Breaking Pierce

- 27

I notice how his voice has dropped low. I observe him, watching with ardent fascination as his face takes on a remorseful countenance. He traces the shape of the frame absently while his jaw hardens just a noticeable bit.

"Did you know them?" I ask him.

He shakes his head as if being pulled to the present by my words. When his eyes lock with mine, that ghost of a smile reappears.

"I did," he says. "They were...good friends of mine. It was tragic to see their fall. I wish Silas had come to me. I could have helped him."

"What happened to Silas then? Is he still around?"

His hand drops from the frame, fisting itself before he slides it back into his pocket. He straightens, broad shoulders taking a military posture. Darkness moves over his expression, just a flash of something wild before he relaxes.

"He's probably gone too. What does a man live for when he loses everything?"

A second chance? The words are on the tip of my tongue but I swallow them just in time. If Silas was his friend, then I don't wish to be the person who insults the memory of someone dear to him. After all the shit life has thrown at me, I find everyone else's grief selfishly less than my own.

"They were a lovely family..." Winston continues in that soft tone. "I remember them like it was just yesterday. Silas loved Caitlin. She was more than a decade younger than him but he loved her with such passion that one can only hope to be loved. It wouldn't be a surprise to know if her death had been the reason for his demise too. You see...Caitlin was a little broken, some say bipolar even...She committed suicide...in this very mansion, in the servants' quarters where Marcus placed her after the ownership shifted. I doubt Silas even knew that his wife was dead before long."

"Such a sad love story..." I comment, a dull ache beating in my heart as I imagine the grief of Silas.

I know from experience that the ones who are left behind suffer more than the dead.

"It is."

"What about this painting then? You said Marcus didn't keep any memory of them but this...this is the biggest painting in here I have seen so far."

"This?" Winston exhales, gazing up at the painting, looking right into Caitlin's eyes. She seems to be looking right back at him too, whispering things to him I can't hear. "I had this made...by this famous artist in Paris. Got it delivered seven years ago. I just wanted a memory of Silas with me...and what better than a picture of someone he loved with all his heart? I could have done with a photo but sadly, didn't find any."

"I see..." I hum in doubt.

That doesn't sound like the truth. If Silas had been his friend, why would he want a picture of his wife instead of their whole family?

"There you are!"

Winston and I both turn as footsteps stop a little far away from us. My heart races when I see Ryan there with his hands on his hips, giving me a frown as he looks between Winston and me. He has a bored look on him, a muscle ticking in a corner of his jaw. He breathes a little heavier like he just ran a mile to reach me. He rubs his jaw absently, the trimmed beard adding a dark layer to his handsome features.

"Ryan..." I exhale, feeling a sense of relief from seeing him. "I'm sorry. I lost my way while looking around with Reece. Winston found me loitering around."

"Nonsense!" Winston waves me off. "She wasn't loitering. Just admiring the paintings around."

Ryan drops his hands from his hips as he sighs. "I have been searching for you everywhere. C'mon...dinner's been set."