Chapter 57 A house full of ghosts
CHAPTER 57: A house full of ghosts
Chauncey
I watched Vera sink back into the velvet-cushioned chair, her movements stiff and jerky. It was very obvious that she was nervous. I couldn't blame her. This morning had been too much.
The sheer, vibrating nerves radiating off her was so palpable, that my brow furrowed in genuine bafflement.
She struggled with making a conscious effort to avoid looking in my direction.
Closely watching her right now, this fragile, wide-eyed creature who looked as though a sharp word might shatter her, it was impossible to reconcile her image with the cold, dark reality of what I now knew she had done.
I wondered, not for the first time, how someone who looked and acted so remarkably innocent was capable of hitting and leaving a human being to die on the asphalt.
“Vera, for heaven’s sake, breathe,” I said, my voice intentionally soft, lacking the jagged, razor-edged bite I was sure she heard from her husband all the time. “This is not an interrogation.”
She may be guilty of a crime, but she was still a pregnant woman.
“Don’t get yourself so worked up. It isn’t good for you, and it certainly isn't good for the baby.”
She clasped her hands together in her lap, finally managing to meet my eye.
“How are you feeling? I haven't been able to check up on you since the last time.” My gaze dropped to her stomach. “How is the baby?”
Surprisingly, a tiny bit of the rigid tension ebbed away from her shoulders, her breath hitching as she looked at me with cautious surprise.
“I... I'm okay. Just a bit of morning sickness. But the doctor said the baby is not in immediate danger anymore. But, I'm taking it easy. Doctor’s advice,” she added.
I nodded, slowly.
“Thank you for asking. Truly.”
I realised it then.
She was searching for a friend in a house full of ghosts, and for a moment, I felt the urge to provide her one. I had always had something of a soft spot or protectiveness for her.
But I couldn't close my eyes to what I saw and now know.
My gaze flickered towards the door where Claudia had walked out a few moments ago.
“I’m sure you’ve already deduced it from Claudia's little performance, but Sam is Simone’s sister,” I stated flatly, despite the tightness that wrapped around my chest at the mention of that name again.
I watched her eyes widen.
“And I know you’re quite well-acquainted with that name by now. There’s no point dancing around the issue—”
“You know,” she said.
“I know everything. Silas told me about the hit-and-run. He showed me the…the video.”
The effect was immediate. She froze.
I don't think I had ever seen a human immediately become awash with a deep suffocating wave of shock and shame before.
She looked as though she had been stripped bare in the middle of the room, her gaze dropping to her lap.
For some reason, my mind conjured up the memories of the first day I met her at the club, and I wondered how we got here.
“I... I am so sorry for all the pain I have caused your family,” she whispered, her voice cracking, sounding hollow and small against the vastness of the dining hall. “I swear I didn't... I never meant for any of this to happen. If I could take it back, I would. I think about it every second of every day. If I could go back—”
“I’m not really the one you should be apologizing to, Vera,” I interrupted, leaning back and crossing my arms as I studied the way she seemed to shrink.
Simone and I had been kind of close, but the pain and grief I felt at her passing could never compare to the way Silas’s world came crashing down.
However, I had no doubt that he'd neither listen to, nor accept any apologies she rendered.
He was set in his ways. Nonetheless that scene we had walked into in their bedroom this morning, seemed off to me.
“But listen to me carefully. Even if you have committed a crime against my brother…against this family, I don’t subscribe to self vendetta. I won’t support my brother to hurt you or take laws into his hands.”
I saw her look up, a flicker of genuine, startled gratitude shining through her glassy eyes.
I knew Silas’s rage. But I also knew that my brother would never cross the line. He'd never hurt a woman…a pregnant woman.
“I’ve always believed in letting the law handle transgressors, not personal cruelty or private dungeons.”
She shook her head frantically.
“No it's nothing like that. He's not hurting me,” she said quickly.
I stared at her, trying to discern if she was lying, but I didn’t feel she was.
The concern and fear I didn't even realise was weighing on my mind dissipated.
“You... you don't hate me?” She asked in a small voice.
“I’m disappointed, Vera. But I'm not a judge,” I replied. “I don't think it matters at this point what I feel…or think.”
Her face deflated further, and her shoulders hunched.
“Even if I know my brother would never actually lay a hand on you, his mind can be a very dark place.” I sighed. “Always remember that. And also you can talk to me if you ever have reason to feel otherwise.”
She nodded.
Silence stretched between.
The maid came and cleared the dishes away. Once again, we were left alone.
“And as for Claudia... don’t let her thorns prick you too deeply,” I began in a softer tone. “I promise she isn’t bad once you look past her madness. I think the two of you might actually get along, provided you give it time.”
She looked like she didn't believe a word I said, and also as though she wanted to ask a thousand questions, but one was written clearly on her face.
I answered it before she could find the courage to speak.
“No, Vera. Claudia doesn’t know. I doubt Silas will tell her given that she's quite close to Sam.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief, a soft, trembling “thank you” escaping her.
I let the moment settle, the air growing heavy again, then I leaned forward.
“But there is something else, Vera,” I said, my expression hardening into something more serious. “I need to talk about your friend, Cherry.”