The days dragged on, heavy and slow. Stacker left the prison walls; it wasn't surprising, after all, he was Tig's son and the scion of a family that bought influence with gold, so it was only natural that his time behind bars wouldn't be long. But he returned with a strange demeanor. He completely ignored me, passing by me as if I were an invisible ghost. At the lunch table, he would fix his gaze on his plate, avoiding even a glance in my direction. I don't know if it was anger at my mother's actions that landed him in prison, or resentment for breaking the rules and causing trouble for everyone.
As for my mother and her husband, the clouds of discord between them dissipated with alarming speed. It seemed as though he had bewitched her, making her fall in love with him all over again. She forgot all her pain in seconds and returned to accompanying him to parties, living the life of a teenager as if nothing had happened.
I was left alone, a prisoner of my medical treatment and the chapters of my novel, occasionally wasting time with Jana, the maid's daughter. Our conversations were superficial and filled with idle chatter, often revolving around her blatant infatuation with Stacker.
Amidst this stagnation, I learned from the dull family gatherings that a huge party was planned for the end of the month: My mother and Tiji's marriage announcement. My mother's condition for reconciliation was that their marriage be made public, that they emerge from secrecy with a lavish celebration at the mansion.
So, today I found myself on a shopping trip with Jana, the only girl I might seem close to, or perhaps the only innocent soul in that cursed mansion. We were choosing dresses, and our tastes differed; she favored Miami-style dresses and the tight Brazilian style that accentuated her beautiful dark skin and attractive curly hair. I wished I could wear something similar, but my short haircut at the hospital made me look for a different style.
While we were in the middle of choosing, my phone suddenly rang. I excused myself: "Excuse me... I'll be right back."
I stepped back to the corner of the shop, where a huge glass window overlooked the street. I held up the phone: "Hello...? Who is this?" But there was only silence.
As I tried to make out who was calling, my blood ran cold. It was him! The same man I'd seen the day I left the hospital, standing there watching me with his unwavering, murderous gaze. Coincidence was no longer an acceptable explanation; his posture confirmed that he was following me, that he wanted something from me.
Fear gripped me, and I turned quickly, calling out, "Jana...come here for a moment!"
"Coming..." she answered from inside.
The moment I looked back at the glass, he was gone. His figure vanished in an instant. The streets of Edinburgh were almost deserted, a light drizzle was falling, and the shops were closed. There was nowhere for him to hide, no crowd to disappear into, and yet...he had vanished.
"What's wrong?" Jana asked, approaching with surprise. She saw the worry and distress clearly etched on my face, so I tried to regain my composure and patted her shoulder, saying in a trembling voice, "Nothing... really, nothing."
After hours of shopping, we returned home as the first rays of sunset fell, laden with more than just dresses. The car was overflowing with party decorations, boxes of books, and countless other items that required considerable effort from the butler to unload.
"I'll take the paintings and flowers to the storage room and be right back," Jana said, balancing some heavy furniture in her hands. Then she turned to the butler and said, "Daniel, go to my mother and get me the key."
"Stop, Daniel," I interrupted them firmly. "Help her carry these things; they're too heavy for her. I'll take care of the key."
I headed to the kitchen, looking for Jana's mother, but everyone I asked pointed to the back garden. I went out there and switched on the pool lights, which shimmered coolly on the water. I peered into the shadows of the dense trees swallowed by the darkness, but there was no sign of her.
My curiosity—or perhaps fate—led me to venture deeper. I crossed the boundaries of the manicured garden and reached the edge of the forest nestled behind the palace. Despite knowing full well that this place was strictly forbidden to everyone, I ventured a little further, hoping she might be there.
As I turned to leave, my feet froze. My gaze caught a glimpse of a strange red light emanating from afar, in the heart of the dark forest. It wasn't a single light, but a cluster of lights emanating from the ground, aligned with eerie geometric precision to form a triangle, or perhaps a five-pointed star.
I held my breath and peered intently, revealing the terrifying sight: red candles burning in the dead of night.
I stood there like a spy stalking her own death, clutching the cold corner of the wall, my eyes filled with apprehension as I watched the distant scene. My phone suddenly vibrated, announcing a message from Jana: "Stop looking. I've found my mother, and I have the key now…"
Before I could turn off the screen, my eyes fell on the date: Saturday.
At that moment, memories flooded my mind like a torrent. I remembered Custer's words on my first day, when he said that Sauntra knelt every Saturday in the cemetery. The threads in my mind became entangled in a hellish way: those lights, Saturday, the funereal atmosphere… it must be her, performing her rituals above the graves.
I found myself once again facing the same conflict; my mind urging me to break the law, my heart screaming at me to flee. But curiosity was stronger than the instinct for survival; I had to know what that old hag was doing above the heads of the dead. I advanced with a quick, faint trot, carefully treading the grass until I reached a thick bush, which I used as cover.
From behind the branches, the view became clearer and more gruesome. Sauntra was kneeling before a single grave, distinguished from the others by its regal grandeur; an ornate tomb resembling a throne in its solemnity and death. Red candles around her formed an intricate six-pointed star, and in her hands lay an ancient book that smelled of time. Suddenly, she pulled a transparent bag from her pocket, filled with a crimson liquid. I didn't need extraordinary intelligence to realize it was blood.
I stifled a scream of terror that threatened to escape my lips and covered my mouth with trembling hands. I watched her sip a little blood without swallowing it, then approach the first candle and spit the blood onto its flame, extinguishing it. She moved on to the second, then the third, until the place was plunged into total darkness after she had extinguished all six candles with her blood.
The ritual ended, and she picked up her book and began walking with her usual haughty gait out of the forest, blood still dripping from the corners of her mouth in a truly chilling sight.
I shrank even further, sitting on the grass, my forehead drenched in cold sweat. I felt my breath fading as it drew closer to my hiding place; terror gnawed at my heart at the thought of her spotting me, of my body becoming a corpse next to that royal tomb.
As I lay lost in my terrified silence, trying to stifle my sobs, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps crunching through the dry grass right behind me.
I turned around in a panic that froze the blood in my veins, only to be met by the innocent eyes of a black cat that had been playing behind me. I exhaled my pent-up breath, a shaky smile gracing my lips, before gathering my composure and stepping toward the graves. I don't know if it was courage or folly, but in this palace, both lead to the same fate: death.
The closer I got to that royal tomb, the more pungent and repulsive the stench became. I put my hand to my nose in disgust; it was clear that Sauntra repeated her bloody ritual every Saturday without bothering to clean it up, leaving the blood to accumulate and fester under the weight of time, spreading the stench of death throughout.
Ignoring the nausea, I fixed my gaze on the tombstone, and that's when my legs gave way and I froze in place. The letters, carved with solemnity and artistry into the cold stone, spoke his name: **"Joseph"**.
The world spun around me; So Caster was right; the man was dead and had a proper grave. But how did this align with what Detective Adam had said? He had assured me that Joseph was alive, evidenced by the absence of a grave among the family's dead and by his overwhelming presence, which we had all felt. Even if we were to assume he was a ghost, ghosts don't have fresh blood flowing from a severed hand, nor do they possess a weight that crushes bones, as he did to me in the library.
I took out my phone and turned on its flashlight to uncover the missing truth, but what I found was beyond my comprehension. There, in the corner of the grave, lay the book "The Red Potion." At that moment, I made my decision; I would not give up, and I would not return empty-handed.
I remembered Caster's warning that anyone who dared take a book belonging to Joseph would surely be slaughtered, but I reassured my trembling self that I hadn't stolen it from its sanctuary in the library, but had found it here, free and exposed.
With lightning speed, I snatched the book and hid it among my clothes, then I shot like an arrow towards the palace, climbing the stairs with my heart pounding like a war drum, until I reached my room and locked the door tightly behind me...