The Letter

Tires screeched. Crash! A lone hubcap rolls across the yellow lines on the asphalt. Shards of glass and metal scatter from the force of the collision. Smoke rises from the crumpled hood of a black Porsche Cayman; the driver's side squashed like a tin can. Pressed into the steering wheel of the smashed luxury car was Aaron Ignacio. A steady stream of blood flowed from the cuts on his torso and a gash on his head. His eyes opened; lifeless.

Raven shot up from her sleep. Her throat constricted, she struggled to breathe. Her chest ached. She was in the midst of a panic attack. Reaching out to no one, she tried to stand up but felt lightheaded. She slumped back down against the rounded edges of the daybed.

I just need to breathe, she told herself. Her eyes watered. Clutching her hands to stop the trembling, she closed her eyes, mentally counting to twenty until the tightness in her chest subsided and her breathing calmed. She gritted her teeth with irritation. I thought the nightmares would end.

She looked out the window at the tranquil scene like a postcard. The birds chirped from their nests their morning song. The white flowers from the dogwood trees swayed in the light breeze. Did I make the wrong choice coming here? My nightmares have only intensified.

She didn't want to second guess herself. She left the city behind to start over. She hoped that in time the nightmares would end and she could finally sleep peacefully.

Her sleep chased away by the nightmare and now wide awake, she pondered what to do. She stood up and slipped on her tennis shoes that she kept near the base of the daybed. She was not about to walk across the dirty floor barefoot.

She picked up the pail she'd placed by the bare walls after scrubbing them down the night before. She'd found it while examining the barn near the ranch. She wasn't sure what to do with the barn. Keep it? Tear it down? She wasn't a farmer. 

 She dismissed those thoughts for the time being. Her main concern was the hidden room. She was anxious to learn what was inside. Patience was never one of her strongest virtues.

In desperate need of a relaxing bath, she exited her room and headed down the hall to the closest bathroom. 

A simple bathroom she didn't want to make too many unnecessary changes to it. She liked the Victorian bathtub that had been there for as long as she can remember as well as the marble tiling. The flowered wallpaper, however, definitely had to go.

Putting on a pair of house cleaning gloves, she leaned over the oval copper tub and turned the knob. Dribbling for a few moments, a gush of water rushed out. Grabbing a new sponge that she sat on the faucet, she scrubbed the dirt and grime away until it shined like a new penny.

Satisfied, she put in the stopper and adjusted the water temperature to her liking. Pouring in a bit of bubble bath, she discarded the house cleaning gloves, disrobed, climbed into the tub, and settled in the foams. Sighing, she leaned against the edge and closed her eyes. It was quiet. No sounds of traffic, loud music, or sirens. Just peaceful silence.

Until a loud knock at the door took her out of her serenity.

"Hold on a second!" She yelled, clamoring out of the tub, nearly falling flat on her face on the slick marble tiles. She grabbed her robe as the knocking continued. "I'm coming! Hold your horses!"

Grumbling, she wrapped her robe around herself and hurried to the door her efforts stalled by jumping over the tarps and paint cans in her way.

Finally, making her way to the door, she opened it with a bit of force. "What is it?" she said. "Good morning, Ms. Raven," Finch said, trying to suppress an amused grin.