Chapter Text
I have been preparing myself for the knock on my bedroom door. But when it comes, I’m afraid to answer.
“Doctor Manette? I’ve come to tell you about my past in France, as we agreed.”
With trembling hands, I open the door. “Hello, Charles,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face. “Come in.”
He sits down on my desk chair, and I sit on my bed. My eyes go to the bench in the corner, like they always do. It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe.
“I was born to a noble family,” he begins.
I can’t meet his eyes. My heart beats faster, and I know it’s actually happening. This isn’t me being paranoid; Charles is really going to say-
“My mother was forced into the marriage, and she was deeply unhappy. My father and his brother were cruel, dangerous, and very powerful.”
Calm down calm down calm down you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe.
“As soon as I was independent and had made my own life in England, I renounced my inheritance, and I’ve never spoken to anyone from my old life since.”
“May I ask,” I say with a trembling voice, “the name of your family?”
No no no no no I don’t want to hear it I don’t want to hear I don’t-
“The Marquis St. Evremonde.”
My vision is blurred, and I can barely register that Charles is talking to me. “Doctor Manette?” he asks. God, his voice sounds just like them. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say somehow. Act normal. I make myself look him in the eyes, trying not to notice that his face his face looks so much like them and smiling. “Everything is fine. Now go. Marry my daughter.”
The ceremony is a blur. I want to be happy for Lucie, but my mind is a fog of prison dark shoes bars shoes one hundred and five north tower shoes.
My dear Lorry notices and squeezes my hand, bringing me back to the present. “Is something wrong?” he asks, his face full of concern. I shake my head no and look forward. At Charles. His face his face his face his face.
Soon they are married, and I wave goodbye to Lucie as she leaves for her honeymoon. Smile for another second. Hold it together for a little longer. For Lorry. For Lucie.
My mind is circling despair like a bathtub drain. I’m getting closer and closer to succumbing, and I can’t stop it. I feel the imprisonment descend on me like a fog.
Lucie disappears.
The prison closes in.