A maid was at at the door, telling Aaliyah she has a visitor. She knew who it was before the maid even said his name. She had known the second she heard his voice through the door. A hollow voice; nothing like the joy-filled voice she was used to.
And because of the wonderful day she just had, she was feeling just a bit lighter. And so, for the first time since her parents had died, she finally allowed him to speak to her,
Aaliyah took a shuddering breath trying to fight back the memories of that awful day. But she felt it again, the hot burning anger within her, the way she was filled with such blinding wrath at hearing his words.
“A-Aaliyah, my parents,” he paused, taking a shaky breath before he spoke again. “They're dead.” Those words seemed to have taken all the strength from him and he collapsed against the door, trying to stay upright.
His eyes closed, a tear slipped down his face and when he opened them again, they met cold, furious ones. Not the eyes of a friend, not the eyes of someone who cared. No, they were eyes filled with such loathing, such coldness that Aaliyah saw the bit of warmth in his eyes fade.
The file in her hands crumpled as she clenched her fists. She had to calm down. Had to do something—anything to get those memories to leave her. To get—she couldn't even think his name—him out of her head. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, trying to distract herself with—
He looked at her, pleading with her. “The investigators said…they said they had poisoned themselves.” He took a deep breath, “But I don’t believe them.” His eyes turned hard and his voice cold, “They were framed. Someone…someone wanted both of our parents dead.”
He had tried to apologize to her again. He had attempted to tell her how sorry he was about her parents. How his heart had broken seeing them there that night, on that white tablecloth.
But Aaliyah hadn't believed him. She thought his family planned it all, she was convinced he knew that her parents were going to die. Nothing could alter it. Everything he had said that storm-filled night sounded like manipulation.
Like lies.
The pain in her was consuming her. Furious at hearing that her parents wouldn't be given justice. That those cursed killers were no longer on earth. That neverending agony within her was all she knew in those moments.
She hadn't thought about all the times their families had spent together. Times of laughter and times of tears. Their love, their warmth, their support, and all the other memories were void to her.
Aaliyah could not breathe. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, her throat was tight. Her chest ached.
“I hate you.” She screamed at him, infusing all her fury and sorrow into those words. He took an unsteady step back as if her words caused the ground to shake underneath him. “Don’t become a monster,” his eyes were filled with such sorrow, “Please Liya. Don't let the darkness consume you.”
She tried to stop the memory. She clenched her hands so tightly she felt the biting pain of her nails digging into her palm. Yet it wouldn't stop.
“I wish you were dead,” she said quietly. Her voice was hollow, devoid of all life; the previous rage gone from it. They stared at each other. The silence between them filled with the sound of the howling wind, and the crash of thunder.
He closed his eyes, breaking the connection between them. He took a shaky breath before he opened them again. The light was gone from his eyes. Without another word, he turned away and left her room.
She jerked to her feet. Her chest heaved, as she tried to gulp in air, but the world wouldn't stop spinning. Her hands shook as she ran one down her face.
You're okay. Just breathe.
Putting her head on the wall next to the safe, she did the breathing techniques Alastor had taught her.
His soft brown eyes urged her to listen to his soothing voice. "Breath Aaliyah. You can do it, follow my lead. Take a breath with me...now exhale for one, two, three, four. Hold your breath, one, two, three, four. Then inhale, one, two, three, four. Hold breath, one, two, three, four. Now repeat with me again."
The tensions in her body slowly loosened and her chest stopped beating so fast. Aaliyah took another deep breath. She then let out a long exhale before she opened her eyes; her gaze fell on the inside of the safe.
Before she could even process what she was doing, her hand shot into it. Her fingers brushed upon the small slip of paper she found.
How did I miss this?
She unfolded the paper and saw it was a note. Her eyes read the first part of it.
Not all is as it seems.
That was entirely ambiguous, she thought. Though the note was probably meant for someone el—the pain and the murder, it runs deeper than you think.
Her body stilled at reading those words. She couldn’t shake the feeling as if they were written for her. And if it was, it would be the second note she received that night.
The penmanship seemed familiar as well, like the other note she had found in her pocket. Only this time, the note wasn’t talking about flowers. And if the note was meant for her then…
It must be talking about my parent's murder.
The note didn't have to remind her about the pain she felt. Aaliyah knew just how deep the pain ran. How it left her clutching her suffocated throat, hardly being able to breathe. Her body would shake uncontrollably. The seemingly never-ending tears would run down her face.
She willed her mind to stop thinking about those feelings. Instead, she focused on reading the last part of the note. Her hand flew to her mouth upon reading the final three words.
Find Bernard Wickens.
It was a command and a name, a name she was all too familiar with. Her mind raced. She didn’t understand what Mr. Wickens's involvement could be.
He wasn’t even there at Alastor’s celebration. Benard had called in that day. He told her parents he wouldn’t be able to come to work because of personal matters.
The investigators already questioned him. He had a solid alibi. And besides, Aaliyah had known Benard personally. He had worked for her family for eleven years. But if the note was implying he was invovled with the murder...
She was going to find him. And when she does,
Benard better pray he isn’t tangled up in the mess.
Comments (0)
See all