#11 IN ACTION
(PARIS)
Buried deep below the everyday life of our society lives a world of nightmares-of violence and murder no one dares speak about. It is called the Sinner's Society.
In the murky waters of Chicago's underworld I'm arranged to marr...
Song of the Chapter: Lullaby of Woe - Ashley Serena
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Back at the mansion I whisk fat-free sour cream, brown sugar, 2 tablespoons of amaretto liqueur and fresh strawberries, hulled and halved in a bowl. Then in the den, watching The Polar Express, Ash, Jazz, Oliver devours it, while I nibble. I hardly concentrate on the movie. Million miles away, my mind spinning around with the images of Nine Circle carving and the rustic door. What was it? Was it some sort of awareness? It almost felt like a moment of hallucination. Something behind the door drugging my senses and calling to me?
By the time movie nears the end Oliver is sprawled out like a dead thing, sound asleep beside me.
I can only assume it is naptime.
Being the ever-conscientious parent, I quietly call Matilda— from everywhere she hides when she isn't doing her nanny job and Oliver is under my care— and watch as she gently scoops the kid into her sturdy arms, and carries the boy out of the den.
After that it's all quiet.
Jazz and Ash continues to watch the movie and I try to be mentally present with them. When the movie ends Jazz announces she has an evening shift at the animal hospital and Ash announces she has to work on her thesis. They both leave for their room, that's Ash private quarter on the other side of the wing and I take myself to my husband after a long day of parenting.
I'm wandering through the Great Hall when an icy breeze flutters my hair on the back and chills soaks along my spine through the sweater. I stop abruptly beside the Christmas tree, listening to a quiet, unfamiliar noise, and feel the tiny hair rise on the back of my neck. I pivot on my heels as my hand goes to my nape and I scuttle few steps towards the vestibule door to see if the front door is open.
Nope. The front double doors are closed keeping the winter outside and only one mean-looking dude is sitting on a chair at guard by the doors.
The dude sees me and nods. I return a forced smile before moving away from the line of sight lest he caught my expression and becomes alert.
What the hell?
Just a dumb old house, I tell myselfwalking back towards the Jacobean stone screen. And then, quickly, before I get too scared, scurry my way to Alex's office.
