what is it about?"

"I just told you. I can't risk getting caught again for..."

"That's not entirely the reason", mother says cutting me short.

I throw my back pack on the floor and fall on the couch.

"What truth are you hiding from me?", I ask with my face in between my palm. I feel her presence beside me and a warm hug engulfs me.

"Oh Nadine! I was afraid to tell you because of how you would react. The truth is, Marco is not Marco. The real Marco died two years ago"

Is it really that bad that she'd lie to me? I internally roll my eyes and play along.

I remove my hand from my face and look up at her. I open my mouth to say something but finding no words, I close them back.

I get up from the couch and begin to feel sweaty all over my body. I remove my coat and gloves and turn off the heater and turn on the air conditioner.

I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I rinse my face in the sink and then, I start crying.

Maybe I do know how to act after all. I for one know that whatever she's hiding has to be so big for her to lie to me about it.

"I'm really sorry Nadine. I didn't know how to tell you"

"That dog was given to me by my late father on my eighteenth birthday mother. It became more than just a dog to me. It became my best friend too and she's gone?", I wail terribly still facing the sink.

"How could...", I start saying and turn around. I come face to face with the 'impersonated' Marco. My face becomes sullen and my eyes puffy.

I move to my mother and carry the dog from her. I rock it back and forth.

"How is this not my Marco? How did I never realize this wasn't my Marco? Haven't I betrayed Marco for not recognizing her?"

"Oh Nadine please don't hate me", my mother pleads.
I look at her and fresh tears swell in my eyes. I hug her with my side.

"Oh Mommy! I could never hate you. Even if you were the one who murdered Asher, I'd be mad sure but, I could never hate you"

Why would you lie though?

My mother hugs me and Marco so dearly and directs us to the three in one couch in the living room

"Let's talk Nadine"

"I agree let's talk", I say putting Marco on my lap and stroking her fur. She growls in content. No matter what mother says, this will always be my Marco.

"How about we start from why you left England?", I suggest.

"I guess I've avoided that topic for too long now", she says and crosses her leg. She twirls her hair between her thumb and pointy finger and continues;

"Jack requested for me to come. His wife, Joan, is an orphan and she's lived in America all her life. Her foster parents requested for her to remain or there will be no wedding", she pauses, gets up and brings a drink.

I continue to stroke Marco's fur somewhat unconsciously now as I watch mother intently. She returns to her position with a pack of fruit juice.

"Want some?", she asks and I shake my head in response.

"As I was saying, Her foster parents didn't want Joan too far away. Jack wanting to be with Joan by all means agreed to stay in America. So you know his mother, my best friend, died while you were in uh, prison and of course his father died while he was a kid. Anyways, he didn't have any financial help and so he called me. I leased the house they're staying in right now to him", mother says, looking at me to see if I'm understanding what she's saying.

I nod my head in understanding, encouraging her to go on.

"After leasing it to him, I told him he shouldn't bother about the rent and all. I told him I was giving it to him as a wedding gift. Well he was grateful. Mighty grateful. When Joan was pregnant, her foster mom died. Mind you, her foster mom was old. Really old. So, Jack was scared for her and the baby and he pleaded with me to come down to America and help his wife. Lonely, old me obliged and that's how I ended up here. Besides this house has only ever been lonely since your father built it. It is the grandest house in Chicago, Illinois after all"

Mother concludes and sips her fruit drink.

"So what happened to the house in England?", i ask finally laying Marco to sleep in his cot. I begin to bite my lower lip.

"Oh I sold it to one Tallulah Wilder", she says, gesturing nonchalantly. I nod absent mindedly.

"How is Jack doing financially now?", I ask, getting up and picking up my backpack from the floor. I empty it out on the floor.

"Oh he's doing great. He's a general manager in one of Wilnic's company", mother says and helps me arrange the items on the floor.

"So he didn't pursue his dreams of football again"

"No"

"What's this Nadine?", mother asks holding out Wilder's green card.

"It's a..."

"Oh! My! God! You have met Eric Wilder?"

"Yes", I reply shrugging like it's no big deal.

"How did you get his green card?",she asks staring at it in utter disbelief.

"I am Samantha Nadine Montero, the daughter of Finn Montero. I have my ways", I say smirking.

"Tell me everything about your encounter with him?".

"No"

You know you want to.

"And I will make you your favorite chocolate cookies with..."

"Well to be honest, he's not attractive. Or I don't find him attractive. But oh mother he has such hot legs..."

So I begin recalling every moment spent with Eric.

"Poor you", mother sighs once I finished telling her everything.

"Is this the business card of Nicholas Macaulay?"

"Uh no. It's the business card of Timmy Turner"

Mother gives me that weird look and I shrug.

"You see Nicholas Macaulay boldly written on the card and you're asking me annoying questions? You get annoying replies", I say rather matter of factly.

"Gosh! You are as sarcastic as your father", mother muses.

"You miss him don't you?", I ask looking at her.

"Oh Nadine! I miss him so much and you remind me of him so much. The way you talk, the way you smile, the way you look, the way you act. Everything about you reminds me of my Finn"

"Alright! I'll take that as my cue to leave", I say as I carry my already arranged back pack.

"No wait!"

"Wait what? I have to go mommy. I don't want you grieving all over again because I remind you of my dad"

"Okay I'm sorry" she says, sniffing back her tears.

"Mommy! I'm not upset. I miss him too but I really can't stay here", I whisper and hug her from the side.

She pushes me firmly away and looks me directly in the eye, angrily.

Oh no! Not that look!

Now you get blackmailed emotionally.

"Why? What's stopping you from staying? For Pete's sake Samantha. The FBIs and MI6 have no clue you're here. So what's stopping you?", she yells angrily.

Okay, she just called me Samantha. I am toast.

I bend my head and stare hard at the ground. I look up at the ceiling, hands akimbo and I exhale loudly. I close my eyes tightly and feel mother's gaze on me. I soon begin to feel the anger rise inside me.

Why is this woman being so difficult now?

I ball my hands into fist and open up my eyes. I look mother straight in the eyes and now it's like a stare down. She doesn't blink and I don't blink.

"Isabella Montero? How many times in a day does Jaylen and Jayden come here?", I ask still unblinking.

"How are you not blinking even when you're talking?", she distracts.

I raise an eyebrow and she slumps her shoulders.

"Very often", she replies and I blink.

"With their parents?"

"Not always"

"Do they know me? Do they know Samantha Montero?"

"Yes"

"Now my point is. Can you guarantee that they won't walk in on me sitting on that couch?"

No response.

"Can you guarantee that when they see me, they won't freak out?"

No response.

"Can you guarantee that they won't tell any other soul about my whereabouts?"

Still no response.

"That's what I thought Mom. See you next Christmas", I say finally and turn my back on her and head for the door.

"If you love me, stay" she says just as I turn the door knob.

Ah! There it is!

A/N~~
Author: what a chapter!

Samantha: fuck you!

Author: you don't have a dick

Isabella: what's going on here?

Samantha: dear readers, please vote if you hate being emotionally blackmailed by your mother.

Isabella: i did not blackmail you.

Samantha: no you didn't. You emotionally blackmailed me

Author: okay, that's enough. Sam take it from here.

Samantha: you're pathetic.

Author: like you 😆

Samantha: hey dear lovely readers! Thank you all so much for coming this far with me. I really want to give up but you guys keep pushing me. Please don't stop. Drop your comments below. Please vote and don't forget to share. I love you all. I hope you do stay safe 🤗🤗