Two days later.
Lady Rebecca sat in her study. She was reading the headline about one of London's most fashionable beauties dying in a tragic fire, along with her trusted butler of many years.
I will always miss you Amna, she thought closing the newspaper.
Those words reminded her of something. She opened the top drawer of her table. And took out a small envelope. She quickly tore off the seal and took out a letter from inside. She adjusted her horn-rimmed reading glasses and began reading it:
Dear Rebecca,
Now that you are reading this letter. I must be dead. I want to share a secret with you. A deadly secret. And I wish for you to keep it with you until the day you die. I used to visit my Asian village. But not for ancestral reasons. I found something there. Something extraordinary. A medicine man needed money to send his son to London. His son was an artist like my dear Saif.
So I gave him the money his son required. In return, he handed me this large jar of face cream. But not just any ointment. It was an anti-aging cream. A real one. I put it on when I was eighteen years old. All my tiny pimples disappeared. Any cuts or bruises on my face would heal in a matter of seconds.
The other secret is about the portrait of me painted by Lord Saif. It is in my attic. It also had a wonderful effect when I put some of the magic cream onto its face. It came to life. What a majestic wonder.
But I was afraid that other people would find out. That the public would ask me how it happened. I did not want to give away the secret of my everlasting youth. The painting always wailed. It was always sad. It shared my opposite features. Whilst I was happy. It remained sad. Whilst I was to remain young forever. It could not speak so it cried out all the time. It seemed to age and had a strange type of skin disease. I had to kill Lord Saif to hide it. I am sure he is resting in Heaven now.
If you do not believe me. The proof is in the pudding. But in this case, a sachet I have placed inside the envelope, with this letter. Farewell best friend. I will always cherish our precious times spent together.
Yours faithfully,
Lady Amna Haider.
She placed the letter on the desk then reached inside the envelope. Her fingers felt a plastic material. She pulled it out, it was a sachet as the letter had mentioned, and inside it was a dark-brownish cream.
ns 15.158.61.18da2
