Eternal Love

Beyond The Royale

Valerie pulled into the long, winding driveway, gravel crunching beneath her tires. She gazed up at the imposing facade of her grandparents' mansion with a small shiver, the events at the Royale Hotel still fresh in her mind. Could there be restless spirits here too, secrets buried as deep as the old foundation?

Ever since that night when she had been possessed by the murdered bride, Valerie saw the world through new eyes. She reevaluated old ghost stories, noticing strange inconsistencies in the tale of her early childhood. The car engine switched off, Valerie steeled herself. Was she ready to face whatever truths awaited inside?

Her grandmother Evelyn bustled into the marble-floored foyer as Valerie entered, pulling her into an embrace that smelled of Chanel.

"Valerie dear, so good of you to visit your lonely old grandparents! Now come, tea is ready in the east drawing room."

Valerie allowed herself to be ushered down the hall, surprised to find her grandfather James already seated on an antique divan beside the crackling fireplace, a frail figure half-lost in the wingback's tufted leather. Valerie studied the man who had once seemed larger than life. When had he grown so diminished? So...haunted?

As she accepted a steaming teacup, inhaling the bergamot scent, Valerie cleared her throat nervously. No more dodging the question that had plagued her.

"Grandfather, might I ask you something?"

Rheumy blue eyes rose to meet her gaze as he nodded indulgently. Valerie went on, "I was hoping you could tell me more about my parents, your son and his wife. I have so few memories of them, almost nothing before the accident."

She watched keenly, noticing the slightest tension in her grandmother's shoulders as she busied needlessly with the tea tray. After a weighty pause, her grandfather began haltingly.

"Yes, well...it was all tragic what happened to poor George and Elizabeth..." He trailed off, lines etched deeper in his face.

Valerie felt a spark of excitement. She leaned forward intently, hungry for any scrap of truth.

"Go on grandfather, please."

The old man sighed heavily as if exhaling decades of silent burden.

"I'm afraid your parents were not the people you believed, my dear." He peered into the cold fireplace, looking into the past.

"You see, George and Elizabeth weren't your parents at all."

Valerie nearly dropped her teacup. Whatever revelation she had expected, it wasn't this. She remembered them so clearly - her mother's lilting laugh, her father tossing her gleefully in the air as a child. Or were those false memories?

"Then...then who?" she stammered.

Her grandmother answered this time, voice uncharacteristically tight.

"Your parents were named Claire and Timothy, a couple who lived here years ago when you were very small. They were the original owners, had the house built themselves." Evelyn stared out the mullioned window.

"We only moved here after they passed away and the house sat empty."

"Died? You mean..." Valerie's mind whirled, pieces falling into place with terrible momentum.

"The accident...that everyone said..."

Evelyn turned sharply as if to silence her granddaughter. But James raised a trembling hand.

"No. There was no accident. We've kept the truth from you all these years to spare you further pain. But you're an adult now, you deserve to know." He looked at Valerie with profound regret.

"We found you that night, crying in their bed. You were too young to recall later when we took you in and told you we were your grandparents."

Horrified understanding washed over Valerie. She remembered it now - kind smiling faces hovering over her in a darkened bedroom, murmuring comfort. Then screams, shouts, sobbing. Strong arms pulled her away, away from the red stains spreading across the sheets.

"There was no intruder like we claimed," her grandfather admitted wretchedly.

"Our son George murdered them in a jealous rage, wanted what was theirs. We helped him cover everything up, and raised you as our own. But the guilt has haunted us every day since." His eyes pleaded for forgiveness.

Valerie sat frozen, the life she had known crumbling around her with the tragedy of a long-dead couple she could not even truly remember. Her parents - her real parents, victims of brutal treachery. And the people she had loved and trusted all along had kept this terrible secret.

Valerie stood abruptly, the ancient floorboards creaking. "I have to go. I...I can't..."

Blindly she turned and fled the room, ran from the house through the early winter gloom without looking back. Weeping bitterly, she let long-buried spirits guide her feet down a wooded path.

When Valerie finally stopped, breath crystallizing in icy clouds, she found herself before a small, neglected graveyard at the edge of the property. With somber understanding, she passed among its crooked headstones slowly, brushing leaves aside until two names shone up at her.

Claire and Timothy. Beloved, though lost.

Kneeling, Valerie traced her real parents' names carved in stone. All was silence save for the winter wind stirring the barren trees. Valerie bowed her head and began to speak softly, telling two ghosts the stories their daughter's life should have held.

The past could not be changed, but the truth had been spoken at last. A family tragedy had come full circle after so many years in the shadows. Whatever the future held, Valerie knew she would greet it with wiser eyes - eyes now opened to the restless secrets dwelling in darkened halls, in graves gone too long untended.

A gentle wind stirred, seeming to wrap her in an invisible embrace. Looking up with a gasp, she saw two filmy figures standing before the headstones - a man and woman, faint but unmistakable. They gazed at Valerie with deep sadness and longing, as if seeing the daughter fate had stolen from them.

"Mom? Dad?" Valerie whispered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

The specters glided forward, misty hands reaching as if to touch Valerie's face. She felt only the slightest chill, a feather-brush of contact, but it carried all the love they had been denied the chance to give in life.