Chapter 4: My Suspicions
A woman entered, elegant and poised. Dressed in a regal attire, her presence radiating command. She looked younger than her age, but her aura carried the weight of power.
Lady Bishop, Nathan’s mother who is also known as the queen. She claims the same authority Nathan had. “Is this the new help?” She asked, her voice cool, but her eyes swept over me with disdain.
“Yes, Mother,” Nathan replied. “She lies, but at least she does it politely.”
On hearing that, Lady Bishop’s lips tightened into a thin and displeasing line. “Keep her away from the east wing,” she ordered. Nathan’s gaze darkened in accordance to her instructions.
“Mother, I’ve already warned her. If she does that,then she will have herself to blame”
Their eyes met again. An unspoken duel, more like a tension passed between them crackling like a storm about to break as if sealing the agreement between them. Then, at a swift glance, her attention shifted to me.
“Look, you’re pretty,” She said, her tone like ice. “But do not confuse usefulness with importance. This house has swallowed girls far better than you. Don’t make yourself the next scapegoat.”
This house has swallowed more beautiful girls than you. Don't make yourself the next scapegoat. I recalled her words again.
What does that mean? Am I entering into death or something close to torture? Wait are they killers?
Shivers ran down my spine. She couldn't even wait to see the confusion and fear enveloping my face. She turned, her heels echoing sharply across the marble floor as she exited.
The next three days blurred into relentless routines, scrubbing, serving, watching and learning more about the ‘Bishops’. I learned fast, but Nathan’s moods were mercurial. Just like one moment, he ignored me and the next, he dragged me into conversations that felt more like interrogations.
One day, I glimpsed him standing in the garden, silhouetted against the stars. His face etched with questions as he seemed to be bothered by something. I felt like going closer to him to ask what keeps him so lost in thought, but I couldn't. How I hated to see him bothered, but I don't want to feel pity for him right now besides he treats and trapples my care for him as if it was nothing.
Above all, another thought that haunts me the most was the east wing. The black double doors loomed before whenever I passed it. It hums with invisible tension, and at night, one could hear faint whispers crying through the walls with footsteps and muffled sobs from the east wing. Curiosity gnawed at me as I couldn't wrap my head around all these. One evening, I gathered the courage to ask Janie, a fellow maid, as we headed to our quarters that evening.
“Do you know what’s in the east wing?” I enquired curiously.
To my shock, her face and mood shifted to what I didn't expect. Immediately she responded. “Don’t ask me.” I felt she also knew about it and felt the same way I felt about the east wing.
“But I just…”
“Please don’t ever ask me that again.” She cut in as she dropped the glass in her hand, and it shattered across the tiles.
Janie had always been cold to me ever since I set foot into the Bishops' mansion. Her disdain increased whenever Nathan called me for tasks, but this particular reaction today sliced deeper than any of her glares. It wasn’t just anger. It was clearly envy. But why is she envious of me? Besides, I had nothing to do with Nathan. Or is there something I should know she is not telling me?
That night I saw something terrible.
“You are not Elena Cruz. Leave before the Bishop family consumes you.”
I jerked up, gasping for breath. My eyes darted across the room. No one was there. The silence was thick and smothering. I held my chest and heaved a sigh of relief, then I realised, It was a dream.
Still brainstorming on the voice I had in the dream. My eyes skittering around the room, I saw a sheet of paper laying on the center of my bed, untouched, as though it had materialized from the air itself.
My hands shook slightly as I reached for it. Still petrified, I unfolded it. The handwriting was jagged and rushed as it wrote. “Leave here or you will die.”
What?
My heart pounded violently. The walls felt closer to me. Who could have placed this here? Is anyone after my life? The air around me hummed with unseen presence, heavy and electric. I sensed danger at its peak. At the heat of the moment, my phone buzzed, breaking the silence of the room.
I breathed so fast as I rushed forward to my phone with my chest heaving. I held the piece of paper tightly in my hands as the caller ID flashed across the screen.
Mother!
My breath caught as my mind flashed back at the message in the letter I saw on my bed. I hope my mother is safe at this point.
“Mother?”
I picked the call immediately, pressing the phone to my ear and clutched my chest to steady my pounding heart.
“Cl.. Clara…” My mother's faint voice came through the phone cracked with pain. Each of her words trembled with suffering.
“Clara. It is getting worse…I can’t breathe.” She said, as a harsh cough tore through her voice, shredding my heart.
I responded with my blood boiling, trying to calm her down. “Please Mother, don’t talk again. Save your strength. I’ll find the money and I’ll fix this.” I cut in as tears blurred my eyes, burning hot trails down my cheeks.
“The nurse says I'll be needing stronger medicine. Without it I’ll…”
Her voice faltered.
“You’ll what?” I screamed, with my eyes wide open, desperate and terrified, but her silence answered me.
“Mother?”
No answer came through.
“Mother!” It was silent again. I cried, gripping the phone until my knuckles turned white.
“Momma, don’t leave me,” I whispered in gripping pain to the silent phone, breaking and pleading. The call ended on my ears.
Why are all these coming now? No, not again. Not my mother.
“I swear I’ll get the money. Mother please just hold on for me.” I spoke to the empty air in the room wishing it could send my message to my mother.
My sobs ripped my chest. I sank onto the cold floor, one hand clenching the warning note, the other gripping the phone, both like a storm threatening to drown me.
Two threats in one night?
My pulse thundered in my ears, my body shaking against the marble floor as the walls of the Bishop's mans
ion seemed to lean closer to me mockingly.
Why me? Why are all these coming to me all at once?
