Chapter 8
Chapter 8
A shrill alarm pierced the air. Isaac’s men instinctively reached for their communicators, but none showed the flashing light. Then, all eyes turned to Isaac. The red light blinking on his belt was unmistakable. Only two people knew the frequency of that communicator. One was Gamon, seated beside him. But there was no reason to use a communicator when face-to-face.
Which meant the call came from the other person: the one responsible for the rarest piece in his prized collection housed in the annex. Arietta’s physician. Something was wrong. The air thickened with tension.
“Get out.” The communicator continued its insistent beeping, but Isaac ignored it, dismissing his men. He waited, listening to the closing door, the receding footsteps down the hall, the descent of the stairs, before retrieving the device. He pressed the receive button, and the screen glowed a pale green.
[Damaged! Fall from]
Isaac stared intently at the screen until it flickered and scrolled to the next line.
[Fracture due to fall and other]
Isaac took out a fresh cigarette, snipped the end, and placed it between his lips. He tried to light it, but the lighter was acting up, refusing to ignite.
[Injuries, unconscious]
He twisted his lips and snapped the cigarette in half.
Unconscious?
* * *
“I heard it happened in the attic bedroom used by the new maids.”
Arietta lay unconscious, a picture of utter devastation.
The physician assured him that, thankfully, no broken ribs had punctured her internal organs.
Thankfully? Was it truly something to be thankful for? Her limbs and torso were completely swathed in bandages, gauze covering one cheek. Was this… something to be thankful for?
“There was a conflict between a maid named Gwen, hired two weeks ago, and the item. I heard…”
The physician, explaining the circumstances, glanced nervously at Isaac. Isaac’s gaze remained fixed on Arietta, whose shallow breaths seemed barely enough to sustain life.
“Gwen was boasting to the other maids yesterday about sleeping with Big Cat, and the item, unfortunately, overheard it. That’s when… the argument began.”
“Arietta doesn’t argue.” Isaac stated flatly.
“I, I apologize. From what I heard, it wasn’t much of an argument. Gwen was apparently yelling at the item. Quite vehemently…”
“….”
“And, according to the maids, Gwen, in a fit of rage, pushed Miss Arietta.”
It certainly looked that way. The moment Gwen reached out, Arietta had jumped out the window.
Of course, if anyone had looked closely, they would have realized Arietta had jumped herself. But it had happened so fast, and the idea of Arietta’s sudden suicide attempt was less palatable than the narrative of a jealous Gwen, momentarily blinded by rage, pushing her.
That’s why the maids were so certain Gwen had pushed her.
“Her dress caught on the railing of the second-floor main balcony, lessening the impact. Her life is not in danger.”
“When will she wake up?” Isaac finally tore his gaze from Arietta to look at the physician.
“That’s…” the physician trailed off, a clear indication he didn’t know.
“Is it possible she may never wake up?” Isaac’s voice dropped, a bad omen. The physician flustered, waving his hands.
“No. She will wake up. Big Cat knows the item’s disposition best. Her will to live is exceptionally strong.”
A strong will to live. That was the general consensus regarding Arietta. Isaac, seemingly in agreement, turned his gaze back to Arietta.
“Bring that woman to the annex drawing-room.”
“By ‘that woman,’ you mean…?”
“Gwen.” Isaac’s lips twisted as he uttered the name. “The one who supposedly pushed Arietta.”
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.