𝐓.𝐇.𝐄

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕

The weather seems worsening as his footsteps draw nearer. His vague figure is now clear like unpolluted water. He walks the last stair in his black jeans, black button down shirt and black elegant lace-ups. There is no doubt black is his favourite colour. Still with the same expressionless but firm face, he moves his cold eyes sharply around the salon, studying everyone who is in.

I find myself admiring his messy, but perfect black hair. A rebellious lock falls on his forehead making him look more divine than he already is. Something in his hands captures my attention and I focus my eyes on it; it is a quite large object, similar to a.. book. I blink a couple of times, sure that I have seen wrong, but once I look again and he is close to us, I have no doubts it is a book. It is that book.

At the view of it in his hands makes me let out a long, piercing scream no one but I seem to hear.

I look at Lucy on my left, with my heart beating endlessly. She looks even worse than me, if it is possible. Her face is paler than yesterday at the view of the cadavers, her lips tremble as her hands. She seems to feel my eyes on her because she suddenly turns her head towards me. I read in her eyes terror and they seem to ask desperately "what do we do now?"

However, she shouldn't be the one terrified, but me. I am the one who saw it first, I am the one who told Jonathan about it, and I am the one who should be blamed for putting them in danger, too.

The family doesn't look better than Lucy and Anne. Mr. Rockchild, from his serious and slightly worried face, seems to know that his arrival is for no good, in contrast to Mrs. Rockchild, who looks like a relieved mother when she sees her child safe and sound. I never thought there was some softness in the rigid and severe expression she always wears. Miss Ariana is still with her hand on her mouth, as if she has just seem a ghost.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson are more astonished than frightened. Their widen eyes are fixed on his figure, and Mr. Brian moves instinctively closer to Angel, putting his right arm around her, as for protection. However, she doesn't seem to be bothered by his presence, actually, she hasn't even noticed him being too worried about devouring her plate full of food. If it was in another moment, I would have laughed at her careless expression.

"J- uhm.. Lord, may I ask why are you here?" Mr. Rockchild suddenly talks, trembling at every word that comes out of his mouth.

He is still too occupied studying everyone, switching his eyes from one person to another, until his cold dark eyes stop on mine widened. I don't blink, feeling their intensity like radioactivity burning my skin. Suddenly, he turns his head towards Mr. Rockchild, who seems desperate to know the answer at his question.

"This." He finally answers, indicating the book. I didn't remember his voice being so deep and hoarse.

"That?" Mr. Rockchild asks, surprised.

He takes some more steps, stopping as he reaches the table and looking intensely at Mr. Rockchild. "I have found this book, in front of my door." He explains, pronouncing every word slowly.

"Oh,-" Mr. Rockchild is interrupted by his wife, "dear, whoever it was will get punished!" He gives her a killing look. Perhaps, what he didn't like about her talk was the word 'dear'.

"First, I want to know what who it was." He says in a dreadful calm voice, returning to wander around.

Should I confess right away? My instinct tells me to save everyone and tell the truth now, but my body doesn't seem to agree. Still with my eyes on him, I try my best to look innocent, but as soon as he poses his on mine again, I fail miserably.

My confident gaze is now posed on the ground, my nails scratching nervously my palms and my legs trembling and shaking as if I was naked in the coldest place.

He trudges towards us and I suddenly feel breathless. I am pretty sure the girls are as frightened as I am, with just one difference: thy are innocent, while I am not. Now he is right in front of us at a few centimetres of distance. His eyes travel on each of us, taking his time to study every single detail.

"Whoever it was, I ask for his or her confession. Now." None of us talks. Or worse, none of us breaths.

Once he is close to me, I feel my body feeble. He studies my face for what seems to me too long. "I don't like to repeat my requests." He says, and a little smirk forms on his lips while he stares at me, but fades right away.

Everyone stands in emotionless silence. I have learned one thing when I met him: he wants his orders to be obeyed.

"Since time is gold, I won't waste it.. here." Suddenly, he starts walking towards the stairs, leaving us all incredulous.

Mrs. Rockchild's desperate voice stops his steps, "wait! Don't you want to find out who is guilty? We don't tolerate unfaithful people here!" She bursts out.

Without turning around, he says in a conquered tone, "I do know who is the guilty person in this room."

I can feel my heart hitting my chest as if it was out of it. Fear floods my veins inexorably. He knows it was me. He will kill me and I will make the same end as the cadavers. I have never thought curiosity could be the cause of someone's death, and if it has never happened to anyone, that means I will be the first sample. Well, at least I will inspire young generations to learn to mind their business if they want to live.

"Then, tell us!" She snarls, standing up. Everyone seems quite shocked by her tone, but he doesn't seem bothered. More careless, just like Angel, who is still eating her pasta while looking at us as if we were a Netflix movie.

"I needed to know it, not you." He affirms, sharply.

Mrs. Rockchild seems hurt by his words, but she recomposes herself right away.

He continues walking the stairs, when in a split seconds, he stops again. Oh, God. Please let this torment and fear end now, or I won't contain myself from bursting into a desperate cry. No one dears to make any sound, confused and worried about why he stopped. Still with his back at us, he utters loudly enough to be audible by everyone. By me.

"Miss Lothbrok, follow me."