The Cabin

Chapter 43

It didn't seem to be hurrying and the emergency lights and sirens hadn't been turned on, so she had to assume whatever had happened hadn't been too bad. She wondered if it was Simon or Melanie who had needed medical attention. Perhaps it had been Sam. What she was most certain of was whatever had happened had to have been caused by the spirits in the house. Quiet conversations broke out amongst the musicians, everyone speculating on what could have happened while they were away.

Another set of headlights approached, garnering everyone's full attention. They all assumed it had to be Simon or Sam, following the emergency vehicle to the hospital. The quiet soon erupted into panic as the vehicle came fully into view, revealing a sleek, black hearse.

---

Simon sat alone in the laundry room, his back resting against the wall and his arms wrapped over his knees as he stared at the spot on the floor Melanie had occupied only an hour earlier. He could hear the faint sound of some of the girls crying upstairs. They were inconsolable. He couldn't face them, knowing he was responsible for Melanie's death. He had excused himself, wanting to be alone, and slinked back down to the basement.

Melanie was right, it had been his fault. He had failed her. She had been thrust into the spotlight and immediately criticized and picked apart, and all he had done was add more pressure and forced her to continue on with a smile on her face. He had thrown her to the wolves, completely unprepared and had taken away what she would have had for a support system.

They were a force as a group and it was difficult as their manager to keep them reigned in and under control. He had separate rules for each of them to follow, creating a subtle hierarchy in an attempt to keep them in line. He had allowed the girls, even convinced them on occasion, to pick at each other, to self-police one another, and he tried to keep them somewhat separated in their downtime in order to maintain some control. He had started booking vacations for them, ensuring they were apart. The less time they had to communicate with one another outside of work about how things were being run, the less chance they would fight back. If there was an underlying doubt about their friendship with one another and a lack of trust, they wouldn't work together to demand things be changed.

They were much easier to sway individually. He made himself the father figure, the one they could talk to when they couldn't talk to one another – made them feel as though they couldn't always go to one another. He made them feel safe and like he had things under control, that he was the one they could turn to for support. He wanted them to believe no one else could help them like he could. It wasn't meant to be vindictive, just a subtle way of holding some power with a group he knew he wouldn't be able to keep under control otherwise.

He had taken it too far.

He dropped his head, unable to stop picturing Melanie hanging from the joist above him. He had driven her to madness. He had put his job and his paycheque before her well-being. He had sent her off the edge.

"Murderer!"

Simon flinched and looked up to see who was in the room with him. He expected to see one of the girls, prepared himself to be screamed at.

But no one was there.

"Hello?" he croaked, leaning forward to look into Melanie's room.

"Simon?"

He broke into a cold sweat.

His heart racing, he got to his feet and walked slowly into Melanie's room. The door to the staircase was closed. He was the only one in the basement. He could still hear everyone mourning upstairs.

Had he heard someone call him from upstairs?

No. Listening to the voices upstairs, they were muffled and it was difficult to make out what anyone was saying. The voice he had heard had been so clear.