Page 41 of The Six Murders of Daphne St Clair

ShockAndBlah:

How do you know she chose her?

PreyAllDay:

She could have had anyone. Why choose some random writer no one’s ever heard of?

BurntheBookBurnerz:

Maybe she doesn’t really respect men, doesn’t trust them to tell her story. They’re either aggressors or playthings to her.

CapoteParty:

I don’t think she respects anyone, really.

DAPHNE:At first, it was kind of fun, like pretending to be a housewife on TV. I’d wear heels to the grocery store. I bought a cookbook. There’d been so much pain in my life, I believed that I could scrub it clean, fill my soul with gleaming surfaces and fresh-cut flowers. I even tried to enjoy the fresh air between cigarettes.

RUTH:Okay, so you were in your tradwife era. What did your children think of Leosville?

DAPHNE:They loved it. They spent all their time playing outside in the orchard with their friends. I even bought them a dog named Ruffles. Seeing my son sitting on the back porch, whispering secrets with his arm around Ruffles almost made up for the occasional shoe full of piss. Almost.

RUTH:That’s cute. I would have liked to grow up somewhere like that. Big house in a small town. I would have liked to have a lot of friends living nearby too.

DAPHNE:Did you switch schools a lot?

RUTH:Yeah. I think I went to six or seven schools in twelve years. After a while, I just stopped trying to make friends. I just read a lot of books and kept my head down, waiting for college.

DAPHNE:You remind me of my granddaughter. Although I hope she does a bit better than you have! And just a tip, once you’re too old for Girl Scouts, you’re too old for a backpack!

RUTH:Wow, okay, rude. But I hope she does better too, even if now you’ve made her a little infamous.

DAPHNE:I think that could only help her, really. She can write a memoir about me someday, once I’m pushing daisies, a sensitive weepy one about our relationship.

RUTH:To be fair, I could do that too.

DAPHNE:Ah but you’d need a hook. You’d have to give them something the podcast doesn’t have.

RUTH:Well, maybe I’ll write something really explosive. I could dig up some more skeletons in your closet or prove you fed me a crock of lies.

[There is a pause where nobody speaks.]

DAPHNE:You’re not smart enough for that.

RUTH:I guess we’ll see. . . I’m sure people have underestimated you too, maybe even some of your victims. But enough distractions. The listeners will want to know about your life in Leosville. Did you make any friends in town?

DAPHNE:Not really. I tried to fit in. That’s all I ever seemed to do in Leosville. Try. But I just couldn’t do it. Every day was just like the one before, and not because it was non-stop fun. My errands were boring and the TV we watched was boring and the conversations I had with David were boring because really, what was there to talk about when I was wasting my best shoes on the fucking grocery store! You’d find that hard too, Ruth, if you owned any nice shoes.

RUTH:I. . .

DAPHNE:Please don’t interrupt my flow. Anyways, in Leosville, time seemed to just drag on, doubling and folding in on itself. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. In New York I had been a mom, sure, but that was only part of my fabulous life. In Leosville I couldonlybe a wife and mother. And at night I’d lie in bed and try to convince myself that I was happy. When I was poor, I would have killed for a life like this, to have a beautiful home and a kind husband with a fat wallet. But this little voice inside of me was whispering,Don’t waste your life here. If you had his money and your freedom, why you could do anything. . .

[EDIT: DO NOT INCLUDE IN PODCAST]

RUTH:In a strange way, I can relate. I’ve spent the last decade writing silly articles on the Internet, just so I could pay the rent. I would have killed to have enough money to really be able to pursue journalism.

DAPHNE:Killed?

RUTH:Okay, well no. . . Bad choice of words. I would havelovedto have—

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