BOOK #3 from TRANSCENDENTAL Series.
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"May I ask you something?" He asked kindly. I nodded at him approvingly. "What is that locket necklace you are always wearing?" He questioned pointing at my necklace.
"It'...
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Silence filled the air. All I could hear was my hammering heart mixed with my heavy breaths. I watched his concerned face darken. I kept observing the change in his demeanor. He looked tensed and reserved again as when I got to know him for the first time.
"Answer me." I said solidly. "Who are you?"
"Han." He answered shortly.
"Yeah, sure. Han, the guardian." I scoffed. "Who are you, Han? Who are you to me? To my family? Why did you pretend to be my grandpa?"
"I never pretended to be anyone."
"YOU DID!" I yelled. "You told me that you are the owner and the one who built this house."
"Because I am the one who did that."
"My great grandpa did! Pierre, who is obviously not you." I snapped at him.
"This house is mine. Not Pierre's, not your grandfather's or whoever you think he is. And I made it clear from the very first day that my name is Han, not anything else and that I am not your grandfather."
"Then, who.. are .. you?" I uttered, taking slow steady steps towards him.
"I am not obligated to answer any farther." He replied solidly before he starts taking wide strides away from where I was standing.
He walked past me, sending me shivers as the cold air trailing his figure brushed against my body. I was left at a loss of words from his reaction. I turned around to catch him, refusing to let this conversation dies already.
"Where do you think y-" I said but my words never made it out once I found no trace of him behind me. It was just this second that he walked this way and now I was faced with complete emptiness.
I blinked a few times, trying to adjust my eyesight in case I was missing something but no. He was really not there. I rushed to the kitchen and looked around to find it just as empty as the living room and the front hall. I walked back to the hall to take the stairs up. I searched the bedroom, the bathroom and even the empty room, but he was nowhere to be found.
Anger was building up inside my chest cause I knew what he was doing. I sprinted down the stairs back to the living room. I stood in the middle of it, facing the fireplace, resting my hands on my hips. I lifted my head up to look at the portrait hanging above the fireplace. "Are you really doing this?" I yelled at no one. "You would hide instead of confronting?"
As silence surrounded me, I remembered those days when I talked to the portraits, not waiting for an answer. When I thought I was living alone in this house. When I thought that the portrait I was talking to belonged to my great grandpa.
"If you are not Pierre then, who is Pierre? Who is he to my family and who are you?" I turned around one more time to check if he appeared anywhere before I face the portrait again. "I know you are hiding there. Get out and talk to me."
