FROM ELLA PERFAE
TO LARA PERFAE
34 MAY'S CORNER
CASTLEFORD
LO6 1AR
Dear Lara,
How are you?
How are the children?
Will they be attending the next trial? Will you?
I'm excited to see you again, regardless of how you may ignore me. I know my children won't, though. They won't be able to look away from their mother, with tears in their eyes, their expressions speaking out loud in that quiet courtroom; we miss you, we believe in you, we love you.
I know they don't believe what everyone is saying. They could never believe their mother is a murderer, and it must hurt them to know that it was their own aunt who's taken their mother away from them. Or have you kept that from them, too, just like the existence of my letters?
I'm not sure how many times I must warn you about the consequences of your actions, Lara, and how they'll change our family forever. They will scar my children. They will scar yours. How can you live with that?
Your silence alone has motivated me to keep my secrets close. It seems you wish to remain in the dark, where you have stayed your entire life. But I will keep writing to you in hopes you might change your mind. It is the only thing I can do because, as hard at it is to admit… this time, you are at an advantage.
But there is a difference between you and I.
While my methods may have not always been the most honourable, I always managed to help people in the end.
I helped your family; I helped them in so many ways. I helped push you to a decision that ultimately saved Cam's future, allowing him to be safe, allowing him a fresh new start where no one judged him.
And Azra. I'm certain you remember those few weeks she was practically glued to her phone. She was behaving strangely, even for Azra, and acting out more than usual. She wouldn't eat, she'd spend hours and hours in her room, and when I pointed it out, you described it as "part of growing up", a rebellious phase that you must have thought was a healthy part of her development. You were short-sighted and as care-free as always. So I dealt with it.
One evening, when she was over, I decided to check her phone. I had watched Azra carefully, catching the moment she entered her password. It was quite difficult; Azra was always hunched over her phone and hiding the screen from view.
The next step was the hardest. I waited for the perfect moment to take her phone, but she never let it out of her sight. So, I took the children swimming and kept the keys to their lockers while they were in the pool. That gave me an hour to find out what was happening with Azra.
While they swam, I waited in the locker room and after five minutes, I took out her phone. I entered the password and checked her messages, her call log, but nothing seemed unusual or out of the ordinary. I dug a little deeper, checking her photos, and that is when everything clicked.
There were hundreds of photos of emaciated models and celebrities, of mood boards that acted as 'thinspiration'. And then there were the secret photos, kept hidden in a separate album; pictures of measuring tape pulled tight against her thighs, her arms and her stomach, of plates with tiny portions, and of cigarettes, which I later learned she had stolen from you and Amir. I looked at her social media apps, and saw that she was posting on forums, asking strangers for advice on how to be thinner, and how to look prettier. It was at that moment I knew I needed to help my niece.
I had already seen the path she was on; the path you had set out for her. You allowed your children to eat processed junk, and always kept sugary drinks in your fridge. I had always noticed Azra's second helpings, and the way her clothes were beginning to strain, and Azra must have noticed this about herself, too.
She was beginning to question what she wanted, to set goals for herself, and it was vital she received proper guidance from someone who knew what was right, who knew what would help her in the long-run. I made sure she came to me, first.
You would have ruined it.
You would have turned it into some emotional drama about loving oneself, but the reality is that it wouldn't have changed a thing. She would still be walking down this unhealthy path which would have cost her health, her confidence and even her relationships as she grew up. She had to be saved from you, from being loaded up with more and more of your excuses to be lazy and care-free. You would have broken her if I hadn't stepped in and empowered her.
So I dealt with it by protecting her progress.
I returned her phone to the locker and acted like I hadn't seen anything. But that evening, during dinner, I served her less food and didn't give her any dessert because there was "none left". I asked if she wanted to join me for tea, instead. When I said it was healthy, she agreed.
While we drank our tea together, I made sure she saw me take a diet pill, and when she asked me what it was, I told her it was simply caffeine and a few herbs measured into small white pills that helped me stay healthy and slim. Her expression had wavered, and all I said was that she could tell her Aunt El anything.
That was all it took for Azra to begin confiding in me.
She told me she had been worried about her appearance as of late, and I told her I understood perfectly. I told her it was smart to be mindful of these things, that it showed ambition and strength. She looked so relieved to be understood.
I always wonder how you might have reacted; I imagine you would have just laughed if off, offering Azra a cookie while saying something so typically Lara, like, "A girl's got to eat".
Soon enough, I became Azra's confidante. Her guide. I praised her strength and encouraged her to take control. I gave her the diet pills, and before you lose your head, they were completely harmless. They simply gave her a boost. I also showed her how to track her calories properly, which exercises were the most useful, and which of her outfits to throw away because they made her look heavier.
Whenever her resolve would waver, I'd send her old pictures of herself alongside images of celebrities she aspired to look like. It had taken a while to stick, but eventually, she made progress, she learnt how to dress properly, and now look at her. She's thinner. She's more confident. And it was me who built her up.
I gave her the tools to succeed and to apply herself. She's become disciplined. She now understands that happiness and worth are tied to one's efforts.
Do you see the way I helped her?
I wasn't encouraging an illness, Lara. I was simply encouraging a better choice, a better lifestyle, exactly like Mum did with us.
Remember how she'd always tap our wrists whenever she thought we'd had enough?
She also had a tendency to compare us to with others. And while she measured you against people's intellect and grades, I was competing with their appearances, judged for what I consumed and all those yummy second helpings. I tried my hardest, but my competitors always managed to get the better of me. Thankfully, I kept listening to Mum and eventually managed to keep my body from spilling over the edges, and I've been like this ever since. Strong. Disciplined. Flawless.
That's the gift I gave to Azra. I helped her to be exceptional. I helped her fight back against the danger of fading into the background.
And it wasn't just the children I helped, Lara. I helped you, too. I helped Amir. I saved your entire marriage, for goodness sake!
Do you remember when Amir was offered that new position in Dubai? He was so excited about it; the sun, the money, and the adventure. And you were happy for him, too.
I never understood it.
You were actually happy for him to travel miles and miles away to another land, to work and live without any friends or family nearby. He would have been so lonely, coming home to an empty apartment every night, no one to talk to, no one to make him dinner, no one to care for him. I couldn't let that happen. It was a tragedy in the making, not just for Amir, but for your family, too.
You were both hoping after Amir left for Dubai and worked there for a few months, the whole family could relocate there.
I went to Mum. I told her everything. And she agreed with me, instantly. She saw what was at stake; she couldn't let her daughter and her grandchildren live so far away.
So, we fought to keep our family together.
We reframed the idea of this new change, to show you it was more akin to fantasy than something realistic.
I talked to Amir, asked him if he wanted to be a neglectful father to Cam and Azra, a stranger they'd video call on birthdays. Meanwhile, Mum worked on you, using the same reason because there was no guarantee that you and the children would be able to join him so quickly.
We explained that leaving meant abandoning your family, all your friends, and the community you've been a part of for so many years. Your children would have to find a new school, make new friends all over again, and learn a whole new language. It didn't take long for Dad to voice his worries, too.
I was on the road to convincing Amir, but you were quite strong-headed. And so we decided to focus only on Amir, since it was his new role that would take you away.
I tried to appeal to his duty and to his pride. I used Dad as an example; a great man who built his legacy where he stood. From here, Amir could be just as great, and he'd also have his family by his side, unlike in Dubai. He wouldn't have to miss birthdays or end-of-year recitals and plays. He'd be there for all the gatherings, and I promised that I'd make him all the protein shakes he wanted.
I think it was his love for our family that made him hesitate.
Eventually, the company offered the job to someone else. It happened so suddenly, it's true, but thankfully Amir was hired for another role soon after; one that didn't require him to leave the country.
The truth is, one of the mothers from the PTA, her husband worked at the same company as Amir, but he was much higher brass. They were really understanding as I opened up to them about our family's dilemma. They offered to help me, and to show my gratitude, I promised to introduce their daughter to a tutor I knew.
I truly believe it all worked out in the end.
You can be angry all you want, but I know you're secretly relieved. You wouldn't have been able to take care of the children without Amir. He was your support, your rock, and thanks to me, your family remained intact.
Look at everything I've done for you, Lara.
I've only begun to scratch the surface; there are so many more truths to tell. How many times do you think I , and others, have shielded you from the consequences of your own life?
I saved your son from being ostracized. I saved your daughter from a lifetime of self-loathing. I saved you and your husband from a mistake that would have shattered our family. And luckily for you, it doesn't end there.
If anything, I am the reason for your family's stability, the architect of your happiness. And yet, you repay me by pointing a finger at me and accusing me of being a murderer.
I am not the villain in your story. I am simply your big sister. Mum and Dad watched over you, and then taught me how to watch over you, handing the responsibility down like some great heirloom. I was overlooked so you could thrive. I was used to dirtying my own hands so you didn't have to dirty yours.
That is why it was the greatest irony when I finally decided to do it for myself, for my own safety and happiness, and you condemned me for it. You've spent your whole life benefiting from my help, my resolve, but the moment things become unexplainable and too difficult for you, the moment things no longer served your interests, the moment I tried to to save myself, you decided to turn against me.
I am not a murderer, Lara. I am a mother. I am a sister and a daughter. And I belong with my family.
We have four days until the next trial. Please stop this madness. Tell them you were wrong. Tell them grief and confusion clouded your judgment. Revoke your statement so we can be a family again.
Do it for Cam and for Azra. For Aiden and Cleo. For Dad, who, even in the haze of his mind, must wonder where I am.
Do it for the sister who has lived to protect you,
Ella