𝑨 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴 𝑰𝑺 𝑨 𝑾𝑰𝑺𝑯 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑺

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝟑𝟗

NOTE: Double update because this chapter would've been 20 pages long otherwise, woohoo!

Delphina had seen his face before. In her aunt's room, when she had broken in to steal an extra blanket for a sick Dizzy. Anastasia's room was full of pictures, all of which seemed to be well-maintained, but this one was especially well-cared for. The frame glimmered, as if it had just received a fresh coat of polish, and it was placed in the center of Anastasia's dresser.

Delphina barely paid attention to the other pictures, but there was something about this one. She supposed it was the surprise of seeing all of the women in her family so young. Drizella was, at best, 10. Anastasia couldn't have been more than 8. Lady Tremaine was half her age, and that malicious glow in her eyes that Delphina had grown up was nowhere to be found. Even Lucifer was an innocent kitten, napping in Drizella's lap. He always did like her more.

And that man sat next to them, hand reaching into his suit jacket, as if he was the only one that wasn't ready for the family photo. That was the only picture Delphina had ever seen of him. Her knowledge of the man wasn't much better.

Anastasia had returned early from a day of shopping in the Isle markets and found a then-14-years-old Delphina in her room, blanket in hand and staring at the picture curiously. Delphina had noticed her aunt's presence a second too late and tensed, readying herself for a beating with whatever Anastasia could reach.

But the redheaded woman just followed Delphina's gaze, then strode further into the room, setting her bags down on her bed. She crossed the room and stood next to Delphina, who tensed at the close proximity. Anastasia didn't acknowledge the reaction. She stood next to her, staring at the picture silently. Delphina glanced up at her for a split second and caught a flash of fondness in her eyes.

"His name was Francis." She spoke softly, but Delphina had never been more caught off guard. She could count on one hand the amount of times she could remember Anastasia directly addressing her. "I was always closer to him than Drizella was. He died a few months after this picture was taken." Anastasia glanced down at Delphina, and Delphina's muscles tensed even more as she felt the woman studying her features. "You look like him sometimes. When you're happy." Anastasia's gaze moved down to the blanket that Delphina was clutching in a death grip. "He always hated that blanket, anyways. Do whatever you want with it."

With that, Anastasia turned and began to busy herself with something across the room. The message in the action was clear to Delphina; she was done talking. And Delphina had about five seconds to get the hell out of there with the blanket before Anastasia called her grandmother.

Since then, the image of Francis Tremaine had become a faded one. Not completely forgotten, but not important enough to warrant any deep remembrance.

And now, he was standing in front of Delphina, looking as if he had never passed away. Everything about him was exactly the same, as if he had been pulled directly from them photo.

"Oh, I'm going crazy. I'm going fucking crazy." Delphina breathed to herself, beginning to pace around the old room.

Still standing in the doorway, Francis sighed, biting back a laugh. "Honey, you're not–"

"You are dead!" Delphina interrupted, pointing at him harshly. "You have been dead for the past 30 years!" She insisted, more to herself than anything else. Francis remained in the doorway, watching his granddaughter with an amused, raised eyebrow.

"Indeed I have." He hummed, nodding his head slightly. Delphina hesitated, staring at him like he had grown two more heads.

"Then how the hell are you here? Alive? In this..." She hesitated, looking around the dusty, old room. "Random creepy mansion." She muttered, making Francis laugh fully.