Con Artist Legacy

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Aftermath

Chapter Twenty-Four:  The Aftermath

The whirlwind of events inside the crypt was nothing compared to the chaos awaiting us when we got home. Elena was immediately buried in hugs and kisses from her parents, unintelligible squeals emitting from all three of them.

Taking advantage of the commotion, I eased my way out of the main hallway and attempted to sneak up to my room.  What would have been a clean exist, was interrupted by a very stoic Teresa blocking the stair case.

“You got Matthews shot.”

“Matthews got Matthews shot,” I answered.

“But it was your fault.”

“I’m pretty sure Sheriff Clark pulled the trigger.”

We stared at each other, neither willing to back down. I would’ve ignored her and simply walked towards the back staircase, but she knew where my room was. Seeking asylum in the secret passages would only provide limited reprieve, since I’d have to come out eventually.  

“Our actions have repercussions, Olivia.”

“I know.”

“I’m not sure that you do…someday you’ll have to lead the family business, and you need to be ready.”

“If you’re so worried, maybe Elena can do.”

“You need to grow up,” Teresa said. The corners of her mouth elevated slightly in a forced smile; it was the most ‘expression’ to ever grace her face.

I’d never been her favorite, but I knew my aunt was indifferent to Elena (and her parents). To her, they were all little children; a nuisance that she had to take care off.

“She’s a lot smarter than you give her credit for…and just because you don’t approve of the person I’ve become, doesn’t mean I need to change.”

Not wanting to deal with her anymore or risk the chance of running into my mother, I opted to turn around and head outside instead. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw my aunt actually smiling through the window’s reflection as I walked away.

* * * * * * * * * *

I’m not sure how it happened, but I somehow found myself standing in the middle of a transited hospital hallway. Hesitant of whether it was the right move (my aunt’s conversation had me questioning all my decisions…past and present), I stalled for as long as I could.

It was then I spotted Nate, his uniform wrinkled and his curly hair flying all over the place. His presence alone calmed my nerves and made me smile (it was comfortable). But before I could approach him to make fun of his frumpy and tired appearance, Elena walked up next to him.  

Her hair was up in a high bun, and her dress was a bright yellow. Not even an hour after being rescued, and she was already looking like her typical self. It appeared she was trying to get Nate to help her avoid a doctor visit, but he was siding with her concerned parents.

“Can I help you?” A tiny nurse had approached me, suspicion clouding her eyes. I suppose loitering in a hospital could seem shady to some people.

“I’m looking for my fiancé, Eric Matthews—“

“Aren’t you lucky?” Lust lingered in her voice, the nurse was one of many fooled by Matthews’s charm (and somewhat good looks).

She led me to a single room at the end of the hallway. Matthews slept peacefully; tubes connected to random parts of his body, a machine in the corner beeping softly.