Grabbing hold of thetrainers, I straightened, closing the doors and turning back to theroom.
The place wasspotless. No indication of a struggle. No real indication thatanyone actually slept in here. The bed was neat and tidy. The smallamount of accessories on the vanity table seemed to all have aplace and position. For all I knew, it could have been days sinceHeather last slept in this room.
It wasn’t like Iexpected some item or note to be conveniently placed somewhereobvious that would scream “oh hey, just in case I’m missing, andyou need to find me, I’m …” No, a clue would have been way tookind and made everything way too easy.
I wandered back acrossthe room and out into the hallway, leaving the light on and thedoor wide open. I wasn’t sure why, but closing it felt weird.
I moved to the nextdoor situated on the left. I pushed it open. A hint of musk stirredin the air, indicating that I had just stepped into Sofia’sbedroom. I paused, unsure of whether I should even bother lookingin the room, but just standing there seemed as close as I was goingto get to being near my aunt one last time. The right place to saya proper goodbye.
Turning on the light,I remained in the doorframe. Taking even half a step into the roomseemed like a huge invasion of privacy despite how idiotic thethought was. Her room seemed more personal than Heather’s, but thenagain, she had lived a decently long life and had a collection oftrinkets and artwork that she had collected over the years.
As my eyes trippedover her belongings, memories began to surface. Just flashes of thefew times I would be allowed into her bedroom when she lived withmy parents and me. I had always found her jewellery box and perfumebottles interesting—they seemed very elegant and from a classiertime.
Now, they almostlooked like relics. A fine layer of dust clung to all herbelongings. I was sure that if I picked any of the items up, thespace beneath would be perfectly clean and framed by the dirt thatsurrounded it.
It was obvious thatHeather hadn’t been in this room, most likely since Sofia hadpassed away. Everything had been left as is, last touched by myaunt and no one else. A shiver raced down my spine. It was almostlike looking at a shrine.
I felt as though I wasstanding in a tomb. Everything was preserved.
“I’m so sorry, Sofia,”I whispered, flicking the light off and closing the door behind me.I pressed my head against the wood and sighed. “I’m sorry weweren’t there to say goodbye.”
My mother wasright—Sofia hadn’t wanted anyone at her funeral other than Heather.We couldn’t understand her reasoning for it, but we had respectedher dying wishes. However, we should have been there for Heather.It wasn’t fair of Sofia to want her to go through all of this onher own. Grief had a way of affecting people in strange ways. Mymother said Heather had sounded fine every time they spoke, but mysecond cousin had been trained to hide her urges and feelings. Icould only hope that Heather hadn’t gone and done somethingstupid.
Turning, I glanced atthe final two doors; I reached across and opened the one directlyacross the way, pulling the cord that swayed in the dark. A pop asthe light came on, followed by the gentle hum of the fan.
The bathroom was smalland pleasant, your standard bathroom, but it was by far the roomthat was the most cluttered. A variety of colourful bottledproducts sat in a shower caddy and in the narrow shelving unit,along with towels and even a first aid kit.
I left the light on sothat Nathan would automatically move toward it when he finally cameupstairs. I didn’t like the idea of him walking straight into myaunt’s room, even if it would be by mistake.
The last room was atthe opposite end of the hallway facing Heather’s room. I pushed thesilver handle down with some effort, for the mechanism felt stiff.Using my shoulder, I put my weight on the panel and shoved againstthe awkward barrier. It took a few tries, but finally, the doorfell open. I caught hold of the frame before I fell headfirstthrough the gap.
My nose wrinkled. Theair was a lot staler in here, and although the room was dark due tolack of daylight and electricity, it seemed blacker; crowded, andfull. I sought out the light switch only for my hand to hitsomething solid.
I flicked the hallwaylight on and opened the door as wide as it would allow me to, whichhad to be about a foot before the wood hit something behind it. Ipressed my back against the door, managing to gain a couple moreinches. Staying flat against the wood, I allowed the hallway lightinto the room—boxes upon boxes, stacks upon stacks, from floor toceiling, filled the room.
Taking my mobile frommy jacket pocket, I tapped the torch option and slid inside. Imoved my phone around, the pale white light confirming that thedoor wouldn’t budge any further due to more stacks of boxes piledbehind it. I had about a couple of feet to move around in, and thatwas it. The room was jam-packed.
I stared at theominous fort of cardboard. I couldn’t recall Sofia and Alexiscoming to us with many belongings nor did I remember Heather andSofia having much that they needed to bring back with them. Yet,this room seemed to have enough in here to indicate an entire housemove.
I paused as the lightfrom my phone illuminated a word scribbled in black felt-tip on theside of one of the boxes.
A chill crawled downmy spine at the sight of the name that accompanied
