Gothick

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Goldstein announced Annabelle Alexandria Ritter's death on 28 November 1889 at 21:13. Siegfried clung to Anna until the coroner finally took her away. Dominick clutched the banister, his face rigid and ashen. His eyes searched the room, from Siegfried to the five cloaked corpses about the room. Emma felt dizzy, and her body numb.

After Anna's body had been taken, Siegfried kneeled where they found him, gazing at the spot she once rested. Goldstein assaulted him with a barrage of questions, but Siegfried remained unresponsive. After an hour passed, Agnes walked into the room. She asked Siegfried what happened.

He replied with three words.

"The Gothick Führer."

Emma's knees buckled. Thoughts flooded her mind, but she let them slide away. Anything to keep the numbness. Anything to keep emotion from welling in. It hovered over her like a tidal wave, and if it came crashing down, Emma knew that it would be the end of her.

Silence engulfed Emma when she shut her bedroom door. She barely even remembered walking there. She stood in the darkness, leaning back. The room was just like she left it-bed made, closet shut, snow collecting on the windowsill. If things were the same, then surely Anna was still alive? It was a ridiculous notion, Emma knew. Yet, it was one she couldn't fully shake.

The sound of her shoes felt too loud on the floor; too wrong. Emma sat on the bed, watching specks of white fall outside. Cry, she kept telling herself. If she would cry then everything would seem better. But she couldn't.

Emma fell back, sliding her arm beneath the pillow. Her fingers brushed something smooth. She pulled it out and held it up to the moonlight, revealing a vial of clear liquid. She stared at it for several seconds.

Heat sprung up within Emma's chest, spreading throughout her until collecting in her head. She had been a fool to trust Leon. He was a monster who killed for his own goals. They were all puppets to him. She shrieked as she threw the vial across the room. It clattered against her vanity, and then rolled off onto the floor.

She slumped back and lay in bed for hours, watching the snow fall and the moon descend. The more Emma thought, the more she realized the horrible truth-

All of this was her fault.

Things weren't much better when she woke. Sunlight crept into her room, feeling like the light of a new age. When Emma first opened her eyes, she told herself that it had all been a horrible dream. Though, she realized that it wasn't so simple. The house suddenly felt empty and lifeless. She kept expecting to hear Anna's laughter drifting down the hall, or smell her cooking wafting through the corridors.

The air was stale.

Emma suddenly felt the compulsion to pass her friend's room throughout that day, only she didn't know what room Anna had stayed in. Everything suddenly felt heavier. She walked, until she found herself standing in front of Nan's door. Emma stood there for a moment, just looking at the dark wood door, before finally deciding to knock.

"Yes?" Nan's muffled voice came through the door. Emma turned the handle, and cracked the door open.

"Do you have a moment?" Emma said.

"Of course," Nan said. Emma opened the door a little wider. "For you, I have all the time in the world."

Nan raised as Emma entered, her wrinkled face grimacing from the strain. Her pallor looked livid and pasty. She sat there for a moment, huffing as she regained her breath. Emma hovered over her, as though, at any moment, the old woman would pass out. After a couple of minutes, Nan's breathing returned to normal, and though her face remained white, it lost its sweaty sheen.

"I'm sorry if I woke you..."

"You didn't," Nan said. "I haven't been able to sleep."

"Neither have I...You've heard about Anna then?"

Nan sighed and her eyes became glassy.

"How could I not have," she said, her voice faint. "It's hard to believe, isn't it? I watched that girl grow up. Never did I think I would see her buried." Again, Emma nodded. She wanted to tell Nan everything-about her relationship with Leon. She wanted to be held accountable, for others to hate her. Anything would be better than this silence.

"It's my fault..." Nan said, her voice thick and heavy. Nan turned her head toward the window, yet Emma still saw her lip quiver.

"No," Emma said, taking Nan's hand into her. "You had nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I'm afraid I did, dear," Nan said, voice shaking. "We heard a noise inside the manor. She said that she would have a look. If I had told her no-to stay with me..." Emma wrapped her arms around the woman. Nan buried her face into Emma's shoulder, tears dampening the sleeve of her dress. Emma brushed her fingers through Nan's hair, focusing on each gray strand.

"It's not your fault," Emma said, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. "You didn't know."

"It's my job to protect them," Nan said. "I can't even do that anymore."

Emma cooed to Nan, rocking her lightly back and forth. The two women sat in the bed in silence, only broken now and again by Nan's sobs. Emma stared out the window, overlooking the white, deserted courtyard, and wondering when this storm would end.

Dominick couldn't bare going to the wake. Part of Emma was relieved. Now, more than ever, she wanted nothing more than be alone. Seeing Anna's round face, now pale and surrounded in a halo of flowers-something tugged in Emma, yet it didn't cause the surge of emotion she had been waiting for. Perhaps, it was better that way.

As the procession moved to NördlingenCemetery, Dominick finally gathered the strength to return.

A mound of dirt already stood before Anna's tombstone. Emma watched the procession-a small group of twenty-step aside. Dominick, Siegfried, Fredrick, and Agnes carried Anna's casket. Dominick kept his head down, so that the rim of his top hat fell over his face. Fredrick walked with his head up, eyes sparkling with tears. He clutched a cane with his other hand. Agnes's wrinkled face remained firm and unblinking beneath her black veil. Siegfried stood over the former three, his blue eyes dark and sunken, as though he hadn't slept for days. His lips stretched into a thin grimace.

Again, something tugged in Emma. She forced the feeling aside.

She wouldn't cry.

The four lowered the casket on ropes stretched across the grave's opening. Its pine finish looked somewhat out of place to Emma in the snow. A priest broke from the crowd, and he stood over the casket and opened his Bible. Sobs filled the graveyard. A gentle wind drifted through, carrying with it the frigid cold.

It wasn't until past midday that the services finished. Emma still stood in a sort of daze, gazing into Anna's plot without even seeing anything. Dominick's voice broke her from her trance.

"Come along, Emma. Mustn't keep Nan waiting."

Emma's eyes lingered for a second more, and then as if pulling away from some force, she turned around. Dominick kept talking. Their footsteps, the crunch of snow, Dominick's words-it was all one to her. She nodded every few minutes; what more could she do?

Dominick walked over to Siegfried, who still stood staring into Anna's grave. She noticed that there was a detached quality about him, as though his mind weren't there.

"Old man," Dominick said, standing next to Siegfried.

"I've fought all these years," Siegfried said lamentably to no one in particular. "I made sure she was safe..." Dominick opened his mouth. "You were supposed to keep her safe." Dominick's complexion went livid. He backed away toward Emma, coughing fiercely. Emma played with the lace of her dress as the two left the cemetery, leaving Siegfried behind.