Page 61 of The Silence of Hell

“You’re telling me my parents tattooed a baby? Get real. Your scheme went wrong. Get the hell out of my home!” I yelled.

“You’ll regret this, Lavender. This piece of paper will cause you a shitload of problems,” Rik blustered.

“I’ll wipe my ass with that when the judge laughs you out of court!” I hissed.

“You were told to leave by the owner. Do it, or we’ll help you out,” Chatter threatened from behind Rik.

Rik turned and studied them, and I saw the fear cross his face even as he quickly wiped it. He was older than me, and it showed. Rik was in his late forties, and while he’d never been good-looking, he was very unattractive now. His face had jowls, and there was a definite beer gut that his suit couldn’t hide. Rik’s eyes squinted like a pig, and his lips were fat and fleshy. Life hadn’t been kind to Rik at all.

And compared to the two bikers facing him, both hot and muscled, Rik didn’t stand a chance. He backed away with his hands up.

“This isn’t over Lavender. If you don’t share, I’ll make sure you lose everything,” Rik warned as he headed towards the doors.

“Go fuck yourself,” I spat, and Chatter laughed.

“Told him, babe,” he said, snatching me close to him. Phoe and Rock exchanged glances, and a slow grin crossed their faces. I wondered what that meant.

???

Later that day, I was wandering the gardens when movement caught my eye. I glanced around and noticed someone standing in the widow’s tower looking down at me. Enough was enough. I headed inside, grabbed the keys to it, and slipped past everyone. Whatever was in there was something I wasn’t ready for. I needed to be alone to confront it.

I opened the door and, climbed the stone steps to it and gazed at the thick wooden door at the top of them. The widow’s tower had two levels. Slowly, I unlocked it and entered. Automatically, I hit the light switch and frowned when it worked this time. I entered and looked around. This was a sitting room, the furniture comfortable and well used. There were books on a table and knickknacks about. But the pictures on the walls took my breath away and caused a sharp pain.

They were mine. I remembered drawing some of them as a child. There were also photos of me and Aggie and a baby book. I saw a photo album and opened and discovered it was full of pictures of me and Aunt Aggie. There were other things here that I’d made, Christmas ornaments and Easter bonnets or baskets.

It hit me hard. This was Aunt Aggie’s real treasure. Memories of me and her together. Everything down below had a monetary value, but up here, this is where Aunt Aggie kept things that meant something to her.

I spotted the stairs leading to the next level and was surprised to find it was now two rooms. I recalled it being just the one massive bedroom up here, but there was a division and two doors. On opening the first, my puzzlement deepened. It was a teenager’s room made for a boy. There were posters and toys and young reading material. There was a double bed in a corner, and in the closet hung an adult’s clothes.

Completely confused, I backed out and entered what would have been Aunt Aggie’s. The walls were covered in pictures of her children and Uncle Ronald, separately and as a family. I saw items they’d made for Aunt Aggie, like a mom plaque and an embroidery circle with ‘Best Mom’ on it.

I sat on Aggie’s bed and looked at the younger version of my aunt in various snapshots. In most, her kids and Uncle Ronald were always with her. Aggie was laughing in most, and she seemed so happy.

There were pictures of Aunt Aggie as she got older, and in these, she was alone. Sadness hit me at the contrast between her younger and older life. In her closet hung clothes, and on her bedside table was perfume and other items. My eyes lit on something that made me sit up straight. A plaster of Paris sat in the corner of the room with some umbrellas and walking sticks in. It was a leg cast.

How could that possibly be there? Aunt Aggie would have had that on at the time of her death. None of this made any sense. I headed out of the bedroom and downstairs. There was a tiny bathroom on this level, and checking it, I discovered shampoo and all the other items you’d see. But I didn’t expect a man’s shower gel or shampoo. Had Aunt Aggie met someone?

I sat down in the sitting area and took a second glance around. Something bothered me here. There was a knock on the door, and Chatter entered.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“Yeah. This appears to be where Aunt Aggie kept what she thought of as real treasures. Take a look,” I said and wondered if Chatter would notice what I just had.

“Did you clean?” Chatter asked after a few minutes.

“Precisely! There’s no dust. This should have been like the rest of the Manor. But it wasn’t. Why not?”

“Lavender, it means someone’s been here and recently,” Chatter explained.

“Yes, and look at the windows. Those are blackout curtains. Someone could easily have had lights on up here the entire time,” I pointed out.

“We better search out those passageways and rooms you mentioned,” Chatter stated.

“We can’t get to them because they’re rammed full. But that corridor last night. There was something there that jogged my memory. There could be a passageway, but I’m unsure,” I mused.

“We can check it out,” Chatter offered.

“Yeah. Somehow, I thought this would give me some answers. Instead, it’s raised even more questions.”