chapter 12; secrecy

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They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Nora had never found the silver lining of having loved Elijah Baxley. And she had stopped looking for one long ago.

The fog had begun to appear later that afternoon after Elijah left Eleanor's house. He made his way out of Plymouth to Ivybridge. Looking down at the watch on his wrist for a brief moment, he made a mental note of the time and continued driving. Around him, the fog thickened and just as fast as he drove, it drew closer.

In a small white washed house in Ivybridge, a man in his early seventies stood in his front garden. Hovering over his pink germini, he watched them shudder as he let water drip down on them from his watering can. Straightening up, he put one hand in the pocket of his large yellow puffer jacket and left the watering can by the side of the garden.

The clouds continued to shift above like a grey abstract painting. Silence flowed through the street until the whirring sound of an engine was heard. Owen scratched the back of his neck, stepping on to the welcome mat by the front door. Elijah parked the car and Owen turned to glance behind.

He stared ahead for a long moment before opening the door and stepping inside. Elijah got out of the car after Owen closed the door. The gravel scratched and scraped under the soles of his shoes as he walked towards the house, stopping at the hedges.


Nora didn't know what else to do the rest of the day after Elijah left. Eleanor had fallen asleep so she decided to get an early start on dinner. Her thoughts kept her company while cooking. She believed that she was falling into obsessive thinking again and hoped that by keeping busy, the thoughts would subside.

Songs.

Nora plugged in her headphones and slipped her phone into her pocket. She began to sway with the spatula in her hand. Time passed by a little easier with music on. Nora found herself immersing into the music, spinning once and almost tripping over her feet. She stopped and pressed her lips into a thin line out of embarrassment before proceeding to mix the white sauce on the stove.

Oblivious to her surroundings, she failed to hear the sound of someone creeping up the basement stairs. She swayed again, closing her eyes in bliss, an imaginary stage in her mind as the piano chimed in.

Suddenly, the floor vibrated as the lock that had initially been on the door, fell on to the kitchen floor. She stopped and her body tensed up in response. She scrambled for her phone and turned around to see the lock roll over and then stop. The basement door clicked and then opened slowly.

Nora tore the headphones from her ears and pushed them into her pocket, stepping away from the sink. Her eyes were glued on the door in case something came out. She stretched her arm back to turn the stove off.

"Who's there?" Nora bravely asked.

There was no sound other than the bubbling sauce on the stove.

"I said who's there?" she asked again, picking up the knife from the side.

Nora began to walk further to the side so that she may catch a glimpse of whoever had opened the door. Dread ran through her as she stopped to see the back of something, hurriedly making their way back down into the basement.

Nora had about two seconds to decide between locking the door or following it downstairs. With every step towards the door, her heart beat louder and louder. Her hand touched the door but she didn't pull it shut. Instead, she strode downstairs and turned the light on.

The faint whistle of a mild breeze, glided past her ears as she stopped in the middle of the staircase. It was like time was slowing down.

"Show yourself," Nora stuttered, holding the knife out in front of her.

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