Fifteen years had passed had past since and Alice still thought of Belinda now and then. She became a little worried for her after hearing news that some people were disappearing in Paris, all them men, but still she worried. Alice’s father had died; hospitalized after taking a fall and suffering from swelling in the brain. They told her not to worry and after a few days he was admitted for surgery. He lasted two hours before passing. Afterwards had all of her mother’s belongings that he would not let her take to her flat when she was able to leave that place. She took all her antiques, portraits, and the piano which fit perfectly in the corner of her living room.She had the one she bought sent to her father’s home and later auctioned off both. He had left the theater to her in his will. It was a surprise, even to Alice as she was still did performances, but she managed it well. At first, being stuck with her father’s fifth and last business partner, Harold Lachfield, made things difficult. He kept all the financial business to himself, telling her to focus more on her performances. She was willing to let this happen until the first play he did for the first time on his own was over budgeted and did not do well. After that Alice demanded to stay in the loop of what was going on. He thought he was clever when he forging a few papers, but Alice hired a young bookkeeper, Jeffery, who became her spy. The man was a bit jittery as of what she was asking of him, but he soon helped her with her little investigation. When she later confronted Harold on the issue, threatening to call officials, but his shaking voice, and the way crumbled down from a respectable man to a pitiful beggar, made Alice change her mind. From then on she handle almost everything, keeping Harold at arm’s length, getting Jeffrey as her new assistant and things were going much better.

Just when Alice thought life had handed her her share, Jeffery had come into her office to tell she had a visitor. When Alice first looked up, she thought she was dreaming. The beautiful woman wore a green and black silk and velvet dress, her hair braided and pinned with a butterfly, gold brooch, only leaving a lock to curl around her shoulder and stood in front of her desk, her gloved hands clenching in front of her lips, trying to hide her big smile.

“Belinda?”

“Hello, Alice.”

Alice couldn’t hold her excitement as she leaped from her chair. The hugged each other tightly and for so long. Alice pulled away and look into her eyes. The color of them sometimes looked green to her.

“I’ve missed you.”

Alice took off early to show Belinda her new home. Belinda had become a celebrity in Paris. Belle Dame they called her. After years a performing at the Paris Opera, she finally wanted to come and see if she could perform on the Hayward Theater.

Belinda was staying at a hotel a little ways from the theater. Alice told her it would be impolite to have her stay at a hotel when she could be staying with her, but Belinda informed her that would not be heading back to Paris.

“All the more reason to stay here.” She told Belinda. “You’ll be wasting your money.”

Belinda happily agreed to the arrangement. The morning after Alice got the guest room ready and Belinda came back with her things. While she helped her unpack, putting her clothes onto the bed and into draws, she noticed Belinda’s glove was slipping off, revealing scars.

“Belinda, what happened there?” She reached for her hand, but Belinda snatched it away.

“I’m sorry.” Belinda slowly took off the glove and showed the horrible scars on her hand, two fingers missing from the first joint and replaced with silver caps.

“My God.” She gently held her hand in hers. She looked at Belinda with such disbelief and horror. “What happened?”

“An accident with a fire, that’s all.”

“That’s all? Belinda, your hands!-”

“It happened a year ago.”

Alice couldn’t help but hold her close.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

It sounded like a selfish request, but Alice couldn’t bare the thought of her being hurt like that and she wasn’t there to help her.

“You stopped writing to me.” Belinda whispered.

“What?”

“You stopped writing to me.” she repeated.

“I sent you my last letter years ago.”

“I never received it.”

“No?”

“Must have been my manager. So glad to get rid of him, he made my life hell. So,what did you say in your letter?”

“Just wondering what going on in your life.”

They laughed the incident off and Alice hoped that maybe, with more time, she could try again.

“You still owe a private performance you know?” Belinda said slyly.