Blizzard Girl ©

Chapter Twenty-Two:

And, getting to the Chateau was not at all awesome. Once Percival left my nicely dressed self somewhere in southern France, I immediately felt screwed. I was grateful I had the good sense to bring my bag with the flyer of the event. Oh, and that my French was decent enough to hold a basic conversation. 

A 100 euro cab ride later, and the cab driver had to stop. There was a road block before the dirt road that would lead me to the Chateau. I thanked the cab driver and approached the two security guards. 

"State your business," the older one said with a perfect French flair.

I rummaged through my bag and found the flyer for the event. "My name is Ventisca Turner and I have an invitation."

The flyer was sufficient enough as both security guards parted and let me pass them. The younger security guard said, "If you keep walking on the path, then you'll see the Chateau in half an hour."

Already as I passed the security guards with a curt nod, I saw the caravan of guests walking. Some of the ladies had flats like I thankfully did. While others, were leaning on their plus ones as they struggled with their heels sinking in the dirt. I almost giggled at the sight.

Which is why I had to look away and walked quickly towards a group of ladies walking in flats. As they chatted in French, I listened in. 

The lady in a black shimmery dress said, "Did you read what was in the papers about Jillian?"

The woman at her left wearing a silver caftan said, "Yes, I did. That Jillian was always an odd one. Not at all dignified as the rest of her family. If I were her older brothers, I would've left her behind bars."

Finally, the third woman right in front of me laughed. "Yes, where does this girl think leading on young men would end? She reminds me of her mother before she became Mrs. Dumont." All of them cackled at the same time while I frowned and let their voices fade away while I opted to walk behind an arguing couple. 

At least they were arguing among themselves instead of gossiping like those ladies were. Worst of all, those gossiping ladies seemed really nice. It's why I was behind them first. That moment would be one example among many; of not holding onto assumptions.

As the Chateau came into view, the husband said to his wife that they would continue talking about their problems when they got home. They used a myriad of cuss words to be just talking about it but c'est la vie.

At the front entrance of the chateau, the caravan came to a full stop at the foot of the stairs. Since standing all at the top as if on display was the Dumont family. Although, the only person I recognized was Jillian from the tabloid cover. Only today, she wasn't wearing such casual clothes. Instead, she had a dusky purple Grecian inspired gown. Even, her hair was curled to perfection and her warm smile mirrored her mother's. 

The man standing next to Mrs. Dumont had grey streaks at his temples, made even more prominent with his buzz cut. "Welcome all, to the Gala for Suicide Awareness," said Mr. Dumont in a jovial voice. "The theme of this gala was created from my wife. Who believes that loved ones lost in such a tragic way become stars which lights up our darkness. Join us tonight while we hope to reach the goal of raising 400,000 euro to open up a center for behavioral health."

The four young men who must've been Jillian's older brothers, opened the doors. 

The caravan started lining up as we neared closer to the front door. I had no idea why, until I noticed the foyer of the Chateau served as a checkpoint. It reminded me of TSA Agents at the U.S. airports. Only, instead of metal detectors, there was tables where more security guards were looking through people's bags.