Almost Dead

by Blake Pierce

  She dished some food onto a plate, turned, and left the kitchen.

  Cassie decided to seize the moment. She couldn’t wait until Ms. Rossi returned, which might well be very late.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” she told Nina.

  Leaving the kitchen, she hurried after the businesswoman, following the delicious aroma of food down the corridor.

  Before Ms. Rossi could close her office door, Cassie caught up with her.

  “Please, I need to speak to you,” she said. “It’s urgent.”

  Ms. Rossi paused. Then she gave a small nod.

  “All right,” she said. “Come in.”

  She placed the plate of food on the desk, but didn’t invite Cassie to sit down.

  “Ms. Rossi, I don’t know if you are aware that Nina didn’t go to school today,” she said.

  She was so nervous her voice sounded high and shrill, but at least she’d gotten the words out.

  Ms. Rossi’s frown deepened.

  “Of course she did. On early mornings, one of the teachers gives her a ride to school.”

  “I think you’ll find, if you check, that she didn’t go,” Cassie said, standing her ground.

  Ms. Rossi raised her eyebrows.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Then, with a sigh, she added, “You had better take a seat.”

  She took the plate of food and sat in her imposing leather chair, while Cassie perched across from her.

  “I found her at home this morning.” Cassie struggled to find the right words. Whether Ms. Rossi was aware or not, it was difficult to tell a mother that her daughter had serious psychological issues.

  “At home?”

  Ms. Rossi sliced into the chicken breast and ate a piece. The skin was so crispy Cassie could hear it crackling under the knife. The rich smell of gravy filled the room.

  “There’s this little annex, behind the downstairs cloakroom. The mirror opens into it.”

  “Yes, I know that place. I am not sure why it is there; whether the previous owners intended to enlarge the cloakroom or whether they might even have used it as a secret room, or panic room.”

  The businesswoman ate another forkful of chicken while Cassie continued.

  “I found Nina in there. She was sitting on the floor and talking to an old, broken doll.”

  Now Ms. Rossi’s eyebrows rose. “She was in there?”

  “Yes.”

  “That makes no sense. Was she trapped in there? No, she could not have been, because that door does not lock. Why did you not take her out and send her to school immediately?”

  Cassie shrugged, wishing now that she’d been firmer with Nina and acted the way Ms. Rossi had expected her to.

  “The door was partway open. But she refused to leave and I didn’t want to force her, as I wasn’t sure why she was there in the first place.”

  Ms. Rossi nodded thoughtfully as she chewed her chicken.

  She finished her mouthful and then put her fork down deliberately. It made a small clinking noise on the porcelain plate.

  Cassie filled the silence with item number three on her list, despite the uneasy feeling that she was speaking out of turn.

  “I was wondering if she might need some help—someone to talk to, or if her schoolteachers need to be made aware. There might be bullying issues.”

  Cassie had wanted to say more, but her words trailed off, silenced by Ms. Rossi’s gaze as she regarded her from over her tortoiseshell spectacles.

  “I have another idea,” she said.

  “What—what is that?”

  Picking up her fork, Ms. Rossi carefully sliced and ate another mouthful of chicken before speaking again.

  “I think your game yesterday has been detrimental to both my children.”

  Cassie’s stomach clenched at the words.

  “Do you—do you really think so?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. The consequences are obvious. Venetia has lost her appetite and does not seem well, and now Nina has skipped school and spent the day hiding.”

  Ms. Rossi’s gaze intensified. “Hiding. Hide-and-seek.”

  Cassie felt her face burn with shame.

  “You must remember,” Ms. Rossi continued, spearing another piece of chicken, “that while my girls are extremely well disciplined, they are also only children, and they are prone to children’s fears. I told you very clearly when you started work, that we have had attempted incidents. A break-in, and an incident of attempted kidnapping.”

  Cassie swallowed hard, seeing where this was heading.

  “My children needed order and structure in their lives. But in you came, and turned their world upside down with a game that could only serve to upset them.”

  “Oh, no,” Cassie whispered, horrified.

  “Do you not realize that they have done drills with security experts, on how to hide away if there is a home invasion?”

  Cassie caught her breath.

  “Though necessary for safety, such drills leave a lasting impression on young children; they cause anxiety and mental scars. The game you played yesterday, so irresponsibly, must have reminded them about that. Now we are all suffering the consequences.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Cassie gasped.

  Ms. Rossi took a forkful of vegetables, gleaming in gravy, and carefully spread polenta on it.

  “We all make mistakes. What I require you to do, from here on, is comply with the rules. If you are not sure of them, by all means ask. But if you are unsure, it is always better to be cautious than reckless, not so?”

  Cassie nodded miserably, watching her chew and swallow.

  “I thought when I hired you that you were the right person, and that you would have the correct instincts to help care for my children. I see now that I was wrong. You have made me regret my decision, and now you will have to prove yourself to me all over again. Do not make another mistake. You have already been given one chance too many.”

  Suddenly, her voice was like a whip.

  “You may leave. The children will not need you tonight. Go to your room, and I will check on them when I return, later this evening.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cassie said again.

  She climbed to her feet, feeling as if she’d just staggered out of a boxing ring.

  Somehow she managed to get herself to the door, and through it, before she started to cry.

  This was all her doing. She’d been irresponsible, just as Ms. Rossi had said. She’d been a complete idiot, making misguided decisions in her efforts to assert herself and make the children like her.

  She hadn’t been putting Nina and Venetia first, not at all.

  Cassie felt ashamed to think what the security drills might have done to a young child, and how much fear they might have been suppressing, knowing that they would have to hide to save their life if an intruder broke in.

  She’d been told about the security concerns, and she hadn’t listened, and now she had failed the children and caused lasting trauma as well.

  Cassie made her faltering way back to the kitchen. Nina had already left, having washed her plate and tidied her glass away, but the food was still out on the counter.

  With her appetite gone, Cassie covered the meal and put it into the fridge. Then she stumbled upstairs.

  Needing some comfort, she climbed under the shower and stood there for a long time, letting the hot needles of water soothe the chills of shame and inadequacy that she felt.

  It was while standing in the shower that she found herself remembering a game that she and Jacqui had played, long ago.

  Cassie must have been nine at the time. It was after they’d had a talk at school from the local police department. The uniformed sheriffs had spent time in each classroom, explaining what to do if there were any acts of terrorism or shooting.

  The children had been told to push their desks to the classroom wall and crawl under them, as far under as they could go, and to stay there, as quiet as mice.

  All the child
ren had been scared, because it had opened up a world of possibilities they’d never thought could exist. Cassie already knew that violence could occur in her home. But at school? That, so far, had been a safe place.

  When she and Jacqui had gotten home, they had talked about what the police had said, and after that, they’d started playing, taking turns at hiding under the kitchen table while the other one had burst into the room.

  That play had been their way of handling things. Cassie hadn’t felt so scared about the possibility of having to get under her desk at school, after she and Jacqui had turned it into a game.

  If playing a game had helped the two of them, how could playing a game have harmed these children so badly? Especially since, at the time, they hadn’t appeared to be upset.

  Turning the shower off, Cassie felt the weight of guilt lift off her just a little.

  Though she’d been warned not to, she decided to go and speak to the children. They would know if they had been traumatized or not, and if they had been, what was the point of ignoring it? It would surely be better to talk it through.

  Cassie dressed in a tracksuit and toweled her hair dry. Now that she was feeling more positive, she realized she was hungry, and remembered the leftovers of yesterday’s dinner in the fridge. She uncovered the plate and hungrily dived into the cold risotto, finishing it off in a few bites.

  As she wolfed the food down, she realized how starving she was and how little she’d eaten during the day. She thought again how strange it was that she’d been given such a large plate of food last night—enough for two—and as she remembered that huge plate of food, an idea came to her.

  It wasn’t a full-fledged concept, more of a dark suspicion, but once it was in her mind, she couldn’t get it out again.

  It had started with the way that Ms. Rossi had continued eating while Cassie had told her what her older daughter had done that day. She had said she was shocked, but she hadn’t seemed to be. Despite the distressing news she’d been given, she had eaten calmly and even with relish, as if Cassie’s words were no more than background entertainment. Cassie had been too distracted by what she needed to say, to realize how inappropriate the other woman’s behavior had seemed, but now it was troubling her.

  The more she thought about Ms. Rossi’s response, and about the children’s strange actions that day, the more Cassie began to fear that she’d been wrong about everything, all along.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Cassie took the rest of the leftovers out of the bar fridge and headed down the corridor to the children’s wing, before tapping on Venetia’s door.

  The young girl was still reading. She looked drained and heavy-eyed, and Cassie thought she might have been crying.

  “Your mother’s gone out. I brought you a snack, in case you were hungry,” Cassie whispered.

  Venetia’s eyes lit up as she saw the food.

  “Thank you,” she whispered back.

  Sitting up in bed, she attacked the plate, devouring every morsel of food that was there. From the breadsticks to the dip, the slices of prosciutto to the mozzarella balls, Venetia wolfed it down as if she was a starving child.

  Cassie was beginning to understand this was exactly what she was.

  “Venetia, if you are so hungry now, why didn’t you eat today?” she whispered.

  Venetia shook her head, stuffing the last piece of roasted pumpkin into her mouth.

  “Were you upset after the hide-and-seek?” Cassie asked.

  “No. I enjoyed the hide-and-seek,” she said. “But we are not allowed to play it again.” Her face grew solemn and Cassie had the sense she was clamming up inwardly.

  Ms. Rossi had been wrong. This trauma was not caused by the hide-and-seek.

  Cassie remembered how Venetia had flinched away from her when playing tag. She had blamed herself, thinking she’d hurt the young girl. There had even been a visible bruise which she had assumed she’d caused.

  Bruises took time to develop. A red mark would have been there instantly, but bruising was bleeding and took longer to appear. Therefore, she hadn’t caused that bruise.

  “May I see your arm?” she asked gently.

  Cassie caught her breath as she pushed up the nightgown sleeve.

  The bruise was worse now, and there was more than one. It looked as if Venetia’s arm had been clamped, or pinched, causing two deep bruises that were now blue-black in color.

  Cassie felt sick as she stared at them.

  She’d suffered those herself, growing up, when her father had been angry or drunk or impatient with her. Then her boyfriend Zane had proved to be an abuser, grabbing her arm in anger and causing a very similar bruise to appear. It was at that moment Cassie had decided she had to get away—from Zane, from her life, from her own inability to escape the destructive cycle. Staring down at the livid marks on her arm, she had realized that if she didn’t make big changes immediately, she might never be able to.

  Cassie had gotten away. Now, seeing the same mark on Venetia’s arm, she had a terrible suspicion that these girls were exactly where she had been.

  “Do you know how you got this bruise?” Cassie asked gently.

  Venetia’s reply sounded rehearsed.

  “I fell off my horse,” she said.

  Cassie raised her eyebrows. She was beginning to wonder if horse riding was used as a convenient excuse to explain away bruises and marks.

  “Did someone grab your arm to try and stop you falling?”

  Venetia shook her head and Cassie saw the blankness in her eyes again.

  “I don’t remember,” she said.

  Cassie decided to leave it. After the long, hungry day she’d had, Venetia didn’t deserve to be interrogated now.

  “It’s time for you to go to sleep. Would you like me to read you a story first?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Venetia looked exhausted, as if after the much-needed food, her body was desperate for rest. She turned over and curled into a ball before Cassie reached the door.

  Cassie’s mind was spinning as she turned out the light. What was life like for these girls? What had made them into the people they were? She was beginning to suspect that this had nothing to do with grooming them to be business leaders, and everything to do with something darker and more evil.

  Venetia not eating, and staying at school all day when she didn’t have to. Nina sitting alone with her broken doll in that cold room.

  She hadn’t caused this to happen, with her game of hide-and-seek.

  The children were victims, and Cassie was willing to put money on the fact this had been going on long before she arrived.

  She tapped on Nina’s door and found her in bed, already half asleep, with the book she’d been reading lying face-up on her chest.

  Cassie carefully removed it and put it on the bedside table, and Nina blinked at her, confused by tiredness.

  Hoping that the girl’s sleepy state might make her more relaxed about a question, Cassie asked casually, “Did you go into that room by yourself this morning? Or did anyone tell you to go there?”

  “I don’t know,” Nina whispered.

  “Have you been there before?”

  Nina didn’t answer. She stared at Cassie in silence, and Cassie knew her questioning was futile. The girls weren’t talking, and pressuring them any further would feel uncomfortably close to bullying.

  “Good night,” Cassie said.

  She walked back to her room and closed the door.

  Cassie felt as if her world had been turned upside down.

  The powerful woman who had intimidated and impressed her was nothing more than an abusive mother who tormented her children for any minor infraction.

  Cassie suspected it; in fact, she was sure of it. But without concrete proof or a confession from the children, she would be as powerless to stop this as the two of them were.

  *

  The next morning, Cassie was up at six. She dressed quickly, keeping her light off but opening her
curtains so that she could see the children’s rooms on the opposite side of the courtyard.

  She resolved that from this moment, she was going to keep an eagle eye on them until she had answers, or else proof.

  It was Sunday today, so they wouldn’t be going to school, and might sleep in later. Perhaps Ms. Rossi would be around for more of the time, and if so, that would give her a chance to see how they interacted as a family.

  She felt tense and keyed up, as if she was preparing for a fight, and wondered if that was what it would end up being. She didn’t want to go up against somebody as powerful as Ms. Rossi, but there was no way she could keep turning a blind eye to what was going on.

  The children’s lights went on just after seven, but to Cassie’s frustration, their curtains remained closed. She would have to go into their rooms, wish them good morning, and open the curtains herself.

  At that moment, Cassie was alerted by movement from outside. Peering into the gloom, she saw that it was Maurice, the personal assistant, arriving as usual. If he was working today, that meant Ms. Rossi might be out and about, also.

  Cassie suddenly realized that this was a golden opportunity.

  Maurice Smithers must know what was going on. He was probably the most frequent visitor to the house, and had a closer working relationship with Ms. Rossi than the household staff.

  Cassie ran out of her room and arrived at the back door just as Maurice was opening it.

  He gave her a sour look.

  “Good morning,” he said, and stood, coffee in hand, waiting for Cassie to move out of the way.

  “I need to ask you something,” Cassie said.

  Maurice glanced down at his shiny shoes and then back up at her and she wondered if he suspected what she wanted from him.

  “What is it?” he replied in a low voice. “I really don’t have time for this. Signora is attending a model call this morning and we have to leave in half an hour.”

  Cassie stood her ground and watched Maurice shift his feet. He didn’t look impatient, she thought. He looked uneasy. She suspected he might already have guessed what she was going to say.