Page 43 of The Silence of Hell

“Have you moved my gear?” he asked.

“No?”

“I left it with the others, but it’s gone. Harriet just found it placed in the cellar,” Dan complained.

“Sorry, that wasn’t me,” I replied, and he nodded.

Dan sent a glance at the book in front of me before moving away.

Yet another mystery, but I shoved it from my mind and focused on what I was doing.

I began turning the thick pages, seeing no sign of damage whatsoever. Richard’s own writing was as clear today as it was four hundred years ago. I scrolled down and scanned the pages as I sought any information of a haunting.

Absorbed by the family history, I fell off my chair when Chatter spoke. Chatter’s hands shot out and caught me.

“Shit! Sorry. Are you okay, Lavender?”

“Yes. Damn. You surprised me.” I gasped as I straightened and pulled away from his warm grasp.

Chatter’s eyes searched my face, and he stepped back and motioned to a beautiful woman by his side. She had her head tilted, and her gaze flicked back and forth between Chatter and me.

“This is Phoenix. She’s the Hellfire sister. You remember telling me you wished you could talk to someone who’d experienced what you had? Phoe did. She won the lottery in the UK and became mega-rich, all the while being a normal person,” Chatter said.

Phoe’s eyebrows rose as she regarded Chatter with surprise. “Well, now, buddy, look who’s discovered his voice.”

“Shut it,” Chatter responded rudely, but Phoe snorted.

“Go away. I want to talk to Lavender,” she ordered and waved him off as she grabbed a chair.

“Phoe!” Chatter growled.

“Scram. Don’t make me find—”

“I’m off!” Chatter declared and disappeared immediately.

“That threat always works,” Phoe said smugly. She leaned forward and peered at the tome. “What’s this?”

“A family journal. It was started four hundred years ago by the man who created my bloodline,” I replied.

“So cool! Tell me about it,” Phoe demanded, and I laughed. She seemed quite excited by the idea.

Funnily enough, we talked for a good couple of hours. Phoe was pretty down to earth, and she told me how she had used her wealth to start the charities named the Trusts. I’d heard of them and applauded her efforts and made a note to make a significant donation to them.

Phoe explained how hard it had been to keep her feet on the ground as she struggled with the millions she’d won. It had been a shocking experience for her, and she laughed as she recalled when she made her first billion.

It helped listening to Phoe describe how she found it overwhelming to become so rich. From struggling to feed her five children to being able to dine out every night and not blink at the cost. Phoe helped me see that I was feeling unworthy of it and that I was the person I was always meant to be.

Like me, Phoe believed things happened for a reason, and I was really glad to have spoken to her. Several hours passed as I got the lingering negativity out of me—along with the self-doubt—and relaxed into my wealth. Slowly, I began realising that it hadn’t changed me. Sure, it had affected my family, but not me. Their greed was not on me, and it was their problem. Not mine.

“Um, I know somebody who’d love to look at this,” Phoe announced, indicating to the journal.

“Oh?

“Sinclair Cutter, she is one of the Rage’s old ladies. She’s fascinated by shit like this and is an expert,” Phoe said proudly.

“Sinclair Montgomery? Funnily enough, someone else mentioned her recently,” I replied.

“Really? I have a direct line to her. Should I arrange for Sin to come and visit?” Phoe asked.

---