"Your wife?" She taunted.
"Aren't you just a player, my dear Oly? Why did it have to be Howel of all people?"
"Now you'll see her die slowly by slowly before you today!" She threatened him.
"Get up, faster!" Olivia commanded Howel, still holding her at gunpoint.
They both stood up from the dusty ground.
She lowered the gun but held it firmly in her hand.
She walked over to the portrait that was covered in white cloth on the wall. She pulled the cloth as more dust flew through the air; making them sneeze frantically.
"Ma!" Howel put her hands over her mouth.
"Don't you dare call her that!"
"What do you mean? I'm her daughter!"
"The hell you are Howy!"
"Believe me. I'm telling the truth."
"You left her here to die! Do you see that place?" She was pointing near the corner where Howel hid,
"She passed away... two years ago, on such a day… in my very arms... because of you! Because of you Howel." Oliva was weeping.
"That very day you came...I pleaded with you to help her, but what did you do? You walked away, you never even came back, not even to ask about her! Did you even know she is dead? Yet you still have the nerve to call her your mother!"
Oliva stared blankly at them; he was confused.
"Iss... Issabelle...?" Howel was stammering.
"Impossible!" Oliva voiced, his pain seized for a second.
Howel stared steadfastly at Olivia and she stared back.
There was a lot of hatred in her eyes. There was no flinching, no blinking. Only bullets of hate from Olivia's to Howel's eyes and Howel's to Olivia's eyes. If their eyes were machine guns, they'd have riddled each other with thousands of bullets.
"B...but... you ca... can still for... give..." Oliva wasn't done speaking when Olivia interrupted him.
"Shut up you ungrateful scoundrel!"
"The seventh of July two thousand and seven, does it ring a bell?"
She turned to him holding the pistol to his head.
His leg was bloody and swollen but he managed to stand because his life was at stake.
There was fear in his eyes, and one big word written all over his face; agony. He must have been suffering terribly.
"Does it ring a bell?" The latter had nothing to say.
He just stood there like a dummy, suffering and shuddering in the cold chilly breeze that swept into the cabin.
His teeth were chattering with fright. He was losing a lot of blood. Olivia didn't care. He could lose all the blood in his body for as much as she cared.
She would love to see his dead body beside Howel's. Olivia was getting impatient. Her manner was agitated. Somebody was wasting her precious time. All this while, Howel stood still; transfixed to the ground, trying to get a full comprehension of what was going on.
Olivia repeated the question slowly but threateningly; close to his left ear, "Seventh of July two thousand and seven. Does this ring a bell in your head?" Still, he didn't respond, and Olivia hit his hurt thigh with the back of her pistol.
"Ow! Ow!" He whined like a dog and fell to the ground. Howel rushed to support him.
"What a pity Howel! Is this the reprobate you married?" She mocked her.
"How stupid I was to wait for you on that day Oly. You never showed up! You canceled our wedding a day before the material day! Was I not pretty enough? Even after you'd spent 90% of my money in your own way, I never complained! Yet, you still canceled the wedding... But that was good... yes it was. I wouldn't want to spend my life with a scumbag like you. Howel deserves you more. You are destined for each other; two scoundrels!"
Howel stared furiously at Olivia.
"That was what… like five, six years ago!"
"Damn you Oliver!" She kicked his thigh with her boots and he scowled on the ground writhing in severe pain. "And do you know what hurt me the most? You didn't even say goodbye!"