Bella. From Latin, Meaning 'Beautiful'.

Carmela walked into the library to meet her mother’s group, unaffected by the apprehension she was certain all the other women would be feeling.

While other mothers got upset at old ladies poking their heads inside their prams, Carmela reveled in it. She would stand back, allowing them to admire her daughter. Waiting for them to tell her what she already knew. That her child was beautiful. Her eyes were wide and alert - two green moons gently marbled with copper and gold - in perfect contrast with her silky shock of dark hair. Her olive skin was perfectly soft and unblemished, and her rounded nose, full lips and cherubic cheeks were as if an artist had brought her to life. But it was Carmela who had done it, she had grown Bella. Yes, Vincent had contributed somewhat, with his handsome features and thick black hair, but Carmela had chosen him to be her husband, had she not? The way Carmela saw it, Bella’s beauty was an accomplishment she could truly take full credit for.

Carmela looked around at the women around her. She noticed all their envious glances, could almost hear their thoughts. Wishing they could be half the mother Carmela was. Wishing their babies were as lovely and good as her sweet Bella. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, their faces drained and puffy, a decade older in a matter of weeks. Their obsessive worrying over whether they would be any good at this motherhood thing. Carmela wasn’t concerned about that. She was made for this. She was the image of a perfect mother. She had her perfect baby, the daughter she had always dreamed of. Her beautiful Bella.

***

Carmela brushed her daughter’s hair. It was long and sleek, just the way Carmela liked it. “Bella, my beautiful Bella,” she whispered, “You were born to be beautiful.” Slowly, carefully, she separated the hair into two sections, then each of those into a further three. She marveled at the softness as she braided each side.

“Are you finished Mama?” asked Bella. She squirmed as her mother pulled at her hair, taking her time to fix every strand into place.

“Almost Bella, just wait!” Carmela replied. “I haven’t done your ribbons. They match so beautifully with your eyes.”

“But Mama, I’m going to be late for school again.”

“School can wait,” Carmela said, “they won’t mind.” She knew that school didn’t really matter that much for Bella anyway. The endearing beauty her daughter had possessed as a baby was now maturing, and wherever they went, people couldn’t help but stare at her. Carmela basked in the glow of it all. She heard their hushed admiration. She saw their jealous eyes. “The world is your oyster, Bella,” she would say. “The world loves people like you.”

***

Carmela’s voice bristled with concern as she addressed the doctor. “What can you do to help her?”

“At this stage, there’s nothing we can do.” Dr Graham answered, her voice measured and comforting, as if she’d said these words a thousand times before to desperate parents. “This is quite normal for Bella’s age and really nothing to be concerned about, I assure you.”

Carmela’s face hardened. “This might be normal for other people, but I assure you, it is not normal for Bella.”

Dr Graham turned her attention to Bella. “Bella,” she said, “how do you feel about all of this?”

Bella shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” she replied, “I just want them to go away, I just -”

“You heard her!” interrupted Carmela, “Do something! Do your job and fix this!”

“Bella has a very mild case of hormonal acne,” Dr Graham explained. “Spot treatment with tea tree oil is all that is necessary. The risks of starting any sort of medication far outweigh the benefits at this stage.” She added a note to her file. “If it gets worse, and by worse, I mean, inflamed, infected, much more widespread, then come back and we can review things.”

“Worse than this? We can’t afford for it to get any worse!” Carmela’s voice was approaching a shriek. “What will people think? What are they already thinking? No. This is unacceptable.”

“I’m sorry Carmela. There is nothing I can do,” said Dr Graham. “Like I said, this is all very, very normal.”

Carmela stood up, pulling her daughter with her. “Don’t worry Bella, we’ll find another doctor. We can’t risk your beautiful face with this reckless idiot.”

***

Carmela looked up from her magazine, startled at the look of disorientation etched into her daughter’s face. Bella had come over to collect some documents needed for her passport application, and she was now standing in Carmela’s living room, holding a photo in her trembling hand. Carmela instantly knew what Bella had found. Her heart quickened for no more than three beats before she steadied herself. “What’s wrong my darling?”

“I found this photo in Dad’s drawer,” Bella replied unsteadily. “Who is she?”

“How would I know?”

“She looks like me, Mama. Her eyes are the same green as mine... and her hair...”

Carmela averted her eyes, not allowing herself to look at the photo, trying to maintain her poise. “Bella! What on earth are you talking about?”

“Look! Just look at her! She looks so much like me!” Bella thrust the photo in Carmela’s face.

Flinching, Carmela attempted to cajole her daughter. “Bella, calm down, don’t be ridiculous. She looks nothing like you.” She didn’t need to look at the photo to recall the image of the girl’s face. The deformities had been operated on, lessened. But they were still there in the asymmetry, the odd ridges of the cheekbones, the deep scarring.

“Why won’t you tell me who she is?” Bella was insistent. “Dad wouldn’t have this photo in his drawer for no reason!”

Carmela knew she wasn’t going to get away with feigning ignorance for much longer. She steeled herself, inwardly cursing her husband for keeping the photo. Stupid man. She had told him to get rid of it, told him that it had no place in their home. “Oh Bella, I didn’t want you to find out this way.” In fact, Carmela had never wanted her daughter to find out at all. She searched her daughter’s troubled face, looking for clues as to how she might react to the news she was about to deliver. “Your father has another daughter. I’m so sorry. He should have told you.”

Bella’s voice caught on her breath. “What? Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your father thought it was for the best. He didn’t want to complicate things.”

“For the best? I have a sister, and you thought it was better that I didn’t know?”

“Why would you need to know about her?”

Bella observed her mother’s impassive face in disbelief. “Mama! Are you serious? She’s my sister!”

Carmela flinched. “She’s your half-sister.”

“Half-sister. Whatever. How long have you known?”

“I don’t know Bella, a while.”

“A while? How long? How old is she?”

“I don’t know, Bella. Around the same age as you.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t know.” Carmela was becoming frustrated with this barrage of questions.

“You don’t know her name?”

“No Bella, I don’t know her name.”

“How can you not know her name?”

“I just don’t. It’s not important.” Carmela’s response was final. Taking back control of the conversation, she continued, “I know it’s a shock. Your father had an affair. It was quite awful for me.” Carmela twisted her face into a semblance of wounded pride.

Bella was not sympathetic. “I couldn’t care less if Dad cheated on you 30 years ago! I care that I have a sister, sorry half-sister, out there who nobody thought to tell me about!”

“Bella, my beautiful Bella,” Carmela tried to soothe her seething daughter. “Look at this photo. You are so different. Why would you have ever needed to know about her?”

“Mama! I… she… what are you saying?”

“Her face, Bella. Can’t you see? Her face.” Carmela stabbed at the photo with a hostile finger. “It’s deformed. It’s not beautiful like yours.” She reached up to stroke her daughter’s cheek.

Bella pulled away as if she had been burnt. “Don’t touch me.”

Taken aback by her daughter’s reaction, Carmela froze. Too late, she heard Vincent’s car coming to a stop in the driveway. Too late, as Bella had already reached the door. A butterfly of dread took flight in her stomach.

“Dad! Why didn’t you tell me! How could you?” The full force of Bella’s shock was being unleashed on her father.

“Woah! Hello to you too.” Vincent examined his daughter’s face with concern. “Tell you about what? What’s wrong Bella?”

“Your other daughter!” Bella held up the photo, revealing to her father the thing that had started this whole unraveling.

Vincent’s face blanched. “You found out.”

“Yes, I found out! I have a half-sister you never told me about!”

“Half-sister?” Vincent glanced with confusion at Carmela who had joined them in the hallway. She met his gaze with a dark stare.

“Mama told me about your affair.” Bella’s voice scorched with accusation.

“Affair?” Vincent turned to face his wife. “What have you told her?”

Carmela interjected. “Stop, Vincent.”

“Bella. I did not have an affair.” Vincent spoke slowly, firmly.

“Vincent! Stop this at once I said!” Carmela’s voice had taken on a shrill tone of panic.

Vincent did not stop. “The girl in that photo is not your half-sister.”

Carmela let out a rasping scream as she lunged towards her daughter, grasping her face in her quivering hands. “Do not listen to your father. Do not listen to him!” Her fingernails dug into the sides of her daughter’s cheeks, but Bella twisted free.

Vincent guided Bella by the shoulders, making space to stand between his wife and his daughter. “That girl is your twin sister,” Vincent explained, his voice was hushed.

Carmela glared at her husband, incredulous and scorned. “Vincent, stop lying to our daughter.” Carmela’s tone was icy.

Vincent ignored her. “You have a twin sister, Bella.” His face collapsed under the weight of his confession. “She was born just a few minutes after you. When we saw her, we didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know what to think.”

“I knew what to think! I was horrified!” Carmela clapped her hands over her mouth. Realising her admission, she turned to her daughter and pleaded with every cell in her body. “Bella, you have to understand. There was something terribly wrong with her. With her face.” She recoiled at the memory. “We left her at the hospital. We just kept you, Bella. You were so perfect and beautiful, we wanted to give you the best life we possibly could.”

Bella’s entire body heaved at the betrayal. “So you just abandoned her? Your daughter?”

Vincent’s face was awash with despair. “We were in shock, Bella. We didn’t know how we could manage. We were young, we were so young.”

“How did you get this photo if you left her when she was a baby?” Bella addressed her father.

“She reached out to us a few years ago, Bella,” Vincent said.

“Does she know about me?”

“No, she doesn’t.” Carmela’s response was emotionless. “She never will. We told her to leave us alone, that we didn’t want anything to do with her. We told her to never contact us again.”

Bella looked like she might shatter into a million beautiful pieces.

“She was deformed, Bella,” Carmela insisted. “Her face! It was completely deformed! How can you possibly hide something like that?”

***

Carmela walked to the front door of her parents’ house, her finger hovering reluctantly over the doorbell. She didn’t know why she was there, but she didn’t know where else to go. Bella was refusing to speak to her. And she could barely look at Vincent, with all his guilt and sadness and regret seeping out of him. She just could not abide it. Defeated, she pressed down on the buzzer.

Her mother answered the door. “Carmela! You look dreadful, have you seen yourself?”

“Mama. She found out. Bella knows about her sister.”

“And so?” Her mother’s response was cold and unflinching. “It was for the best. What would everyone have thought? What would they have said?”

“I know, I know! I thought Bella would understand. What else could we have done?” Carmela’s voice shook with indignation. “But she is so angry with me Mama. I’m scared she’ll never forgive me.”

“She’ll come around Carmela, she’ll realise you did it for her. You did what you had to do.”

“I hope so, Mama,” but Carmela’s face was wrought with fear. “I don’t know how I would survive if I never saw my beautiful Bella again.”