The Collymore Family

Chapter 20

"Is that all of it?"

Irene shook her head at the question. "No...I still have the photograph."

Ivy sighed. "Irene, if you're not going to be cooperative-"

"No, no. I'm sorry, I'll get it." Irene frowned, reaching into her jean pockets and pulling out the photograph. The photograph, the only proper piece of evidence Irene could really find. She couldn't find the strength to hand it over to Ivy. She'd already given Ivy all of the notes she'd exchanged with Angelica, as Ivy had suggested she keep it at her house. Although Irene was fond of the idea, as she did understand that Mr. and Mrs. Collymore were dangerous, she was still very reluctant to let all of the evidence go; even if it wasn't exactly strong evidence.

"Irene, we've talked through this before. Do you know how dangerous it could be if the Collymore's find out you have these things? I really, really don't want you to get hurt." Ivy held her hand out towards Irene.

Irene's frown deepened, but deep down, she knew it was the right decision. To hand all of her evidence she'd collected for the past nine days. All of this had happened in such a short period of time, yet it felt like Irene was letting a part of herself go. She didn't know how she was going to forget about all of this. Irene looked back down at the photograph. She saw Angelica's face again, her bright and adorable smile. Her soft, dark hair and her neon sweater. Hesitantly, Irene put the photograph in the palm of Ivy's hand. Ivy gave Irene a smile, before putting it into her handbag with all of the other evidence she'd collected.

"Irene, I know this is hard for you, but we're doing this to protect Noella and yourself. I will keep it safe at my home." Ivy placed a hand on Irene's shoulder as a way to comfort her.

"I know...but this all feels so...wrong. To be hiding everything from now on. Can't I at least tell my parents?" Irene suggested. She never thought she would be saying something like this, but in this situation, Irene just wanted help. Sure, Ivy was doing exactly that, but she wanted to at the very least ask her parents about it. They were very close to the Collymore's since childhood, so close that Irene often considered them relatives when she was younger.

"Remember what I said before, Irene? What are the chances of them believing you? You said they were close to the Collymore family, so do you think they would believe you when you tell them Mr. and Mrs. Collymore are murderers? It's a terrible idea, especially considering your relationship with them isn't all that good." Ivy reminded her.

"Linh?" Irene suggested again.

"No, Irene." Ivy's voice was stern. "I'm sorry, but it's not a smart decision to be telling anyone right now. Please, just keep this confidential."

"...Okay." It was the only word Irene could let out. She was, in fact, not fine with the idea. Even though her relationship with her parents wasn't good, she had a feeling they knew something about this. They were so close to Mr. and Mrs. Collymore, so what were the chances that they knew something Irene didn't? "Thank you for coming over, but I'm sure you'll need to leave now."

Ivy nodded. "Come by and visit me tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow I'm babysitting, so likely not. I don't know when I'll be free. I'm sorry." Irene told her.

"Very well. Perhaps we could find a time later." Ivy slung the handbag over her shoulder. "Have a good night."

"Yeah, you too." Irene tried to sound at least a bit happy, but to be honest, all she wanted to do was lock herself in her bedroom. And once she'd locked and bolted the front door, that's exactly what she did.

Nine days of collecting evidence. Nine days of speaking to a ghost, investigating a murder. It was all being thrown out the window.

Was this really the end?

A part of her was surprised by how Ivy thought this would be easy to forget. Irene couldn't believe how nonchalant Ivy was during the entirety of this. She seemed almost completely relaxed in every situation which, in all honesty, creeped Irene out a little. A part of Irene didn't want to do what Ivy was saying. She wanted to continue the investigation despite the risks.

She felt guilty. She didn't want to stop helping Angelica. She was a spirit, sure, but so what? So what if she was dead? She'd been murdered by two people Irene thought she could trust. Two people Irene considered her own family.

At the same time, a part of her wanted to believe Ivy and do what she said. Ivy was much older than her, and considering she'd spoken to a ghost before, probably more experienced in this whole spirit concept. She was clearly more wise in this subject, and if she believed this was a dangerous situation, it would be best to listen to her. Irene couldn't decide what she wanted to do. She could listen to Ivy, or she could rebel against her. As much as she wanted to do what Ivy said, Irene also felt upset that she had to end all of this. She didn't want to end all of this.

Irene knew tomorrow would be tough to get through. She would have to ignore Angelica for the entire day she babysat. But...it couldn't be that hard, right? Irene thought to herself. All Angelica really did was send notes through the door and give Noella 'dreams'. If Irene just completely ignored the golden padlock door and didn't look at the notes, she wouldn't be tempted to do anything. Although the guilt would be strong, and it would probably make her even more frustrated. You're doing this for Noella. Irene had to remind herself. As long as Noella was safe.

Who was more important? The living, or the dead? Noella, or Angelica? You could save a living person, but you couldn't really save a dead one, could you? As much as Irene wanted to help Noella and Angelica, Noella was the most vulnerable in this situation, and if Irene had to choose between one person to help, it was going to be Noella.

This situation was weighing down on her. Despite not wanting to admit it, Irene had to agree that it was stressing her out a lot. Something like this clearly wasn't meant to be investigated by a twenty year old student who became anxious quite easily. Yet, despite all of these consequences, Irene had the overwhelming urge to help Angelica. Ever since the beginning of this, Irene wanted to help, and although she promised Ivy not to intervene anymore, Irene was slowly beginning to go against that.

All of these thoughts made her headache and her legs unsteady. Irene wanted to pass out just from these things overfilling her head. Irene plopped down onto her bed and laid down, feeling the coldness of the pillow beneath her head. Whenever she was stressed out or overwhelmed, Irene always, for some reason, felt tired or sleepy. It was likely she'd gained the habit from her childhood, since she would often take long naps after being so overwhelmed by her academics and impression towards her parents. She'd asked herself the question, what if I'm not good enough? So much that she became too tired to even think of the question.

Irene closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about today. She didn't want to think about tomorrow. She didn't want to think about the investigation, Angelica or Noella. She certainly didn't want to think about Mr. and Mrs. Collymore and anything related to murder. Irene was practically dreading tomorrow.

She didn't know how long she could ignore Angelica, or if she could even ignore her at all for that matter. She had another gut feeling again, the same gut feeling she'd gotten the day she found out the Collymore's were murderers. The day she drove over to their house. An overwhelming feeling of nervousness, anxiousness, dread that gradually washed over her as she approached the house. The urge to make it to their house as fast as she could, a sense of danger. The emotions were all coming back to her.

She wished at that moment that she could tell the future, see into it, see what was making her feel this way. All she knew now was that tomorrow wouldn't be what she was expecting. She knew something would go wrong tomorrow, she could feel it. She wanted to see tomorrow and simultaneously didn't. Irene could only hope that tomorrow wouldn't end badly for her, but she knew deep down something would happen.

There was nothing she could do, except wait.