“Balance, Balance”,
I had terrible balance and seeing as I could barley walk in flip-flops I wasn’t doing all together well in the heavy layers of tulle.
“. . .And down”,
I had spent literally all morning and afternoon learning to walk, balance and serve in the peach dress I was starting to hate, I had somehow already managed to tear a hole in my stockings while tripping over myself.
October 31st had arrived quicker than I expected and I had found myself enjoying the few days I had spent in Bordeaux. Mr. Fierro seemed to have run out of ways to keep me busy, so I was left to explore the city alone.
There were museums, bookstores, and even movies. Sometimes Emile accompanied me but he was excited about the book and I was beginning to be fine on my own It seemed everything in the city was a distraction. Although when I sometimes past Victor in the halls his smile seemed distracting enough.
The obscure white columbina brillantini masques we were to wear are heavily decorated and fit snug over each girls face, leaving only the lips exposed. Heavy silk ribbons tied around to secure the masques in place. I tried not to wince as Millie pulled my tighter around my head.
Looking around the room we all looked nameless and faceless, we were caked in sparkly make up and bright lip color. Although slightly intriguing it was kind of spooky ? Like the Venetian festivals I had attended with Peter.
The skies had already began to darken and I could hear the masked guests outside of the ballroom, this was our our final rehearsal.
“Into the back, ladies”, 
s slightly pointed to resemble a cat.
We held onto each other’s hands to keep our line and headed back. Behind the curtain a few girls peeked out wanting to get a glimpse of the Victor and the other guest.
Tonight I could be anyone but myself.
I heard the low sounds of the orchestra began to play Canon in D, and the Hallow’s Eve Masquerade began. My fingers itched to join the orchestra but I grabbed my tray which was now filled with raspberry-champagne and followed in line as the once empty ball room was filled with colorful masked figures.
Everyone was fantastically overdressed in tuxes and ball gowns, I hadn’t expected it to be quite so crowded. Hands and arms started reaching for me as they grabbed drinks off my tray; laughing and flirting as they did so.
I wish I could have just sat back and watched as couples paired off and began twirling on the dance floor. No one seemed at all concerned about acting human or that they were dead, they were just having a good time.
“You. Come here”
“Take these to Victor’s table”, she instructed placing a reserved card on the tray.
“Yes, ma’am”, I whispered and slid my way through the crowd to where the King was sitting.
Victor was at a table with 8 people guarded by his unmasked security guards, I could make out his blonde hair under from his mask, which was similar to his sister’s it was covered in feathers and painted in orange and black. He was seated with a blonde girl who I recognized as Melanie from the dress shop. She has her arms around Victor and was wearing the pink dress.
I set the tray on the table and distributed the drinks starting from the left, like I was told. My inability to walk in the dress proved to be amusing to the guards, Once I was finished I did a little curtsy as instructed but was interrupted by Melanie
“I’d like one with a strawberry”, squeaked Melanie handing me her glass back, “a ripe one.”
I nodded and went back to get her another glass, Discreetly drinking her discarded one. I couldn’t help but to be jealous of how much attention Victor seemed to be giving her. Or rather she was giving him.
Not that I was ever that kind of girl. I was more sensible.
Returning to the table I took up the empty glasses and anything else that littered the table.
I jumped
A little
There was the unmistakable touch of someone’s hand on my leg, a finger circling where there was a hole in my white hold-ups.
I bit my lip slightly as the touch of skin against skin
faded.
I quickly gathered everything and headed towards the back to dispose of the used glasses.
+2+
“You’ve been on your feet to long, Clara”, I said to myself and leaned against the wall in the empty backroom.
It wasn’t long before
“Here”, she said carrying one of the mini chocolate fountains, “Refill this”
I looked at the giant bags of chocolate melts on the floor
and began scoping them into the warm machine. It was better than carrying a
tray. I watched the little fountain brim and spill over into a shiny waterfall.
I started to remove my
masque when I felt someone’s arm around my waist, holding my hands gently
in front of me. Clenching my teeth I was momentarily paralyzed. My body was pressed against the stranger's chest
My senses were overwhelmed by the strong smell of afternoon roses and champagne. I looked down at the black gloved hands and imagined the deathly white skin that lay underneath.
He turned me around just as he removed the onyx and gold
masque that concealed his identity that
only a masque and gloves could hide.I was taken aback by the softness in his
eyes as his finger traced the outline of the mask, across my cheek resting on my lips.
Reaching past me, as if to press me against the wall but I knew it was to far away. He carefully ran his thumb across my lips and slid it carefully into my mouth.
The sweet taste of chocolate and orange across my tongue
sent a cold shiver through my body. I closed my eyes as he gradually removed it.
The mirror on the opposite wall revealed a strange scene, the face glitter and white mask was luminous in the light, only if I blinked could I really be sure it was my reflection, and even then not really. I looked back at myself in the mirror and back at his eyes
Mr. Fierro didn’t recognize me.
I didn’t recognize me
I opened my mouth to speak when I felt his lips on my neck. He placed tepid kisses along my neck and covered arm, then back up again. I felt like I was being shocked, my skin tingled.
He whispered a question I could not hear, not that I would answer My silence held my secret.
There was a dissonance from the Clara I was and the girl I saw in the mirror, and I wanted his lips to touch me again.
I felt his hand weave into mine, I grasped it felt safe and secure.
Faster than I could keep up I followed him out the back door the only sound was the dull sound of shoes against pavement. My dress dragged on the ground of the halls as we continued up the dark staircase, tripping every step or two. It all seemed surreal, even the touch of a hand in mine. It didn’t seem right.
The familiar suite, now appeared strange and out of place.. I stopped short of the entrance, he turned back towards me. Removing my hand from his I placed my hands around his neck, pulling the gold and black ribbons as his hair fell around my fingertips.
Pale blue cloudy eyes seemed to be searching for an expression beneath my hidden identity and perhaps it was the dim hallway but in reality he was a uniquely handsome man, for the first time my lips touched the smooth surface of his skin, lingering before I was pulled further into the room.
My shoes reacted to the tile of the shower room first. I looked up as the water began to cascade down, ruining the layers of glitter and rouges into a stream down my neck. Like a quenching a thirst I didn't have, It was then that he stepped in to leave a light kiss along my shoulder.
I let out a slow breath as his hands wandered past my waist, stopping around to the font lifting the hem of the dress.
The touch of his hands continuing under my dress, stopping just at my waist. I fell back as the delicate and dangerous tulle was ripped, the fabric tore easily.
As each torn piece of tulle fell the dress became lighter, exposing more of my legs. I could feel the warm water falling into my eyes and trickling my throat, leading further to the dresses demise.
In return I pulled apart the buttons on his vest, pushing the thick silk fabric over his shoulders, His lips never leaving contact with my neck as my fingertips pressed along the sliver of white skin showed beneath the linen shirt. I traced it with my hand and carefully my lips played along the surface of his wet skin.
The water stopped falling, my partially obstructed view did
little to level the intensity as he looked down at me. Kissing my hand I
trailed down the hall, the dark unused bedroom was infused with that same sweet
scent.
In the dark my foot tapped against a large book on the floor
causing me to tumbled on to the soft bedding. The masque tilted a bit but stayed in place.
Carefully he kissed my ankle, watching me as if I had something to be frightened of. Like a predator and it’s prey. I held my breath as he continued down my calf and stopped.
The tip of his nose skimmed over my damp skirts, stomach and neck, warm breath drying my skin. I opened my eyes suddenly aware of how close our bodies were.
I ran my hands through his hair, closing the space between
us the tip of his tongue pressed quickly against my closed lips.
“Take off your masque”
I listened but did not obey, pulling at the buttons on his shirt.
His hands crawl up the back of my neck and the silk
ribbons began to loosen, I did little to stop it ; the knots came apart easily
against his fingers. I didn’t close my eyes as the cool air touched my face and the masque fell to the floor.
I opened my eyes.
Pain, sorrow, regret, remorse and anger.
Mostly anger.
“Stupid, girl”, he spat at me.
I shook a strand of hair out of my face, when would he take off his masque ?
“Foolish man”
“Get out”, her ordered turning the lights on and walking out of the room, somewhere I heard a door slam twice.
I didn’t move, ashamed that the thought of my now certainly lost piano ran through my mind.
The ground was cold and rough underneath my feet. He had waited for me by the door I was suddenly swallowing the pride I didn’t think I had. One toe tipped at the threshold.
“What have I ever done to you ?”, I asked. Shaking from the cold air.
He looked at me, searching for a word he didn’t often use.
“Please”
“Yes.”, I kissed the side of his face, he closed his eyes as if in pain, “sir”
The wall was crumbling.
+++
I folded and unfolded the drawing of the piano in my hands. It was smeared from the ink and though only a representation of what I wanted, it still felt real.
I turned over trying not to think of the ruined dress I’d hidden under my bed. Or how I had stayed up till morning just staring at the paper.
My mother had made it her one goal to raise good sensible and moral daughters. My sisters and I were educated, graceful and above all level headed and accountable.
The more I thought about it maybe I was not accountable for my actions, my impulses and possibly my feelings.
It seemed I couldn’t drown out my thoughts, the quiet didn’t help.
Not that it was ever quiet down here.
For the first time that morning it was silent, the only sound was low footsteps.
There was a knock at the door.
I rolled out from underneath the covers and flatten my clothes before opening the door. It appeared that Mr. Fierro was going to fire me in person.
I struggled to close the heavy door as he entered and walked around the tiny room, glancing over the now frail flowers Victor had given me.
“Why did you attempt to make a fool out of me?” he asked accusingly
“I wasn’t”, I said
“I am sure, you are concerned about whether you still have a job ?"
“Yes.”
“Or are you concerned whether you will still be paid”, he picked up the piano drawing, “material things mean so much to you”, he mused
I wondered which one would make me look less selfish, not that it mattered. He held all the cards.
“Could you not put this in a letter ?”
“I am going to speak plainly, Ms. DeLune”
“Alright”
He seemed unsure how to begin.
“You told me at times you close your eyes and pretend to be elsewhere. Last night I saw a girl—you—appeared to be someone I would very much like to be with again.”
Your wife, I thought but didn’t ask.
“I’ve been under the impression that you don’t like
Before he could respond there was another knock at the door, a woman was standing at the door with an envelope in her hands
“This is for you”, she passed me the envelope.
I quietly thanked her and opened it; it was a note from Victor.
Join
Oddly enough it didn’t seem to be a question.
“You can follow me”, she said
Mr. Fierro was standing behind me, he had clearly seen what was written on the card.
“I have to go”, I said
“Are you certain ?”, he asked, although I felt that it was a loaded question.
“Yes”, I turned back to the woman, “just give me a minute”
I turned back to Mr. Fierro, he had taken the lilac from the vase.
“Love at first sight”
“What?” I said not understanding, he was still looking at the flowers. “Are you telling me these flowers mean something?”
“Thinking of you”, he picked up the bell flower
“And the lime blossom ?”, I asked looking at the last one.
“Lust.”
I momentarily regretted asking.
+3+
I followed the messenger towards the back of one of the restaurants on the first floor of the Palace, toward a private patio. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of the ocean rushing in, so close I could have reached down and touched it.
Victor was sitting alone around a small table, an arrangement of exotic fruit in the center. He stood and pulled out my chair.
“I was hoping to see you last night”, he said while peeling a bright green apple
“I was there. . . I was busy.”
“Do you know why so many of us still eat ?”, he asked
“Habit.”
“No, because nothing is more satisfying than the taste of fresh apple.”
He tossed me one, I clumsily caught it.
“You know”, he continued, "I wouldn’t have had
Being sensible also meant flattery would get you nowhere
“You are only interested in me because you think I’m
beautiful.”
“True”, he said, “Isn’t that how attraction and love start? If we were to all be honest.”
“Now you love me”, I scoffed. He had to be joking, “Even though you haven’t seen me at my worst”
“I believe that even at you worst . . . you are still lovely”
“Is that so”, I watched the waves roll in.
“I wouldn’t hide anything from you. For example do you even know why Mr. Fierro is even here.”
“It doesn’t matter if I know or not”, I said honestly, “I know it has something to do with the book and Specters.”
He stopped mid peel when I mentioned the book.
“Specters? I hate that term”, he said, “It should be something more poetic like . . . Angels.”
“Angels are supposed to be guides.” I remembered something from Sunday School.
“I like that”, he seemed inspired, “You know we could be archangels, guiding the poor souls in Nightfall. . . if you were my queen.”
“Stop it”
“Why? Clara, the reason you don’t fit in is because you aren’t like them. I was like you, I came from a wealthy and political family. I know about the high expectations, pressure and rewards. I think you want that all back. . .you deserve it. This is your way back in.”
I turned my attention to the apple in my hands.
“I can’t, I’m not like that.”
“Clara, I have my own personal Sanctuary in this very building. You could see your family whenever you want for however long and still come back to me. No silly rules to stick to.”
I closed my eyes and thought about it, but not for to long.
“You were telling me why Mr. Fierro was here”, I changed the subject.
He sat back in his chair, “Ever since his wife. . .Fierro has been on a crusade to breathe life back into the Loyalist. He believes that this book will start and uproar, which it will. People have nothing better to do here than read. It’s A ridiculous ultimatum. Either we abolish Sanctuaries or the book is released. Can you imagine what would happen if people didn’t have a way out ? What happens after they leave here shouldn’t be a problem of mine.”
“But your family is still there. Mr. Fierro made it seem like they do terrible things like posses people and haunt homes--”
“Even so. You know, When I met Fierro. . . however long ago. He had lost everything when he died ,money, status, respect. . I felt sorry for him, I helped him get it all back and he does things like this. Try to undermine some of the only rites we have, because he couldn't hold on to his own wife. It's peaceful here, I don't need him causing trouble”
“What are you going to do when he publishes it, anyway ?”, I asked out of curiosity.
“I won’t give him the chance. I’ll shut down his printers before he and Emile can finish the manuscript”
“What if it’s already finished?”
“Is it?”
I didn’t answer, It sounded like a threat and furthermore like something I did not want to be in the middle of. He sliced open a pomegranate, some of the red seeds spilling on the table.
“Perhaps”, said Victor. his tone changing, “I came along too strong. What if instead I told you that I had been looking for a pianist.”
“I’d say it was a big coincidence.”
“True, but this pianist could have her own suite, piano,
maybe even teach some classes. I find the one thing that keeps people going is
doing what they love. But you would have to do something for me.
He was being sincere but I sensed a caveat.
“What do you want?”, I asked
“Is the manuscript the only copy?”
“I think so, yes.”
“I want you to get the manuscript before Assembly tomorrow.”
“I can’t.”
“Clara I’m sure you know the power of the written word. It starts wars and conflicts and you don’t want that. You’d be saving the man from his own delusions. . . and the power he has over you.”
“And then what ?”
“Burn it.”
It was then that I decided to save myself from the monster.
+++
How do you steal from a man who never sleeps and hardly ventures outside?
I quickly fanned through the playing cards in my hand.
Ten of hearts
Ace
Three of Spades
A Seven and Queen, both of hearts
“Clara ?”, Emile waved his hand in front my face, “It’s your turn.”
“I know”, I said, “I’m just anxious to get back to
I discarded the queen and turned over another spade.
“Maybe you should invite Mr. Fierro to play? I’m not very good at card games.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you need me to do before leaving tomorrow night.”
“Not a thing.”
I knew exactly where the manuscript was, it was getting to it that would be difficult. After all I had tripped over it just last night. The bedroom door was closed and I knew Mr. Fierro was upstairs.
While Emile was studying his cards I discretely slipped off one of the earrings I was wearing. After a few more hands I started touching my ear frantically.
“Emile ? have you seen my earring ?”
“You just had it”, he noticed.
“This is terrible, it was Ms. Ginger’s. You have to help me look for it”
We started on the carpet and retracing my steps until finally I suggested he look outside in the hall.
“I’ll keep looking in here”, I said.
Once Emile was outside I closed the door and turned the lock, almost immediately I went into the bedroom and underneath the bed the heavy leather bound manuscript was still there.
A few pages fell out as I carried it. I hid it in the large purse I had been carrying, By the time it was safely concealed Emile began banging on the door.
“What are you doing.”. Mr. Fierro asked coming down the stairs
“I accidentally locked Emile out”, I said
He lightly pushed me aside and opened the door.
“Did you find it?” Emile asked
“No”, I said , "But it’s okay, I should probably go and pack, good night”
I was mixing my words together but gathered my things. On my way out I heard Mr. Fierro ask Emile what I’d lost but I was to far down the hall to hear the answer.
"Burn it"
I remembered the fireplace in the ballroom. I discarded the purse and carried the bound manuscript to the first floor.
It was quiet except for the sounds of the crickets in the garden. The only light came from the moon through the glass windows, but I could make out the fireplace. Taking a match from my pockets I tossed a lit one into the fireplace.
The pages were bound at the side by a thick adhesive strip, my hands trembled as I considered whether I should do this or not.
After scratching at the binding a few pages fell out. I
don’t know why I getting upset. In reality I was helping Mr. Fierro and perhaps
that was the best thing I could do. I’d be free from Mr. Fierro’s work and
But why did I care in the first place ?
I picked up the pages that fell and without looking at them I let a flame catch on to them and dropped the pages into the chamber. Perhaps Victor was right about me, maybe I had been spoiled, maybe Victor and his lifestyle did intrigue me more than I wanted to believe.
Yet his was using the promise of seeing my family to entice me.
The flames flickered as the door ballroom doors opened, letting a sliver of light through.
“Ms. DeLune”, Mr. Fierro’s voice was like a blade coming down.
I picked up what was left of the manuscript and ran through the dark towards the back door, tripping over myself as the doors opened to the garden
He was faster and closer behind me.
I cursed under my breath and entered the tallest part of the maze; I could hear him following me pages rustling loose from the manuscript. Trampling through the grass and the flowers I turned back the way I came.
Or so I thought.
Looking in either direction I had no idea where I was. I started walking at a slower pace for a few minutes, listening for footsteps. I almost wish the moon would go out so I could hide better.
The click of approaching steps sent a panic through me and I
hurried in the opposite direction, tossing off my shoes so they wouldn’t give
off my location. I had barley gotten one off when I located he ballroom doors at the end of the maze.
All I had to do was run, toss this stupid manuscript in the fireplace and get on with my death.
“Stop!” I heard him calling from a distance.
I reached for the handles but the glass doors were locked. I was trapped. Frantically, I started knocking on the glass.
“Help me !”, I called to no one.
I could already feel the space closing in on me.
Mr. Fierro's hand slipped over my mouth and I was knocked to the floor,
his full weight on top of me. I struggled to escape his vice like grasp tightening as I struggled. He lifted me off the ground, my heels dragged as I
attempted to fight as he released the
catch on the doors and took me back
inside the ballroom.
Where I assumed no one could hear me scream.
“Let go of me”, I screamed
Instead he pushed me against the wall, his skin glowed underneath the flicking flame.
“How dare you cross me”
“I didn’t do anything”, after all I had only burned a few pages.
I started kicking again as he picked me up again under my knees, this time heading straight for the roaring fireplace. My legs and arms were going numb either from fear or his strong hold on me. For someone who spent a large amount of time at a desk he was strong.
“I’m sorry-let go me".
I could hear the angry flame crackling waiting for its victim.
Mr. Fierro was far from a tolerable but man, but now he seemed paralyzed with determination, as if the fire was calling to him. Although he didn’t smile he seemed to be enjoying what was going to happen.
“Hush, This will be over quickly, you'll thank me later.”
He repeated that three times each time getting closer and closer to the fire.
My foot dangled just a few inches from the flame and I started to scream, my hair was sticking to my face the rubber soles of my one flat were beginning to distort.
He hesitated and instead turned so my hair was closest to the fire, I finally got the nerve to start screaming.
His arms loosened and I felt myself rolling towards the heat.
“You’ll thank me later”, he said almost detached from the scene.
I found myself clinging to the man who intended to curse me to everything he was against. His muscles tensed slightly .
He took another step closer and let me fall.
+++
Minutes later I became suddenly aware.
The cold hard ground felt welcoming against my clammy, warm face. I stayed on the floor until the doors closed behind me.
I opened my eyes and saw the destroyed manuscript was gone, and I was alone.
I dragged myself away from the fireplace and carefully stood myself up. Still shocked I walked in a small circle before heading back towards the staircase, cursing myself for letting myself being manipulated.
I walked awkwardly in my half melted shoe, looking back at the garden where my other shoe was, I could have gone back to retrieve it but I decided to leave it for the prince to find.
+++
The halls were quiet as I descended the steps back towards the Dungeon on the second to last flight I heard Emile and Fierro arguing.
“She’s not in her room, what have you done with her ?”, asks Emile
“Nothing, Emile.”
“Clara wouldn’t just do something like this without a good reason.”
“Victor has gotten to her. Women are so fickle I have very little need for someone like that”
“Why are you going to her room?”, Emile questioned him
“I was just giving her her compensation””, he said simply
“Where did you get that, then ?”, he must have pointed to the ruin manuscript
“She had a change of mind. I found it in the halls like this.”
“Fierro”, Emile became serious, “We’ve all been here for years, this is all new to her and maybe I’m a bit poetic but even you know you attract more bees with flower than vinegar.”
Mr. Fierro continued down the stairs as Emile headed up, he didn’t seem surprised to see me.
“Clara”, he looked at my disheveled appearance, ”What happened”
“I'm fine. . .I was just trying to help”, I said, “I have to explain to Victor—“
“No, I think you should go home.”
“You mean
“I think you might be able to catch a late night train, Fierro should calm down by the time we get back. Here take these”, he balanced on the wall and took off his loafers.
I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to go back that I wanted to stay here in the castle, in this Wonderland, but i I had clearly ruined that chance.
With a melancholy thank you and the white envelope attached to my door, I ran to the train station.
+4+
I stood at the front door of my grandmother’s house, much as I had 4 months ago. It was twilight and hard to believe I had been just a 5 hour train ride from “home” all along. I stood at the door for a while and began clicking my heels together.
Nothing.When morning finally came I spent the day holed up in my house; reading cookbooks, abridges novels and anything else I could find. I kept the windows drawn and the door locked.
For a little while I
just wanted to be alone.
My father had always warned me to stay way from corrupt men and their agendas. Maybe that's why he liked Peter. Peter was a deeply respectful and had shunned politics for music.
Soon I realized that from the top floor in the highest bedroom I could see the entire neighborhood and watched unseen, or if I wanted from the balcony attached to it.
A blue Packard pulled up to the green and red house across the street the next day. I peeked through the blinds as Emile and Mr. Fierro emerged from the car.
Emile gestured towards my house, Mr. Fierro lead him away deep in conversation. I could see him carrying the bandaged manuscript.
The next day Ms. Ginger, realizing I must have been back as wel,l, knocked on the front door. I got dressed and went to greet her.
“Clara ? When did you get back ?”, she asked
“Not to long ago.”
I hurried past her, suddenly remembering I had someplace to be.
“Where are you going ?”, she asked as I unlocked my bike
“To get my piano.”
I bundled up in my coat and road towards Litany village. The music store was decorated for the fall with colored leaves and pumpkins.
The shopkeeper didn’t recognize me as I walked in.
The two pianos sat in the back the same as before, they were shined and ready to go. The black one was a classic Steinway but the vintage oak one was calling to me, I could put it by the window.
“I’d like this Piano”, I told her.
“Hmm”, she said, “It’s a classic. I just sold it though.”
“That’s fine, I’ll take the other one.”
“I’m sorry I sold that one too”
The last few months washed over me like a deliberate waste of time.
“What do you mean ?”, I questioned her.
“I have to make a profit”, she flipped through the book, “I sold them to a Mr. Fierro last week.”
“On. . .
She nodded.
+++
“Emile !”, I knocked on the little red door, it’s hinges bounced, “Open the door !”
I looked back at my discarded bike on the street, it seemed Mr. Fierro had anticipated my outburst and had locked his door.
After several hard knocks, the rickety lock snapped and broke I was finally able to push it open,
“Mr. Fierro ?”, I called, expecting him to be hiding.
He had been sitting in the Parlor the whole time listening to me knock.
“I knew it.”, I accused him
“Ms. DeLune.”, he said calmly
“No, listen to me”, I‘d had enough, “I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me. Why are you being so petty? You know how much a piano meant to me.”
“Get out of my house, Ms. DeLune.”
Even though I knew he could easily overpower me I still didn’t
“I’ve always thought and secretly called you a monster but now you’ve proven it.”
He slammed the book he was reading and I went past the parlor and into the halls, stripping the mirrors of their covering.
“Don’t you see?”, I said running up the stairs to the hall mirrors, “don’t you see the monster in the mirror ?”
The five mirrors on the top floor were all in different shapes, materials yet worked beautifully together.
A woman’s touch
“You know what I just realized”, I called from the top floor, I was slightly out of breath “Every house on this block is haunted, yours most of all.”
I’d expected Mr. Fierro to still be at the end of the steps, instead he was looking at his reflection in the downstairs mirror.
The glass shatters as the book he was reading hits it and without hesitation Mr. Fierro throws the framed mirror off the wall. The tip of the gold frame hits the floor with enough force to shatter the glass before spilling over.
Suddenly all the confidence I had shatters faster than the mirror.
The glistening shards spread like sand across the floor and I know this is my fault.
Maybe if I hadn’t been a workaholic, maybe if I had stayed and played the piano, maybe if I had gone to Milan with Peter, maybe if I hadn’t insisted on that condo off Springsberry road, maybe I'd still be alive.
I reached down to pick up the shards.
“Leave it”, he said, “let the new maid get it.”
I walked out the still opened door, with no intention to return. As the door to my grandmother's house closed behind me. I would later find solace in knowing how long it would be until the door was opened again.