Chasing Down Secrets (4 page)

“This way,” She murmurs almost inaudibly while leading us to the corner of the room. She moves the rug aside and reveals a secret door. “It’ll lead to Christophe’s father’s home. Don’t stop for anything.”

Quickly, we climb down the ladder. Once the door is shut Emmett lights the lantern. Everything is silent.

“Let’s go.” He says solemnly.

The farther we go, the colder it gets, it is almost night I assume.

“Are we almost there? My feet hurt. We’ve been walking all day.” I complain.

“There’s a light up ahead.” He responds, pointing forward. The closer it comes the more I have to fight the urge to run to it. The light is tied to a ladder. Emmett goes up first, knocking on the door above his head. It is wrenched open and a kind old face, much like Christophe’s, appears.

“Well, hurry up. I haven’t all night.” The man huffs while stepping aside for Emmett and me to climb up. “Sorry if I don’t seem happy to see you. If it were up to me the soldiers would be here to take you this minute.”

“Well, it isn’t.” Emmett says rather harshly.

“Emmett, calm down.” I whisper soothingly, my fingers touching his upper arm. He pulls away and leaves the room.

“I’m going to my son’s home. You two better not be here when I get back.” The stern man speaks.

“When will that be exactly?” I ask cautiously.

“Three days.” With that he walks out of the library and I hear the distant slamming of the front door.

Em, he’s gone.” I call down the hallway. A tall silhouette makes its way back to me.

“I’m sorry I snapped. He’s like a grandfather to me and I know what he thinks of all this; of you.” There is a touch of sadness in his magnificent blue eyes.

“It’s alright. Try not to be so tense. We have three days before we have to leave.” I smile wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Is that an order?” He smiles back picking me up bridal style.

“Where are we going?” I question as he carries me down a dark hallway.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He jokes as we enter the bedroom.

Emmett drops me carelessly on the bed before laying down next to me. We stare at the blank ceiling for a while not saying a word. I look at him as he looks up. He is so good and pure. And he chose me. He could have any one, be anywhere. But he chose to be here with me.

“You’re staring at me because?” He asks softly meeting my gaze.

“Tell me you love me.” I whisper closing my eyes.

“I love you.” He whispers back.

“I love you, too.” I chuckle.

“Good.” He says leaning in and pecking me on the lips. It is quick but my mouth continues to tingle like it does every time our lips meet. I open my eyes but he is staring back up at the ceiling.

“Do you think we’ll be able to get away from this and get married someday?” I ask hesitantly, I’ve been wondering this for a while now but have been too scared to say it.

“Of course, why are talking about this?”

“Why not? Who knows what will happen.” I say gently, getting slightly offended.

“What’s bothering you?”

“No, it’s nothing. I’m just worried about the future.” I sigh.

“Don’t be.” Emmett reaches out and takes my hand.

All I do is nod, my hand pulls away from his and I turn onto my side. This house seems so familiar, I don’t know why. It’s like I’ve been here before.

“I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom.” I say quietly slipping out of the room. I don’t know where I am going, and I don’t know why but soon I am in front of a grand staircase. On the side there is a door. My mind races with images of my childhood. Slowly, I open the door to see the same piece of jagged wood that gave me my scar.

“This can’t be possible.” I murmur.

“Maria, where are you? The bathrooms over here,” Emmett calls. Tears well up in my eyes, I try to stop the images of my mothers murder from coming but I can’t. Her screams echo in my ears causing one to leave my lips. I fall to my knees, tears pouring out.

“Maria! Maria! What’s wrong? What happened?” Emmett’s voice grows closer but I can’t see him. My eyes are shut so tight in an attempt to stop the flood of tears. It doesn’t work.

“Please! We aren’t what you think! Please! Maria!”

My mothers’ feeble attempts to save us sound out in my mind. I scream again, clutching my ears.

“Make it stop! Please make it stop!” I cry out in agony.

“
Please!”

Her voice mimics my own. Emmett grabs my arm and helps me up. My sobs continue until I fall back to the ground gasping for air. Everything goes black after a while.

I don’t remember moving but when I wake I am in a soft bed with faces looking at me.

“You said you’d be gone by now.” Mr. Cavell says.

“She’s been unconscious for three days. I don’t know what happened. She was fine one minute and the next she was sobbing uncontrollably.”

“It was just her nerves. Whatever was bothering her finally surfaced and she didn’t know how to deal with it. Her subconscious is probably trying to. Which is why she still isn’t up,” A young woman speaks.

“Emmett,” I say feebly. His face lights up as he walks closer.

“Maria! Thank heavens you’re all right. What happened?” He says quickly, but I ignore him.

“Mr. Cavell, how long have you owned this house?”

“About five years, the owners disappeared one day. No ones heard from them since. It was a girl and her mother, I believe, why?”

“What happened to them, sir?” I ask hesitantly.

“They died, I think, the mother did, the girl was never found.” He says thoughtfully as though he’s never given it a thought.

I have never been found, obviously, I was taken. I have so many memories here, most of which I want to forget. But I know I can’t, not if I want to find out why my mother had tried to hide me. And I did want to know, more than anything.

“Thank you, sir.” I say absentmindedly. He leaves with a solemn look on his face and Emmett takes it as his opportunity to get answers.

“I know what you’re going to say, but I can’t answer you. Not yet. I need time.” I look around the room that my family used to own. There is so much history.
My
history. I am going to go through it all. Maybe then I’ll find some answers. All I know is that my father had given my mom this house to keep her quiet. He didn’t want me. This used to be his home.

“I can’t leave.” I murmur softly to myself.

“We have to Mr. Cavell doesn’t want us here. Please talk to

me.” Emmett pleads.

“Then Mr. Cavell can leave. And I can’t, Em, not now; I don’t even understand it myself.” My words start off harsh but then I notice his face.

“What happened?” Emmett’s eyes beg for answers, “you can tell me.”

“I know I
can
tell, but I don’t
want
to tell you, okay? Please respect that.” I say cruelly.

“Fine, dinner will be ready soon.” He spits bitterly before exiting the room.

It all looks so familiar now, except the bookshelf. It is empty now aside from one book. It’s all dusty, like it hasn’t been touched in years. Slowly, I stand from the bed. My muscles cry in pain for they had been still for a few days. The book has a black leather binding and once I have blown the dust, which created a thick cloud causing me to cough, I notice gold lettering on the spine, gold letters that spell out my name. When I open the book a clutter of letters fall out. Bending down to pick them up I notice they are all addressed to me. None have been open and their once white envelopes are now stained yellow from age. I collect them all and go back to the bed to read them until I think of something. My mother had hidden these from me.

Chapter Five:

My dearest daughter,

I am sorry for my absence. I want to be there for you, I do. It’s your mother who thinks that it isn’t best. I want to know you, and I am sorry that I can’t. Just because I cannot be there doesn’t mean that I don’t love you or your mother. I do love your mother but she has changed. But don’t go thinking poorly of her, she is very bright and strong. She loves you more than anything, which is why I’m listening to her by not seeing you, but I want to. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.

With Love,

Your father

I sit completely awestruck on the ancient bedding. These letters are all from him, my father. He did want me. That means my mother lied to me. Everything she has ever said was a lie, from the very beginning. I hesitate, my pale hand hovering over the second letter before tearing it open.

Dear Maria,

Today you’re six, happy birthday, baby girl. I wish I could see you. I imagine you have your mothers beautiful blue eyes. Maybe you didn’t. But that is how I imagine you. That way I can see both of you. I looked forward to meeting you, again.

With all my love,

Father

Tears form in my eyes, she hid these from me. She hid my father from me, but why? My vision starts to blur as I reach for the next letter.

“Maria, what are you doing?” Emmett asks showing up in the doorway.

“Emmett, I was just, I’m sorry.” I say hastily not knowing how to explain.

“Those aren’t yours to go through.” Emmett says accusingly trying to take the letters from me.

“Yes, they are!” I shout pulling them away from him, “they’re addressed to me, see!” I say pointing to my name on the slightly yellow envelopes.

“Who’d be writing to you? I don’t mean it like that I just mean you’ve been gone for five years.” He says looking over my shoulder and reading the third letter.

Sweet Maria,

I wish you’d write back. It’s been a while since I wrote you last. Your mother told me to leave you alone, and I tried. For four years. But now you are ten and I don’t want to miss anymore of your life. I’m hoping you’ll read this, not that I deserve you to, but I hope you will. I love you.

Forever and always,

Father

I try not to move as I wait for him to leave, but he stands motionless. I know he is going to say something but I want him to go away, except, he doesn’t.

“I thought your father was dead.” He speaks calmly. I know he is expecting answers, but I don’t have any. I am just as much in the dark on this one.

“No, I said he’s dead for all I care. I never met him, he left or I thought he did, anyway,” I muse.

“If he left why would he send these letters?” He asks.

“You think I know? My mother told me he gave her this house to keep her from contacting him. She said he didn’t want me.” I shout the tears now uncontainable.

“What do you mean this house?” As soon as he says that I know I messed up. Now I
have
to tell him.

“This used to be my house; I recognized it when I saw the closet under the stairs. That’s where they killed her. And where I got this,” I say pulling up my shirt to reveal my pink scar, ugly and miss-placed on my porcelain skin. His eyes grow larger as he takes in my little imperfection; I drop the cloth and look away from him. My cheeks redden as embarrassment consumes me. I feel exposed and fragile, like I really am made of porcelain. I have never told anyone about that day. Not even Emmett.

“Where they killed who?” He says forcefully.

“My mother,” I wail, having no idea why this got me so upset, she had lied to me. I don’t care about her anymore. I can’t. I don’t need to say anymore before Emmett engulfs me into a hug, I grasp onto him tightly to ensure he won’t let go.