6And here's chapter 3, hot off the presses!
June 15, 1961
I was finally able to get a clipping of a newspaper from Virginia. I don't know what to feel quite yet, so I'm just going to paste it here. For the memory.
MISSING HEIRESS FOUND MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD
Sunday, June 12, 1960
Lucille Winfield, heiress to the Foxworth and Winfield families of Charlottesville, VA, was found missing during the early hours of Friday which was set to be the day of her wedding to Lawrence Wright of the equally prestigious Wright family. A note was found in her bedroom, which was where she was last seen, and it is thought to be a suicide note. By the word of her family, it was written in her own hand, and not a forgery.
An extensive search of the nearby woods and lake were conducted by the local and state police, but no trace of the woman has been found. However, it should be noted that the nearest lake is very deep. Additionally, a length of rope used to tie a canoe to shore was found missing, said canoe was found just offshore. One staff member at Foxworth Hall was interviewed by the press and theorized that she had taken it and tied one end to a large rock, and the other to her feet, and then threw herself into the waters from said canoe.
There is still an ongoing investigation, though currently the case is not considered a kidnapping or homicide. More news will be reported as necessary.
And there it is. They think I'm dead. At least, that's the prevailing story. I don't know how that rope went missing, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say some local kids stole it. They were always rooting through the tool sheds and woodpiles for things to build a fort. I just hope they don't try and go for the idea that I ran away and try to do a national search.
In any case, I dyed my hair again. My roots were starting to show. I think the kids are safe for now, the Dollangangers are all thought to be dead. I'm only suspected to be dead. I ought to get to the drugstore and buy some more blush too. Maybe I'm just paranoid. Actually, scratch that. I'm definitely paranoid. The bathroom is full of makeup and extra hair bleach. I cut my hair much shorter than I used to keep it. Lucky for me, I like this style.
I sometimes contemplating putting blush on Carrie and Cory, even for my own mind's sake. While they tan wonderfully in the summer sun, they're still pale, they're still pretty short. They haven't hit any growth spurts to speak of since we've been here, and it's almost been a year. They should be growing like weeds, but they aren't. Part of me wants to take them to a pediatrician but that would involve more questions than I have answers for yet. I don't think she caused too much damage physically (Carrie might have asthma but that could also just be genetic) but mentally is another story.
Why does Cathy have to flinch when I raise my voice, even just a little?
Why does Chris feel the need to shield everyone?
Why do I keep finding him holding Cathy, in the dead of night, and she's sobbing?
Why do Carrie and Cory sometimes look so scared of me?
I can't say I didn't have a hand in all this. I could've gotten out sooner. I was young. I was scared. I still am.
I know things will get better, easier. They do every day. I just hope it won't take too long. It's tiring.
I'll write again tomorrow. I'm going to bed. Goodnight.
Camilla D.