The next days were busy and noisy, with the contractors getting everything ready to start working on Monday. And that next week was enough for me to know I would be counting down the days for them to finish their work and be gone. The worst wasn’t the constant noises and loud voices, or the mess they were doing on that side of the garden, or the dust that no closed window seemed able to stop from getting into the Manor whenever even the slightest breeze blew from the guesthouse. The worst of all was that those men considered Mike and me a nuisance, and tried to have their way the moment we looked away.
I’d thought I could take a couple of days to go to Pennhurst. Changing the construction buzz for a night in the woods with Kujo looked like the deal of the century, but by the third day of work, it was already clear I would be stuck in the Manor from Monday to Saturday until they left.
Despite all that, April was sort of a quiet month. I adjusted to the routi
To my surprise, when I dropped by to give Amy back her keys, she asked me if I would have her over for a couple of days.“I’m sick and tired of being at home,” she said.“Sure. If you don’t mind a little racket starting on Monday.”“Oh, right, the guesthouse. I couldn’t care less.”So she packed one of her bags to carry elephants unnoticed and jumped into her red machine. Needless to say she got to the Manor about twenty minutes before me. The pros of having friends with better cars than me: when I got home, the coffee was already made.The Blotters were happy to see her again, and we spent a nice family Sunday all together.I was exhausted after all the driving over the last few days, so I called it a night early. I traded a few texts with Brandon, already in bed, and fell asleep with my phone still in my hands. I missed him badly. Facetime and texts were okay, but it didn’t make u
“How long?” I asked Amy as we walked out of the ER.“Three to four weeks. I gotta check with my physician first thing tomorrow.”She let me help her into the car and buckle her seatbelt.“Shit, Fran! What the fuck’s going on?” she snarled when I got in behind the wheel.“You ask me?” I reversed out of the slot and drove onto the street. “Why did you ask to come to the Manor so out of the blue? We had breakfast together that morning and you said nothing about it.”She shook her head, frowning ahead. “I don’t know. When you came back to say goodbye, I just felt this strong impulse to go with you. I don’t question that kind of feeling when I get them, so I just played along.“Like something inside you knew we would need you here,” I muttered.My phone rang, because the Haunter Supreme didn’t dig waiting. I handed it to Amy, who
I breathed deep, opened the door and stuck my head in to show off my poor French. “Un moment, Cristine, s’il vous plait.”I think that took her by surprise, because she stopped whatever she was doing. We walked in, and my first look was at the laptop, which I had completely forgotten about when Amy had gotten hurt. It was still on the desk, seemingly untouched. I hurried to grab it and take it out of the room, leaving it on the hallway floor by the wall.“Really, Fran?”“Hey, it’s important to me. Okay, where is she?”“Give me your hand.”I didn’t stop to think, I just held the bowl with one hand and stretched out my spare to the side. A firm cold grip wrapped around it and I saw Joseph’s tall silhouette by my side. He pointed at the middle of the room and I let out a muffled interjection: I could see a greyish shape in a disheveled heap, sitting or kneeling by the dis
I was happy to find Lady Audrey up and awake. She was obviously surprised to hear from me again so soon, and she hesitated before giving me authorization to record the call. Brandon moved back to sit at the other end of the couch.“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d need to ask you if there’s any kind of historic family record at the Foundation, or somewhere else.”“I’m sort of the official family historian.” Of course she would place herself in the center of the action. “What do you need?”“Does the name Cristine Gauthier ring a bell?”“No. Who is she?”“That’s what I need to find out. She lived in Amiens, France, over a hundred years ago, and died there in the Great War. That would put her in the third generation, give or take. Did any Blotter live in France about that time?”“I couldn’t say.” What kind of historian was she
The two Blotters frowned when we approached them, and they looked relieved to hear me ask about maps, instead of insisting about lovechildren and that kind of outlandish subject. Mr. Blotter seemed to assess there was no risk to the family’s honor in that and left Ann Lori to comply with our request.She led us back to the mahogany table, cleared half of it by the effective method of piling up binders at the other end, and opened another big book like the blue one. It contained maps and blueprints of every single property the Blotters had ever owned.They were all bound together, so there was no way to take the Manor’s blueprints out of the book, not even to make a copy of them. So we took several pictures of them for later printing. However, both Brandon and I wanted to take a good look at the originals, so we asked her for a magnifying glass.While she went to get it, he set the camcorder on his tripod across the table, making me place two chairs v
The nice ladies at the Historical Society hesitated when they saw Brandon walk in already filming. Until one of them recognized him. Then it was all smiles and giggles and a rush to help us. Soon we were sitting at a table covered with old maps and government records since the time Hardwick had been first settled by white people.Brandon set his camcorder on a tripod at the other side of the table, almost against the back wall, to keep in frame not only us, but also the loads of documents before us.We’d spent about thirty minutes going through records when one of the old maps caught my attention.“Look,” I said, showing it to Brandon. “See this town, Greenwich? It was flooded when they built the Quabbin.”He leaned in, studying the area I was pointing at with a curious frown. “So? What’s so special about it? Flooded graveyard or something like that?”I rolled my eyes. Of course the West Coast alien d
I didn’t have the heart to watch Brandon make a mess of my bedroom, so I left him take whatever he wanted upstairs and I headed to the library. Joseph was in the study with Isaac and Trisha, while Edward took a break from keeping Cristine at bay. I found him reading online, but he disconnected the tablet right away to talk with me.“What do you think is happening?”I shrugged and explained to him Brandon’s theory, about Cristine’s arrival being related to Ann’s departure.“So she’s part of the family?”“She may be. I think your brother Henry could’ve met her mother while he was serving in Paris. The dates sort of add up.”“You mean she’s my niece?”“I think so. The people at the Foundation deny having correspondence or financial records that would allow us to see if your brother was in contact with Cristine’s mothe
There was only one thing I loved more than falling asleep in Brandon’s arms, and that was waking up in his arms.It was awfully early, judging by the fading blue of the sky out my window, where I could still spot a couple of stars over the woods. Brandon was sound asleep. He had dared to remove one of his arms away from me, but only to hold my hand to his chest like he used to. I was wide awake, and I knew there was no way I could get out of bed without disturbing him. So I tried to go back to sleep. To no avail. I tried to sneak my fingers away from his soft grasp. If I managed to do it, I had a chance. I was about to make it when his hand pressed mine and his lips brushed my forehead.“Morning, kid,” he muttered, eyes still closed.Don’t ask me why, but hearing him call me that in this situation launched my romanticism through the roof. So no getting up yet. I had better things to do first. He didn’t fully wake up, he just let me
The traveling crews came back to Los Angeles for the holidays a couple of days later, and Brandon decided he felt brave enough to host a dinner for all of them at one of the restaurants they used to go to.It would be like his big comeback to society, leaving behind almost four months of reclusion and darkness. And to mark the occasion, he warned me that Cake had leaked the date and place to a few reporters.“Meaning my friends will be there?”“Guess so. The problem is that ban on you. I don’t want them to leave you out of the report. The other way around: I want everybody to know we’re together.”I looked up at him with a heartfelt sigh. But like it always happened over the last week, meeting his eyes focused on mine made me so happy, I couldn’t refuse. So I called Greta Arbosky, who said she would take care of letting them know about this one exception. I disconnected and faced him, raising my eyebrows.&
Against all odds, Brandon was the easiest, most complying patient in history. I think the scare of almost losing all his sight gave a whole new meaning to this opportunity to restore his eyes to full health. He never complained about the awful cream he had to apply directly on his eyeballs, he never missed drops or meds time, he slept on his belly, and kept his eye shields on around the clock.The first week was the hardest, of course, while he still wore the dressings. However, his determination to walk the line, no matter how hard, annoying or frustrating, helped us find our way around it faster than I’d ever expected. Just like the doctor had said, Brandon had been so stressed up over the last two or three weeks, he was plain exhausted, so he slept a lot over the first three days.My hovering tendencies kept me always within a few steps from wherever he was. At first, I thought he would soon get sick and tired of my relentless watch over him, but it was actual
I jumped to my feet when I heard Brandon move. His fingers flickered slightly and I covered his hand with mine, my heart hammering my chest. His head tilted a little toward me and his lips parted.“Hey,” I whispered. “Easy there.”He tried to speak and frowned.“It’s okay, Bran. The surgery worked alright.”He frowned deeper, trying to press my fingers. I took his hand to my lips to kiss it.“It worked, Bran,” I repeated, just in case. “You’re gonna be fine.”His shaky sigh told me he’d understood. His other hand came slowly up to brush the dressing covering his eyes.“That’s gonna stay there for a few days.”“Did it?” he mumbled, as his fingers explored the dressing further.“Yes, love. It worked. If we do what the doctor says, you’re gonna be fine in a few months. Maybe even better than before the inf
We woke up early the next morning. Brandon couldn’t have breakfast before surgery, but we were both too anxious to even feel any hunger. Cake arrived as we were coming down to the first floor, looking rested and ten years younger than the night before. On the way to the hospital, I took advantage of being alone in the backseat of the car to send a few texts. To Amy, to let her know I’d gotten to LA fine and everything was peachy. To Isaac, to let him know I was already in town, going with Brandon to the hospital, and I’d text him how the surgery had gone as soon as I found out. And finally to Harry, to ask him to remind Hugo to send all his light and all his angels to come lend a hand.“Who are you texting to?” asked the control freak from the passenger’s seat.“The press, obviously. Your NY Barbie and her gossiping friends will be waiting for us at the hospital.”He turned in his seat, frowning at me from behind h
I woke up at about three. Brandon was sound asleep, so much so that I was able to sneak between his arms without him even flinching. Back from the bathroom, I heard noises downstairs. Then I remembered the disaster zone the living area was when I’d come into the house. I got dressed and headed to the first floor, still trying to tie my hair in a ponytail.Guadalupe had arrived while we were upstairs, and her grin when she saw me threw me off. She and Cake had sort of cleaned up the living area, but the place still looked like the guys from A Clockwork Orange had dropped by to say hi. The kitchen was still a mess, with a lot of glass and smashed mugs all over the floor, wine and all kinds of things spilled on the floor. And when I say all kinds of things, I mean even mayonnaise. So I wore an apron, put on rubber gloves and set to clean up disaster zone number two.Guadalupe and Cake materialized in the kitchen, looking spooked. I faced them with
I had a glimpse of the whole living area completely trashed, like a hurricane had blasted through it, but I couldn’t care less. I rushed to the stairs and up to the second floor, to storm into the master bedroom. I froze just past the doorway. My heart, which was about to crack my chest open, suddenly stopped, and everything spun around me.Because Brandon was lying on his bed, unconscious, a bleeding cut on his forehead that had sprayed blood all over him. Cake was right by his side, lifting his limp legs up to the bed.“He tripped in the kitchen and hit his head with the isle,” Cake managed to say, panting after carrying Brandon all the way upstairs.I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.“Fran! Bring me a wet towel!”His shout made me snap out of my shock. I dropped my bag on the floor and ran around the bed to the bathroom, where I grabbed the first towel I
I sneaked out of the sleeping bag the moment Brandon left his seat.“Gina!” I called, crawling on all fours out of the tent.“What is it, Fran?”“Gina, I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay to come tomorrow night,” I said, wiping my tears away just to make room for more to rain down my face.“It’s okay, Fran. Don’t worry about us.”“Kujo protect,” he said, coming to stick to my side.“You guys sure?”“Yes. Go do what you have to do.”“Okay,” I mumbled, and got back into the tent to grab my phone.The first morning flight from Philadelphia International to LAX was scheduled to live after six AM. Shit. It was hardly past midnight. Whatever. Better late than never. I bought a ticket online, already doing the math. I could check in about five thirty, so I had to leave Pennhurst
Brandon walked across the Manor garden in the sunset, hands in his pockets, looking around absentmindedly as he spoke.“I had to watch the footage to actually remember what had happened, and her words shocked me. She called me a puppet. She knew what was going on. Back then, I only understood they wouldn’t let me get to her, especially when Isaac turned his back on me. I couldn’t believe it. He’d betrayed me! My best friend! How powerful could this demon be to turn the man who had been my best friend for the last twenty-five years against me? I was trapped, all alone. I might have to fight for my life.” He looked at the camera. “You must be wondering if I stayed. The answer is yes. Why?” He let out a bitter chuckle. “The truth is I have no idea.” He shrugged. “I was so out of my mind that night, I can count at least half a dozen reasons why I stayed. And none of them make any sense.”They cut back to the
“Here she comes,” Brandon said, his voice reflecting exactly the same as his face. “The little witch comes to protect the demon. Not this time.”I felt Kujo brush his face against mine and realized I was holding my breath, still shaking from head to toe. His warm touch helped me snap out of it.Brandon kept taunting and provoking Kujo until I got there, trying to burn him with his holy water. And then he’d come at me, triggering Kujo’s reaction. After Kujo attacked him, hurting me in the process, I saw him jump back to his feet and try to fight Kujo with his bear fists, punching through him like a madman, almost stomping on me, ‘cause I was pretty much unconscious at his feet. Amy stormed down the stairs as Isaac managed to pull him away from me, and forced the camera into his hands to carry me up the stairs in his arms, while Amy kept Brandon at a safe distance.“Kujo mad.”“But y