by Brown, Tara
We moved carefully and quietly. I stopped listening for sounds and watched her, assuming she knew better than I did.
Paige drifted down the hall, moving with her legs to mimic walking, but she was floating. It was more terrifying to see her so clearly. The gunshots in her back, two blackened marks stained by old-looking blood, broke my heart. I couldn’t take my eyes off them or stop myself from wondering how long it took? Did it hurt? Did she suffer?
She paused and stared back at me, spinning in the creepiest way I’d ever seen. Her haunting eyes flickered to mine. She lifted a pale finger to her lips, staring through her messy, wet, dark hair.
I nodded.
She started moving forward again, flickering until she disappeared. As I got further down the quiet hallway, the door to my mother’s parlor creaked open next to me.
Every tiny hair on my body stood on end, but I walked in. When I got far enough inside, it creaked until it clicked closed. Though I couldn’t see her, I knew it was Paige.
She appeared in front of the same side table, pointing at it.
I rushed over, trying not to notice how close her ghostly body was to mine as I opened the drawer. I expected something significant. I found nothing but some old pictures and a brochure for a salon. Confused, I stared up at Paige.
She sneered, her eyes stuck on the drawer. She saw something I didn't. I took the photos from the drawer, rifling through them, finding nothing more than old images of my family before I was born. Mother and Queen Gertrude holding Lucas and Laertes when they were tiny babies in one photo. Another of Claudius beaming in front of Elsinore and some antique looking blue car. One photo was of my father and King Hamlet smoking cigars with their arms around each other. They were young and oblivious of how this life might turn out for them.
Paige’s eyes stayed with the pictures, her expression stuck in a grimace. I closed the drawer and hurried back out of the parlor and down the hallway to my room. When I got there, I closed the door.
Laertes walked in without knocking, closing the door. “She isn’t here. She went out with Lucas’ mom. Some fundraiser they’re helping to set up for.” His stare lowered to the pictures in my hand. “What’d you find?”
“Nothing—I don’t know. Paige led me right to them but it’s nothing. It’s you and Lucas being held by Mother and Gertrude. Another of Father and King Hamlet looking quite jovial actually. I might keep that one.” I flipped to the next picture. It was one I hadn’t seen yet of the whole group of them in front of Elsinore.
Nothing made sense from the photos.
“Try to find a clue in these.” I handed them to him and hurried to my window where I’d stashed my phone before they took me, lifting the loose board. I turned it on, the battery was now dead.
I hurried to my charger and plugged it in. “It’s dead.”
“Of course, it is,” Laertes grumbled.
“It’s not my fault.” I gave him an annoyed look.
Impatiently, he flipped through the four photos, shaking his head. “These are nothing. There can’t possibly be a clue in them. They’re family pictures, I’ve seen many like them dozens of times.”
Paige appeared next to me, pointing her grim finger at the phone. I pressed the “on” button until it finally lit up. I checked her messages to me, all the texts I received from everyone else, and my emails. I scanned social media and all my online profiles.
But there was nothing weird. In fact, my accounts were oddly quiet, considering I hadn’t been checking them religiously.
Paige continued to point.
I went to my emails, but she shook her head slowly. Social media accounts got the same reaction. Tapping back to messages, she pointed as if she were poking the phone.
At my contacts and messages list, I held the phone in her direction, letting her point to her name again. Positive this was crazy, I opened her messages, scrolling slowly, a little worried I was losing my mind and none of this was real.
She pointed violently again when we got to her video.
I tapped, starting it.
“O, okay, it was a shitty thing to do. I didn’t mean to invite Horatio. It sort of just happened. And I didn’t think in a million years he would bring Lucas since his dad's wake was that day.”
She took a drag off her smoke and paused.
“I think I might love him, Horatio, and I made a stupid choice, and I’m the worst friend ever. But I’ve been giving this some thought, and you have to forgive me for two reasons: One, I’m your best friend in the whole world. That means no matter what happens, you have to love me. We’re chosen, family. And two, you ditched me that night you hooked up with Lucas, and I had to walk for six hours to get back to civilization from the docks. Because unlike you spoiled shits, I don’t have drivers. It took me eight hours to get home. So we’re even. I really am sorry, and I hope you didn’t bang him, because I super don’t want to start this shit all over again. I love you.”
Laertes crossed the room. “You and Lucas hooked up?” his voice cracked and I froze.
“Years ago,” I whispered.
“When?”
“I was seventeen and Lucas was drunk, and it just happened.” I turned to him, praying the pleading in my eyes was enough to pause this moment or the fight it could entail. “And I know you’re angry because you love him. And I’m a dick for not realizing that before this week. But can we save this fight and your feelings and my punishment for another time? Please?”
He clenched his jaw but managed to speak through it, “What night was it?”
I didn’t want to tell him but knew he needed the answer. I understood that need. “The party at the lake house where Daniel Forester lit his pants on fire jumping through the bonfire.”
Laertes flinched, closing his eyes. “He told me he hooked up with Angelica Bijou.”
“It was me. We went to some gross loft.”
My brother pressed his lips together, but something changed. His eyes shot open and only his right eye narrowed, a signal he was thinking really hard. “I drove her home.”
“Who? Angelica?”
“Paige,” he said as he snatched my phone and replayed the video. At the end he tapped the phone off. “I drove her home. Those numbers mean something else. She didn’t walk, and she didn’t go to the docks. The party was at the lake which was a fifteen-minute walk at most to a bus stop. She’s lying. She knew something might happen to her. She knew mother was up to something. She hid this here for you to find, in case.” Laertes was excited instead of heartbroken. He was managing to do the thing I asked.
“But what does it mean?”
“I’m sending it to Horatio. There’s no point sending it to father until we decipher it.” He moved his fingers quickly, forwarding the message to Horatio with a text explaining what it was.
Laertes’ phone rang a couple of minutes later.
“Hey,” he answered with it on speaker so I could hear.
“Is she there?” Horatio sounded angry. “Is O there?”
“Yeah.” Laertes scowled. “She’s right next to me.”
“Ophelia, you asshole. You had this video the entire time and didn’t let me see it?” His voice was emotional and harsh.
Realization smacked me. They’d fought before she died. “I’m so sorry. My phone was dead and things have been so crazy. And now that I’ve heard it a second time, I can’t believe I didn’t mention that part.” I winced while Laertes closed his eyes, annoyed.
“Can we focus on the important parts?” Laertes growled. “The night Paige is speaking about is the party at—”
“The lake house,” Horatio answered.
“You knew? You knew Lucas and O hooked up?” It was Laertes’ turn to sound betrayed.
Horatio was silent for a moment before quietly saying, “It wasn’t my place to say something.”
“Fine,” Laertes snapped. “We’re all a bunch of insensitive assholes. Anyway, I drove you guys home from the lake house. Remember? You and Paige. She d
idn’t walk. She didn’t go to the docks. What do those numbers mean?” Laertes was bitter, there was no denying it but he was keeping it at bay.
“Six and eight and docks are the lies. Docks are numbered but we don’t have a sixty-eight.”
“What about a six or eight or eighty-six?” Laertes started to do his legal eagle thing. “Wait, doesn’t eighty-six mean something. It’s getting rid of something, you ‘eighty-six’ it? What if she was purposefully mixing the numbers up?” Laertes asked.
“Holy shit. Eighty-six is one of the older docks. The crane doesn’t work down there so we use it as a storage bay. We just call it eighty-six. That’s not it’s number, but it’s for scrap parts and extra storage.” Horatio sputtered. “Holy fuck. No one ever goes down there. It’s one of those spots you wouldn’t think has security, but there is.”
“Did Paige know about it?” I asked her ghost who was staring at me. The sadness on her face crushed my heart.
She nodded as Horatio spoke, “She did. I used to do all my meetings there, keep it safe, ya know? This is it. I guarantee there is security footage of Paige’s murder if she was there.”
“Can you get it?” Laertes questioned.
“Totally. I’ll text you as soon as I have some info. Thanks for the video, even if it’s weeks late.” The call ended and I stared at my brother.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how you felt about Lucas. It never would have happened.”
He knit his brow, wanting to say mean things. I saw the cruelty forming in his mind. But he sighed and lost the hatred he was capable of. “He’s not gay, O. It’s wasted love and a hopeless pipe dream.”
I hugged him, hating that I was hurting his feelings. “I’m still sorry.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He pulled from my embrace. “What is with these photos?”
I glanced at Paige again, but all she did was point at them in Laertes’ hand. “Not a clue.”
They were another mystery I didn’t have a clue about.
Chapter 15
Sunday, July 28
Sleeping in my room with a barricade against the door for two nights, worked the second night. I finally slept, which was probably the first time in a while. Unburdening myself on Dr. Graves and my father made me feel better, freer. But there was still the unknown. Mother hadn’t been confronted. She hadn’t responded. Did she know? Was she plotting too? It was stressful.
I got up and put on a robe before I cleared the doorway, listening for her or anyone, but there was nothing. No movement or breath in the hallway that I could hear.
Mother had been in a weirdly good mood yesterday, even pleased to see me home which naturally made me wonder if we had somehow played into her hands. Was she aware of what we’d done, and was this what she had wanted all along?
My stomach growled and the need for food and coffee won out. Opening the door to my bedroom like some kind of escapee was proof in point of the level of disfunction I was living with. And only being away from it for a length of time revealed the mess I was.
The hallway was empty, so I snuck to the left this time, trying not to make the same choices every day. I rushed for the main staircase, hurrying down to the foyer and through the main arteries of the house to the dining room.
Laertes was there. Father clearly had been and gone, his dishes lingered.
I sat at the breakfast table, offering my brother a stressed half-smile as he greeted me, “Morning.”
“Morning,” I said, trying not to make noise.
“Sleep well?” he asked over the paper.
“I did. You?”
“No. I heard our parents fighting most of the night,” he muttered, lowering the newspaper and his voice. “Mother was accusing him of taking your side over hers. She got angry and said she was bringing Dr. Horkel to the house to have you assessed, calling the people at the retreats charlatans.”
“How did you hear them from your room?” I hadn’t heard a thing.
“I wasn’t in my room. Honestly Ophelia, I tell you she wants Dr. Horkel to come here, and that’s the first thing you ask?” He lifted an eyebrow, making the same inquisitive expression our father did.
“It doesn't matter that they fought. She'll win. I’m preparing for her to win, Laertes. I feel better that Father knows, but I have no faith in anyone saving me or helping me. She’s managed to convince everyone I’m insane for a long time. A crazed depressed girl. I’m not staying here for long.” I didn’t mention my bag was packed and stashed in the forest, something I’d done with Paige. A girl and a ghost wandering the estate in the middle of the night.
“Anyway, Miss Negative Nancy, Father told her that if Dr. Horkel even stepped so much as a toe inside New Denmark after today, he would find himself at the hands of the least gentle mercenaries Father knew. He told her this was his notice; he had twenty-four hours to get out of town and never come back,” Laertes enunciated every syllable, stressing the severity of the situation.
“Wait!” I leaned forward. “He said that? Holy shit!”
“Morning, Ophelia. What is the rule about cussing at the breakfast table?” Deborah entered the room with a hefty latte for me.
“Sorry, Deborah,” I said quickly.
“I suppose you want the usual?” she asked with a wounded tone. She hated blender foods, but I loved a morning smoothie full of spinach, avocado, berries, and protein powder.
“Please, thank you.” I took the latte and sipped, sighing.
“You should know, your mother isn’t here. However that news makes you feel. Enjoy.” She grinned and walked from the room.
“Where is she?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you," Laertes groaned. "Father told her that Dr. Horkel has lost his license to practice medicine in the country. His accounts were frozen by a friend of the firm who’s in the IRS, and apparently the FBI is now investigating charges of fraud and abuse. Father said there has been a discovery of video evidence. His foul deeds done by the doctor were recorded. I can’t imagine the sort of monster who tortures kids and takes videos.”
The joy and bliss of a morning latte in a house without my mother sunk along with my stomach. “What?”
“I have to hope Father was bluffing, because that vile.” Laertes shuddered. “Anyway, Mother panicked, calling him a liar and saying that if he was going to choose you over her, she was leaving. Clearly, this sham of a marriage was no longer worth pretending for.”
“Oh my God,” I didn’t know how to feel. The video evidence was crushing the elation I should have been experiencing.
“Then it happened, O. Father laughed at her. He laughed at her right on the staircase. He told her she could take whatever she paid for on her way out.”
Pins and needles and panic plagued me. I put down the coffee with shaking hands. "What?"
My brother beamed, not feeling the same fear of her being cornered that I did. “Mother tried to take her cell phone, which Father had the guards seize. Furious, she removed her clothing and jewelry and walked from the house completely naked, no doubt imagining herself as some perverse version of Anne Boleyn. I don’t think Father has slept. The locks have been changed on all our houses. The security codes, as well. Her accounts are frozen. Her cards are inactive. She has nothing.”
“This means he wasn’t bluffing. There was video evidence,” I muttered, not excited the way he was. “It has to be true. Dr. Horkel betrayed Mother and recorded everything he did to me.” I swallowed that hard truth. “Father would not have acted this way if he hadn’t seen the recording.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Either way, every member of staff Father didn’t trust implicitly is gone, their access revoked, and his will is changed.” He laughed. “It’s been an intense two days, apparently. From the moment we told Father, this began.”
I covered my eyes, groaning. My appetite was gone.
“Why aren’t you excited?” Laertes asked.
“Mother’s vengeance will be swift and violent.
” I hugged myself tightly, holding my body together as I tried to get my breath. A panic attack was starting. My vision doubled and sweat formed on my brow. “She is going to come for us all. We’ll never escape this,” I gasped.
“O!” Laertes jumped up, hurrying to my side of the table. He pulled me from my chair and wrapped himself around me. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay. She has no money, no real friends, her family are nowhere near as connected as Father’s. And if she were to retaliate, Father has threatened to show the video of her standing by while a doctor put his hands—”
I gagged, covering my mouth.
“What is going on in here?” Deborah rushed in, grabbing me from my brother and hugging. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe, my love.” I closed my eyes as tears streamed my cheeks. I hadn’t realized how ashamed I was of what had happened with Dr. Horkel until this moment. And somehow the devil I knew, my mother, and all her cruelty, was better than this, the unknown. I could predict many of her actions in this controlled environment where sneaking about was crucial. But her being out in the world, waiting to strike with unknown means and measures, I couldn’t help but imagine the worst. And that was a problem since I couldn't imagine her worst.
“You need breakfast. You’ve barely been eating.” Deborah dragged me into the kitchen and forced me to sit at a barstool where she slid a pink smoothie in a tall milkshake glass to me.
I wiped my eyes and made myself take a large drink from the straw. The sweet flavor of berries landed, exploding in my mouth, kickstarting a survival-based hunger I couldn’t fight. I drank the entire thing as Laertes sat next to me.
“I think you have PTSD, O,” he said.
I nodded blankly, aware of that already. Dr. Zamora had explained that to us in group.
“I know it feels like things are spinning out of control, but I think they’re catching up. Everything is rushing the finish line as we’re coming to the head of this nightmare.” Laertes wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “But give Father a chance to fix the mistakes we’ve all made in keeping secrets in this family.”
