When the last of the men disappeared down the hall, the door remained ajar.
Ella stood slowly with her legs trembling. Her heart pounded as she stepped back into the receiving room. "Mama?" She called out.
Eleanor was still standing by the table. The papers lay scattered now, no longer neat. Her shoulders were rigid, her hands braced against the wood as if it were the only thing holding her upright.
Ella crossed the room quietly, afraid that if she spoke too loud, her mother might shatter.
"They're gone," Ella whispered.
Eleanor did not answer.
Then, slowly, Eleanor's hands began to tremble. Her fingers curled inward, nails biting into her palm, and her breath stuttered once, twice before breaking entirely.
"I should have known," Eleanor whispered, voice unraveling. "I should have seen it."
Ella rushed forward. "Mama—"
Eleanor turned, and the strength that held her upright collapsed all at once. Her knees gave way, and she sank to the floor.
"They used us," Eleanor sobbed. "I thought—God, I thought I was saving us. Giving you a much better life!"
Ella dropped beside her mother without hesitation, arms wrapped tightly around Eleanor. She pressed her face against her mother's shoulder as tears finally spilled over.
"I was so afraid," Eleanor went on, words tumbling out in broken gasps. "Afraid of being poor again, of failing you. Afraid of waking up one day and realizing I had dragged you into ruin with me," she stated.
Eleanor clutched Ella's sleeves as if terrified her daughter might disappear. "I was afraid that you would have the same life as I, living a life of hardship to put food on the table, which is supposed to be a man's job. I don't want you to suffer like me. I want you to have a title under your name, a noble."
Ella shook her head, tears soaking into the fabric of Eleanor's dress. "You don't have to worry about me. I can handle myself quite well, Mama."
"That's why even if I gave up everything I built and went here, marrying that man. Every insult, every comparison he made to his first wife, every look of disgust—I swallowed it. I endure it all, but then… He's poorer than us!" Eleanor's voice rose. A weak laugh escaped her mouth.
Then, Eleanor's laugh grew erratic. She placed her hands to her temples as if memories were too loud.
"I hate him," Eleanor whispered, referring to Richard. "I hate the way he looked at you like you were a disappointment. The way he reminded me every day that I was replaceable." Her eyes became unfocused, staring at nothing. "And one morning… I just… I couldn't do it anymore."
Ella stiffened slightly. "Mama?" She muttered as she didn't expect a sudden confession.
Eleanor's lips trembled. "Every morning when he drank his coffee… I put something in it. Not too much, or else, it would be noticeable."
"Mama!" Ella grabbed Eleanor's face to make her look into her eyes. "Mama, why did you do that? Why?"
"That's the only way for him to stop hurting us," Eleanor let out a sound that was half sob, half scream. "I thought it was the best for us."
Ella's world seemed to tilt. Her chest ached as the weight of her mother's words settled over her. For a moment, she didn't know what to do.
'My mother… is a murderer,' Ella thought, but she couldn't say it out loud. She didn't know what to say, to condemn her mother, or keep the secret to her grave.
Eleanor's lips trembled. "I killed him," she said hoarsely. "Not with a blade, but quietly, slowly. That's not the best way for him to die, but I'm not that bad to actually physically hurt him."
"I-I understand, Mama," Ella nodded slowly. "Please calm down."
Eleanor collapsed fully into Ella, shaking violently. "I regret it," she sobbed. "I regret marrying him. I regret thinking money was worth my soul. I regret dragging you into this cursed house. I thought I was protecting you, Ella. I only made everything worse."
Ella pulled back just enough to look at her mother's face. "Mama, listen to me," she said softly.
Eleanor's eyes flickered to hers.
"You made terrible choices," Ella admitted with a voice trembling but honest. "And yes, what you did was wrong, but you didn't do it because you were cruel. You did it because you were scared. Because you loved me."
Eleanor shook her head weakly. "Love doesn't excuse murder."
"No," Ella said quietly. "But it explains why you're breaking apart now." She rested her forehead against her mother's. "We can't change the past, but we're still here. Together."
Eleanor let out a long, shuddering breath, as if clinging to those words. "We have nothing now," she whispered. "The accounts are empty. The creditors will return. This house, everything… it will be taken if we don't pay them back. I ruined us."
Ella wiped her tears with the back of her hand and managed a small, determined smile. "Then we start again."
Eleanor looked at her in disbelief.
"We're broke," Ella continued. "So what? We'll earn. I'll work. You work. I don't care if it's sewing, bookkeeping, or selling bread— anything. We can even sell clothes again, too!"
"I don't want you to work, Ella." Eleanor looked down, grabbed Ella's hand, and pressed them gently. "You have a title now. Even if we have nothing, you must hold your pride as a noblewoman."
"But I don't care about titles, Mama," Ella complained. She didn't mind being a commoner again since that was the life she had lived before.
"I know, but I care. We have extra gold coins from our previous business, and I can use them to pay the remaining debts. In that way, we still have a roof over our head. Also, we are now responsible for the whole manor," Eleanor explained. It hurt her to think that all her savings from her hardship would vanish in the blink of an eye.
Eleanor nodded in understanding, even though it was complicated, but then, she remembered something. "Mama, don't I have a brother? The heir to the Viscount. Where is he?"