THE PRESENT: MARGARET’S OFFICE, PARLIAMENT
T he call came while Margaret was staring at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she was really as beautiful as she managed to fake.
“Margaret speaking.”
“It’s done,” Carolus answered.
“Are you sure?”
“We should celebrate,” he said. “She is the Real Alice. And she knows it. She is one of us.”
Margaret’s smile almost messed with her surgical beauty. She was advised against smiling too much and stretching out her Botox festival. But she couldn’t help it. This was the moment everyone in Black Chess had waited for. This was the moment the Queen would be forced to give her back what she had taken from her.
“Of course Alice is back,” she said. “One of us. No one can stop us from winning the war anymore.”
No one can stop me from taking what belongs to me.