AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I got out of my car and stood in front of the entrance; my nerves shot. It wasn’t ghosts that I feared. Not anymore. No. Being back here brought back distant memories. Knowing that this would be the first time I’d be going inside without my parents. I could never bring myself to do it, but I couldn’t sell it either. But if there was anything in there that could tell me more about them, about where we came from… then I had to swallow my anxiety and get my ass inside.
It took me a few minutes to get the door open. The knob turned with ease, but the door stuck. I had to push on it with my body before it finally snapped open.
I was grateful in this moment that I’d also kept the utilities on as well. I just couldn’t bring myself to turn them off. As if keeping them on, would preserve my parents’ memory even more.
I flicked on the lights and was instantly hit with more nostalgia. That familiar scent of flowers and embalming fluid engulfed me. I crept in carefully, half-expecting someone or something to greet me or jump out at me. But it was quiet and still.
The waiting room was pristine—clean and orderly with its white walls and gray carpet. I ran my finger over the front desk, leaving streaks through the thick layer of dust. The appointment book sat open. A twinge of sadness crept into my chest at the sight of my mother’s handwriting.
I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. I could almost smell her still, recreating the memory of her scent in my mind—roses, fresh linen, and ash. My father’s glasses perched on the edge of the closed laptop. I wondered what the last thing was he read with them.
A part of me wanted to rifle through everything and another part wanted it all to remain untouched. Frozen in time. As if they’d never left. I looked up at the ceiling, tears welling in my eyes, and a whimper escaped my lips. “Why did you have to leave?” I rasped.
It was the silly whims of a little girl that screamed impossible things in my head. Being here again awakened that voice. I just wanted to curl up under the desk and fall asleep like I used to do all those years ago.
Except it wouldn’t be the same. There’d be no gentle kisses on my forehead, soothing me awake, telling me it was time to go home. No more scent of roses and linen and ash. Just death. So much death.
I made my way through the rest of the mortuary, going from room to empty room. The estate manager had told me years later that she came through right after the fire to make sure everything was untouched. She assured me, per my parents’ wishes, that nothing had been moved or tampered with. I was relieved to find that to be the truth. The essence of Dahlia and Ronan Bishop had been preserved. It lingered like a forgotten dream.
As I entered the last room, my parents’ office, I flipped on the light and froze. The black leather rolling chair behind my father’s desk swayed from side to side. As if someone had just gotten up out of it.
Sweat beaded down my neck as I took a nervous glance around. I remembered the shadow I’d seen in the window a few nights back and panic rose in my chest. The building was locked up tight so there was no way anyone could have broken in. And there were no windows in this office, no other way in or out other than the one I was standing in.
Fuck. It was probably just the draft from me opening the door after all these years of it being sealed. Or maybe just the foundation settling, stirred by my footsteps. Yeah, I’m going with that.
When I said I wasn’t afraid of ghosts, I just realized that I wasn’t afraid of my ghosts. And I had somehow failed to remember that a house for the dead would most likely have its fair share of them roaming around.
I was going to have to sage this place if I ever planned to get it back up and running.
Convinced that nothing was going to jump out and grab me, I crept inside the office. I ran my hands over the desk, the chair, and finally my father’s lab coat that hung from the coat rack. A lightness filled my chest. This was the first step to making peace with my past. And a desperate desire to spend more time here gripped me. Why had I waited so long?
I took a seat in my father’s chair and let out a deep breath as the leather formed to my body, embracing me like an old friend. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I could still feel them. They were gone but a piece of them still lingered. Not in the way my guys were, but a sliver of my parents remained for me to cling to.
I pulled open the desk drawers, finding endless amounts of office supplies. There were some business ledgers, receipts, and… multiple bottles of rose room spray? I chuckled as I took one out and spritzed it in front of me. And here I thought all these years my mother wore expensive perfume. Nope. Drugstore room spray. This brought a smile to my face. And it made me adore her even more. I pocketed one of the bottles before closing the drawer.
I saved the top middle drawer for last for some reason. I figured it was the most personal and wanted to savor it. As I slid it open, my heart raced. Directly on top of a stack of papers was a large manilla envelope… with my name on it.
As the rain poured down, I tucked the envelope into my jacket and made a run for my car. My fingers trembled as I turned the key in the ignition. I sucked in a sharp breath as I fished the envelope out and tossed it onto the passenger seat.
How long had it been in that desk drawer? I knew it wasn’t their last will and testament. I had already seen that on my eighteenth birthday when I suddenly became the richest girl in Wickford Hollow. So what was inside?
Maybe it contained the answers I’d been searching for…
I turned up the heat, my fingers trembling around the knob, and switched on the radio. If I Be Wrong by Wolf Larsen poured out of my speakers. A hiccup lodged in my throat as my emotions bubbled over. My tears turned to sobs as I drove back through the gates and turned onto Devil’s Road. I had played this song over and over after I’d signed the estate papers three years ago.
Sometimes I thought that life was circular, not linear. Here I was, years later, on the same road, listening to the same song, driving toward my old house, with an envelope from my parents as my only passenger. A shiver snaked up my spine as the sensation of déjà vu consumed me.
My phone buzzed as I turned onto the dirt road that led up to my old house—a text from Maureen: Got lots of snacks and booze. See ya soon, biatch.
I chuckled as I parked out front of my house. If anyone could shake me out of this melancholic stupor, it would be my best friend. I shoved the envelope into the glove compartment before getting out. “I’ll read you later,” I muttered under my breath. The ghosts of my past would have to wait. Tonight, I had to figure out how to deal with my present predicament.
Bailey
“Did you buy up the whole store?” I laughed as Maureen bounced through my front door carrying four full grocery bags.
“Hey, the night is young, and you know how hungry I get when I’m drunk.” She set the bags down on the kitchen table and leaned in close. “And I plan to get very fucking drunk.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Everything okay, Maur?”
