Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Leila rushed forward, her voice laced with urgency. “Excuse me, are you Ruth Potter?” she asked. “I am Leila Nixon, the current president of the Turner Group. Can I please talk to you?”
Silence met her plea.
Leila knocked again, her knuckles rapping against the weathered wood. “I’m not here to cause any trouble,” she assured the girl. “I just need to ask you a few questions.”
A voice finally answered, cold and guarded.
“What’s wrong? Did Jenny make trouble for you again? And you want me to apologize to her again? I’ve repeatedly told everyone that I didn’t steal anyone’s designs. Yet, I was forced to take the blame and pressured into groveling and apologizing to Jenny just to appease her so-called anger. Plus, I’ve returned the money given to me. What more do you want from me? All I want is to live in peace. Just let me go for God’s sake!”
Leila’s jaw dropped. She had no clue about any of this. No wonder the director refused to join her in seeing the designer. If the designer was speaking the truth, then those at the Turner Group had really crossed a line.
Before coming here, Leila had done her homework. The designer, Ruth Potter, was undoubtedly talented, evident in her past work, including the pieces she’d made back in school.
Leila might not have been a jewelry designer, but she’d fixed up a ton of ancient jewelry. She knew her way around a necklace or a brooch. She could tell Ruth’s work had a signature style, a thread that ran through all her pieces.
Leila couldn’t shake the feeling that Ruth hadn’t plagiarized. There had to be more to the story-something hidden, something no one else had seen.
“Miss Potter, please,” Leila’s voice softened as she spoke through the door, “I don’t want to put you in a tough spot. If you let me in, I’ll do everything I can to understand what really happened that year. I know things aren’t always as they seem. Let me help you.”
But the silence on the other side of the door remained unbroken. Ruth wasn’t budging.
Leila sighed, racking her brain for another approach until an idea struck her. “I just saw your grandmother,” she said, her tone more urgent now.
“She doesn’t seem well, Ruth. I can’t imagine how hard these years must have been for you. If you let me in and tell me the truth, I’ll make sure she gets the medical care she needs. I don’t mind drawing up a contract to prove I am serious about helping your grandmother voluntarily. You don’t have to worry about the money.”
The seconds ticked by in agonizing silence. Then, finally, the door creaked open.
Tears streaked Ruth’s face as she glared at Leila, her voice trembling with distrust. “If you lie to me, I’ll make sure you regret it!” she blurted out, even though she knew how empty her threat sounded. Ruth had never been one to cower, but life had backed her into a corner. Her grandmother’s health was deteriorating, and with no way to earn money, she felt trapped.
The disgrace of the plagiarism incident had driven a wedge between Ruth and her family, turning her into a pariah among her relatives. If not for her grandmother’s kindness, she would have been entirely alone. Her grandmother had told her to stay in the village, promising that time would ease the pain and shame. But the years had only deepened the wounds.
Reflecting on the hardship she and her grandmother had endured, Ruth’s heart swelled with sadness, guilt, and a growing bitterness. Why did they never stop tormenting her?
Leila, sensing the depth of Ruth’s despair, stepped forward and handed her a bank card after entering the house.
“Use this to get your grandmother the medical attention she needs. Once the diagnosis is clear, I’ll arrange for the best specialists. Don’t worry. I’ll do everything I can to help her, as long as it’s not beyond hope.”
Ruth stared at the bank card in disbelief, Leila’s sudden gesture of generosity leaving her momentarily stunned. She looked up at Leila, confusion clouding her eyes before pushing the card back toward Leila. “I can’t take this, not now,” Ruth said, her voice filled with suspicion. “I don’t want to get trapped. I’ve had enough trouble in my life without adding more. You don’t need to waste your time on someone like me.”
Leila’s heart ached as she took in Ruth’s frail figure, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she followed Ruth further into the house.
Just then, a figure darted out from the shadows, wielding a broom.
Before Leila could react, the broom struck her a few times, catching her completely off guard.
Leila flinched and looked up to realize it was Ruth’s grandmother, Tilda Patterson, who had struck her.
The frail Tilda stood before Leila, brandishing the broom with trembling hands, trying to muster a fierce expression.
“Leave us alone! Don’t you dare hurt my granddaughter! Get out, or I swear, I’ll make you regret it!” Ruth’s stomach dropped as Leila’s expression turned unreadable, her face devoid of emotion. Panic welled up inside Ruth, and she quickly stepped in, shielding her grandmother.
“Miss Nixon, please forgive my grandmother; she didn’t mean any harm,” she blurted out, her words spilling over each other.
“So many people have come to make things difficult for me. Some even demanded I apologize to Jenny once again. My grandmother… she’s just terrified.”
Ruth’s voice cracked, the weight of her desperation clear. “I don’t need your money. Just don’t hurt us. You can leave, and we won’t bother you.”
Leila’s features softened as she recognized the fear in Ruth’s eyes. She offered a reassuring smile, trying to calm the situation. “I’m sorry if I seemed harsh. I wasn’t angry; I was just taken aback by the conditions here. But I meant what I said. I’m here to help, and I won’t leave until I’ve done that.”
Leila’s gaze shifted to Ruth’s grandmother, her concern deepening. “Your grandmother needs medical care immediately.”
Ruth tried to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. She turned to her grandmother, who was now wracked with a violent cough.
Tilda’s hand fluttered weakly, still trying to shield Ruth, but her strength was nearly gone. “Ruth, leave me alone. I don’t want their money; I just want you to live a good life,” Tilda said, her voice filled with emotion.
“You’re a college student, and that’s more than enough for me. I never had that chance. All I want is for you to have a better future.”
Hearing her grandmother’s words, Ruth’s resolve hardened. She looked Leila in the eye and nodded. “I’ll tell you everything,” Ruth said, her voice steady. “But you have to promise to help us financially.”
Tilda’s face flushed with anger, and she raised her hand as if to strike Ruth, but Leila stepped in quickly, speaking in a calm, soothing tone. “Your granddaughter is doing this to take care of you. Please, don’t worry; I’m here to help, not to hurt. You’re welcome to stay with us while we talk. If I do anything wrong, you can step in.”
Tilda’s shoulders sagged in defeat, her eyes filling with tears. She muttered to herself, scolding her own helplessness, her hands trembling as she hit her knees in frustration.
Leila didn’t press Ruth for answers right away. Instead, she gave them both time to settle, ensuring the atmosphere was calm before they started discussing the matter.
When Ruth finally felt ready, they settled into a quiet corner. Ruth gripped her cup of water, her fingers trembling as she started to reveal.
“I didn’t steal anyone’s work,” she whispered, her voice tight with emotion. “But somehow, Jenny came up with the same idea as my manuscript disappeared, and I have no clue who took it.”
Ruth paused, her breath hitching as she tried to hold back her frustration. “I’ve explained over and over, but no one believes me. Maybe it was just a bizarre coincidence, or maybe, as Jenny claims, I unintentionally mimicked her work after seeing it before. Our pieces are similar, yes, but I didn’t copy her. I can’t admit to something I didn’t do.”
Leila exhaled slowly, realizing the tangled mess Ruth was caught in. “So, it’s your refusal to confess to plagiarism that’s keeping them determined to bring you down.”
Ruth’s story was riddled with gaps, making it easy for others to point fingers. She had no solid evidence to clear her name, but she also couldn’t bring herself to admit to having plagiarized.
Leila’s instincts screamed that there was more beneath the surface. She leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Ruth, resolute in her quest to uncover the truth. “I can’t help you if you’re holding back. Are you really sure you don’t want to tell the truth?”
Leila’s tone was firm, her eyes scanning Ruth’s face for any sign of sincerity.
Ruth looked away, her voice barely audible. “I am telling the truth.”
Leila sighed, the weight of the conversation settling on her. She rose to her feet, her voice measured but distant. “If that’s how you feel, I’ll cover your grandmother’s medical expenses for now. But after that, it’s in your hands. You’ve chosen to stay silent and live with the consequences. That’s your decision.”
Ruth shot up, her face flushed with a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you know?” she retorted. “You don’t understand what my family has been through. How can you say that?”
Leila remained unfazed, her voice calm but resolute. “I don’t know your family’s situation, but I offered you my help-a chance to trust me. If you can’t take that step, I get it. But without trust, there’s nothing more I can do to help you. Do you see that?”
Ruth, anxious and desperate, hurried after Leila. “Is that it? You’re just going to give up?”
Leila paused, turning back to face Ruth, eyes sharp. “What’s the point in pushing further? You’re clearly set on keeping your silence. I can’t force the truth out of you, no matter what I offer or threaten. All I have is money, and that’s not enough to make you talk.”
Leila’s tone softened as she continued, “I know this might not be what you want to hear, but I need you to understand that I didn’t come here to mock you. I came because I saw the work you did back then. Seeing you now, with all your drive and ambition gone, it’s clear that the Ruth I admired is lost.”
Ruth stood frozen, her mind reeling from Leila’s words. She hadn’t expected Leila to say these things, and they hit her harder than she could have imagined. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she watched Leila begin to walk away.
For a moment, Ruth stood frozen in place, but then determination surged within her. She knew she couldn’t let this chance slip by.
With a burst of resolve, Ruth hurried after Leila, her awkward gait betraying her disability, but she didn’t care. She knew Leila was her last hope.
“Miss Nixon!” Ruth called out, her voice cracking.
Leila turned just in time to see Ruth drop to her knees. Shocked, Leila rushed to help Ruth up. “What are you doing? If you have something to say, just say it.” Ruth wiped away her tears, her vulnerability laid bare for the first time in years.
“You’re right. I’ve lost my ambition, and I’ve been stuck in this rut for so long. But I’m unwilling to give up. I didn’t plagiarize! How could they force me to take the blame for something I didn’t do? Why should I bear the pain?”
As Ruth’s words hung in the air, Leila felt the pieces of the puzzle click into place. She finally understood what Ruth had been through. There was a deeper reason behind Ruth’s actions; the truth was that Ruth and Jenny were half-sisters-a connection that was as painful as it was ironic.
Jenny’s mother was the legal wife, while Ruth’s mother was the other woman, unknowingly caught in a web of deception. When Ruth’s mother met Jenny’s father, Barth Patterson, she had no idea he was already married. She was deceived, and by the time she discovered the truth, she was already pregnant with Ruth.
Barth promised to divorce his wife and be with Ruth, but Ruth’s mother wanted no part in ruining the family. She tried to end their relationship, determined to break free.
But Barth refused to let Ruth’s mother go; he threatened to take his own life and even vowed to publicly shame her as a mistress if she left him. The threat was terrifying. If word got out, it would ruin her family’s reputation and cost her job.
Cornered and desperate, Ruth’s mother reluctantly agreed to stay, clinging to his promise of divorce. A year passed, Ruth was born, and the promised divorce never came. It became clear that Ruth’s mother had been deceived all along.