Ch. Baklava

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Chapter 3

The drive home was Nora's favorite part about working at Donates. She stuck her hand out the window and let the breeze run through the gaps of her finger as the scent of lavender filled her mini car.

When she lived on campus, the lavender fields always seemed to be calling to her. She had spent countless afternoons laying in the sun, lost in the sea of lavender as she traveled through words in her books. The colors were always so vibrant. Just an endless sea.

But as soon as the drive ended and Nora entered her empty apartment above the bakery, she instantly regretted accepting Clare's offer.

She missed home. She missed her Aunt Lidia. The woman had raised her after Nora's mother passed away when she was 9 years old. Mark, Nora's father, didn't have a clue on how to raise a child. His world revolved around numbers and statistics. Lidia had been the one to guid Nora through her teen years. Not that she needed any guiding.

Nora was an old soul. She didn't always fit in with people her age. Lidia used to joke that the aliens had visited and forgot the little brown eyed child in her sister's house.

"They're all so brainless," Nora used to groan after school. "Not a single one can hold an intelligent conversation."

"Well what do you want to talk about?" Lidia would laugh from her chair.

"I want to talk about the stars, or go look at paintings at a museum. Or read Poe's poems."

"You're such a loser," Lidia teased. "You're trying too hard to be cool. Life isn't that serious, relax."

"Something has to be serious," Nora would mutter. "Something more than Facebook or what dress Ella Radacovick wears to the red carpet."

"You leave my queen alone!" Lidia worshiped that woman. "She's the people's queen."

Nora laughed as all of Lidia's words came rushing back into her head. She stood in the doorway of her dark apartment as she found herself wishing she was home with her aunt, talking about Ella Radacovick. The place was too quiet and Nora hated silent things.

Dead people were silent. Dead people did not talk. Dead people like Nora's mother...

The night Liana died, Nora was sleeping right beside her. Liana had been sick for a while. The doctors told her there wasn't much they could do. They wanted to keep her in the hospital but Liana wanted to be at home. She wanted to rest in her own bed.

Nora didn't know exactly at what point during the night her mother had passed. All she remembered from that traumatizing morning was the eerie silence in the room. At first, she had assumed it was snowing outside. Only when it snowed did the whole words get so still and so quiet. But after several minutes, as she began to crawl out of her head, Nora remembered they were still in early fall. There was no snow...

Ever since that morning, Nora became fearful of anything too still or too silent. Standing at the apartment door, she began to switch on all the lights and turn on the T.V as she kicked off her shoes and walked in. Dropping her bags on the coffee table, she dialed Lidia on the house phone and put it on speaker.

"Hey, Alexa," she turned towards the end table. "Play my music."

Instantly, upbeat music poured out through the speakers strategically placed all over the apartment. Nora plopped down onto the comfy gray couch and pulled out her phone as Lidia answered.

"Hey, loser," the woman greeted. "How was work? What did your horrible boss do today?"

"He's not my boss," Nora clicked her tongue. "But, oh my god, why is he such a dick?"

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