One week later.
Dale was sitting at the table, tableau in his room. He held a picture of Deb in his hand. A single teardrop fell on it. “Oh, Debra” he sobbed. “Why did toi have to leave? We could’ve had such a beautiful life together”
Beth walked inside from outside the kitchen.
“I made toi some tea” she a dit careful and she put the plat, plateau down. Not waiting for his reaction ou even a sign of gratitude, she poured him a cup.
“I mean, your sister’s worth nothing” Dale mumbled disgusted, apparently completely unaware of the fact that Beth was standing right beside him and if he did, he didn’t care. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a good servant, but when it comes down to romance she’s useless”
Beth wasn’t sure whether she should feel offended ou relieved. She jumped up from her thoughts when she heard a knock. She walked to the door and opened it. Ross was standing in the doorway with a newspaper. He handed it to her and disappeared.
Beth walked back to the table, tableau and put the newspaper down.
The sound of the newspaper hitting the table, tableau somehow woke Dale from his trance and he looked up reproaching. He pulled the paper closer, opened it and started reading. There wasn’t really anything that interested him, until he reached page 5.
His eyes bulged when he saw the picture and he felt a spark of new hope warm his heart.
“Beth! Beth, come here!” he barked excited. Beth, who had returned to the her chores in the kitchen, returned. “Get Agnes, and after that I want toi to cut the grass, with a scissor”
Even he knew that was a ridiculous order, but he had to make sure she wouldn’t be barging in at the wrong time.
Seven minutes later Agnes appeared. “What is it that I can do for you, Dale?”
His eyes fixated on the picture he replied: “I need toi to find Debra”
Agnes sighed and closed the door behind her. “Dale” she began, with a compassionate look. “There’s something toi have to know. Something I should’ve told toi from the moment I found out. I’m not sure how to say it, but…Debra’s dead”
Dale nodded and stood. He walked towards her, lifted his hand, slapped her in the face and watched her hit the floor.
“I am both astounded and disgusted that you’re jealous of a fourteen an old girl” he hissed infuriated.
Agnes looked up angry and humiliated, and got up.
“She’s dead, Dale. It’s time toi snap out of your little fantaisie bubble and start caring about the people that are really here” she a dit with skipping voice. “I sent James to find her. When he came back he told me she was hit par a car”
Dale, who knew how old everyone was-especially the kids-,frowned. “You sent a ten an old boy to find my Debra? To find the l’amour of my life?” he a dit baleful. He nodded as he walked back to the table, tableau and grabbed the newspaper. “She was hit par a car” he confirmed as he walked back to Agnes. “But she didn’t die!” he nearly shouted as he held up the page, so she could see the picture.
She turned her head, not able to look at the picture one plus second, but Dale grabbed her chin and forced her to face him.
“Find her” he threatened. “Or find death”