When they had left Maria felt the stare of the Notre Dame statues behind her, and could imagine the man still within the attic of the church.
Raphael walked in front of Maria, his once light steps turned to heavy stomps. Maria trailed behind him, rubbing her arms as she looked at Raphael's tense demeanour. His shoulders were hunched, his head low and his hands in tight fists.
The silence was uncomfortable. Each unwilling to be the first to speak. After walking to the end of a road, Maria managed to voice, "Are you alright Raphael?"
Raphael groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I'm fine."
"You don't look like it."
"I assure you, I'm fine." Raphael didn't raise his voice, but his tone was snappy.
For some reason, Maria felt genuinely hurt. "Raphael," she grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, "What was that? Truly, what was that?"
Raphael smiled, "A man stalked us from a theatre to a church, he held you a knifepoint, I don't think your in any position to judge my actions."
"But to burn his face? To attack him?" Maria's voice hitched.
"What else could I have done? Huh?" Raphael's arm gestures were wide and strong swipes at the air, "Just asked him nicely, 'Could you please let go of my friend, we're in a bit of a rush. Oh, and while you're at it, can you please let my other friend Anita go, she's a child.' What else were you expecting I do?"
"Did you consider stabbing him?" Maria blurted out.
Raphael expressed shock, "What?"
Maria gulped, a lump forming in her throat. "You grab his knife, you hold it for a long time to simply decide to stab the wood." Maria stood taller, strengthening her resolve, "Did you or did you not consider stabbing that man?"
Raphael staggered from the accusation, a flash of worry crossing his face as he pressed his hands against his face. "Do you really think that low of me, Maria?" he eventually quizzed.
Maria watched his demeanour change, the hand not pressed against his forehead trembled on his hip, he had turned away from her and sounded hurt. "Raphael, you act too perfect," she finally said, "You put on this disguise of manners and collectedness but that's all it looks like; a disguise." Maria took in a shaky breath, "All I see is a mask."
She felt her chest heaving, her jaw trembling so fiercely but she continued when Raphael said nothing. "Is all you are a criminal?"
"And are you only a fraud?" Raphael countered. His attempts at covering up his disdain disappeared.
"At least my scheme was for the interest of my friend, I don't see how stealing a portrait of the Queen from the theatre benefits anybody but yourself!" Maria was raising her voice. In the empty streets, her rising anger amplified.
Raphael was surprised. "How do you know…?"
She scoffed, "I'm not stupid, Raphael." She grabbed at his coat, starting an awkward scuffle of Maria attempting to grab the painting in his back and Raphael attempting to push her off. They both grunted in their efforts as Maria managed to pull the rolled-up painting from his pants, but in the same motion, Raphael pinned her against a brick wall, forcing the hand holding the painting above her head. His presence alone was enough to immobilise her.
The pair saw their jewellery glowing an angered green, it was the brightest light in the street. But neither took notice of it, only each other and their rising chests as they breathed with fury.
She was forced to consider his eyes again. Despite the evening light, she could see the cool brown hue and a small speck of green sprinkled throughout. Despite what her head was telling her, she couldn't be fearful of this phantom, for within his eyes she saw something vulnerable, something painful, almost pitiful. His breathing was laboured, she could see his jaw clenched and her hand was growing cold from how tightly he held her wrist.
Maria lifted her free arm and wrapped it around his waist, pushing herself off the wall slightly to embrace him. Raphael didn't return the hug, but he let go of her wrist, taking the painting from her. She stayed pressed against him, her chest feeling very tight and warm. She looked down between then and saw her pendent continuing to glow softly, but gradually fading.
Raphael lifted his hand and watched the ring mimic, the only raging light faded to nothing. He sighed, feeling an uncomfortable burn running up his arm from his finger, "What are these things doing to us…" he mused aloud as he stepped away from Maria. He wasn't as careful as before to roll up the painting and stuff it back in the band of his pants. "I apologise for calling you a fraud," he said simply, he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, only able to look up. "You've caught me at a… pretty upsetting time." His confession was followed by a forced smile, "If what the man said was true, then Anita needs my help. I'm sorry, I have to go."
He didn't run away from Maria, but he disappeared out of the lamp's light within a few strides, leaving Maria by the brick wall. She gently punched the wall rhythmically as she bit down on her tongue, wanting to scream but not finding a good enough reason why.
*
Raphael felt Maria's presence behind him. The remaining walk to his house was in agreed silence. He just wanted to go home, sleep it off, hope everything goes away. But more, he wanted to know Anita was safe.
Raphael knew Anita, recalling all the times she had hidden when they first met or how swiftly she was able to run away from people when a pick-pocket went wrong, she doesn't get caught. Anita never allowed herself to be captured unless she knew she could get out. He had a picture in his head, when he arrived home Anita would still be awake despite the late hour, run up to him and scold him for leaving her at the palace. She would request a cat to make up for it to which he'd decline, they'd debrief, perhaps share a hug depending on how angry she was, and he would make her go to bed.
With every step, Raphael became fatigued, both mentally and physically. His arms dropped, becoming heavy limbs, and his head cast his eyes to the ground. "Are you okay, Raphael?" Maria's voice seemed genuinely concerned, despite their argument.
Raphael attempted a quip, "I look as bad as I feel, do I?" He straightened out and sighed, resting his hands on the back of his head. "I just need to get home. Do you need a place to stay for the night or do you want to head back to your church?" Raphael could see his door from where they walked and halted in the middle of the pathway before Maria could answer him.
She ran into his back, confused she looked to what he was staring at.
The small gate which Raphael kept closed was creaking at the influence of the night breeze, and the front door was wide opened. Raphael's steps quickened, running his hands over the cold brick wall he hopped it to get to the door quicker.
Stunned, Maria ran to the gate and down the pathway as Raphael fell through the door calling Anita's name. He stumbled upon a scene of chaos. Any loose artefact, be it a vase, a clock or a photo frame, had knocked off their shelves. On the right across the floor of the living room was opened and torn books, and on the left the ground was littered with broken glass plates from their china cabinet in the dining room. Everything was in a state of disarray.
Raphael staggered where he stood, using the wall to brace himself. Maria caught his arm, taking in the scene herself in stunned silence. "Raphael…"
He pushed her away and held a fistful of his hair before suddenly screaming, "Anita!" He called up the stairs as he scaled them, the sound of him violently opening and slamming doors echoed throughout the silent house. In a similar state of alarm, Maria called out Anita's name.
Raphael opened Anita's bedroom door, his strength causing it to ricochet back at him. "Anita! Anita, are you hiding?" Raphael scrambled around her room, opening her closet and toy chest and looking under her bed. He searched his room, the spare bedroom, the bathroom and every small cabinet he knew Anita could fit in, but found most of them empty.
"Raphael!" Maria's call was like a fishing line, and Raphael was the fish. He barrelled down the stairs three at a time and swung around the railing towards Maria, who stood facing the corner of the living room.
Anita sat there, tucked in a ball, pale as a ghost. Her breaths struggled shudders as her wide eyes stared at a fixed point in the floor.
Raphael fell to his knees as he shuffled towards her, unable to speak clearly upon seeing the state she was in. "Anita, Anita it's me, it's Raphael." Her dress was dirty from muck and her hair was in shambles, but what frightened Raphael more were the bloody pages that surrounded her and her messy red hands. "Anita, are you hurt?"
"Am I hurt…?" Anita's words were fast mumbles. "Am I hurt? I could be hurt, but if I was hurt I would be hurting." She made a small whimper, her head rocking back and forth, her eyes unable to leave the fixed place. "And since I'm not hurting I'm not hurt."
Raphael edged closer to her, she was in shock.
"Why was there blood?" Anita rambled, "I know there was blood because he was bleeding, but if he was bleeding there had to be a reason and there was a reason, there was a very good reason." Anita's words became indistinct, barely audible phrases Raphael couldn't comprehend.
"Anita, it's Raphael," he repeated, his voice as fragile as hers.
"No, no, no, Raphael is with Maria, he is with Maria. I saw him go to Maria, therefore he is with Maria." Anita said this firmly, all the while punching her thigh with every new sentence. "Maria was upset, he went with Maria, you can't be Raphael, he is with Maria!" She started shouting, her torso convulsing as if she was trying not to vomit.
Raphael was kneeling before her, short of breath himself. "I'm here, Anita. I am here. Raphael is home."
Anita struggled to lift her head, appearing to look at Raphael before tucking her bed back into her knees and mumbling to herself. "I found the crown, I found the crown for Raphael," he managed to hear her say, "But someone else found the crown, someone else knows my name. My name is Anita, my name is Anita, my obstacles are nothing more than puzzles… my obstacles are nothing more than puzzles…" She buried her eyes into her emerald dress, attempting to calm herself down.
Raphael's jaw was clenched, taking deep breaths himself to keep from going hysterical himself. Behind him, Maria was on the verge of tears, pressing a hand to her mouth to hold in the sobs.
Raphael gulped as he touched her arm in an attempt of comfort.
Anita lifted her head and squealed, slapping at Raphael's hand and swiping and the air around her. She pleaded for someone to let her go, demanded he leave her as she kicked at the paper around her feet. "Just leave me alone…" Anita managed to say, rocking with violent strength back and forth. Her breaths were shallow and quick, but Raphael managed to hear, "My world isn't scary… it's spectacular…" She repeated this several times, but did not cease her swaying.
Raphael wiped his eyes and sighed, pushing past Anita's discomfort to hold her. She cried, pushing against his chest, punching at his back and shoulders. She struggled in his grip, managing to turn herself around and clawed at the ground to get away from him. Raphael had a tight grip on her, enduring her assaults and her screaming. "Maria, can you find a music box?" He told her he didn't know where it was, but it was somewhere in the living room.
Maria scrambled around the living room, brushing aside papers and fixing upturned furniture to look underneath them. She found a small bronzy gold box, with a delicate pattern on it. She opened it to find a ballerina standing still. Anita continued to whimper and cry, Maria found it hard to stop her eyes welling up.
She kneeled beside the struggling pair and started playing the little music box, twisting the handle for as long as it could withstand. The ballerina started dancing, making small twirls to the soothing music. Even Maria couldn't hear it over Anita's wails.
Anita started hiccupping, her eyes wet, as she realised the small tune playing. She stopped struggling, going limp in Raphael's arms. She continued sobbing, her limbs drooping on the ground and against Raphael. Her lip quivered as her arms blindly searched for something. Raphael took the music box from Maria and balanced it on Anita's lap. Her body became a fit of trembles as she hugged the music box close to her chest, steady streams of tears dripping down her face.
The room fell silent again, Raphael gently stroking Anita's hair as she began to calm down.
The final ting of the music box reverberated throughout the silent house. Anita shuddered again and started silently crying, "They killed him, Raphael," She took a hard breath, "They killed him like an animal." She turned around and buried her head in his chest, her breath heaving as she cried.
Raphael cradled Anita firmly, gently hushing her as he moved side to side, humming.
"Please don't hum," Anita managed to breathe, "That man hummed…"
Raphael swallowed hard, forcing his voice to be even, "Yeah. No problem. Do you want to go to bed?"
Anita nodded against his chest.
Maria was amazed by how calm his voice sounded despite such a distressing situation. "We'll get you cleaned up, and then it's off the bed with you." Anita wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder, looking once to Maria as Raphael walked up the stairs.
*
Maria didn't know if she was welcome. Raphael had left her in the living room to aid Anita, which she held no objection to, but was uncomfortable being surrounded by the mess.
She examined the chaotic nature of the mess, pondering whether someone had been looking for something and, more importantly, if they found it. She fixed up overturned furniture and stacked whatever whole books she could find. Some had been ripped in half, their pages scattered across the floor as if the ground's carpet were the pages. She piled some of the pages together, unsure whether they went together, and stopped at the bloody pages where Anita had been sitting.
"Oh, Anita…" Maria breathed as she picked up a clean corner of an otherwise scrunched up, stained page. She prayed it wasn't her own, but remained worried at the concept someone else was murdered in front of Anita.
Maria went into the next room and attempted to clear some of the glass shards. She noted many were from plates and teacups. She looked up to a cabinet she recalled looking at on that morning and noticed all the plates had been knocked down.
Maria gasped as she cut her knee, unaware of the glass underneath it. She stood up and sighed, walked to the kitchen to get a towel. The kitchen was in a similar state of shambles. All cupboards had been opened and emptied, including the fridge, making the kitchen strangely cold. Maria closed the fridge and fished a small rag off the counter, dampening it to dab at her knee. Everything was a mess, yet so many things were left untouched; an entire cabinet of plates, the small tables in the hallway, and who knows how much upstairs.
Everything felt deliberately messy as if someone had wanted people to think he had searched for something.
Maria sighed again, wiping her brow to look out the window. She could barely see outside, she saw herself and the glow of the necklace. Looking down, she noticed it was gleaming again. She rolled her eyes as she tucked it under her dress. What on earth could any of this be about?
Maria looked up to the ceiling, intending to look to the second floor. She made her way to the stairwell and up. Two lights were on in the hallway, one for the bathroom and the other for Anita's room. She glanced into Anita's room and saw Raphael sitting by her bed, having taken off his fedora and coat, he looked tired as he sat there staring at a sleeping Anita.
Maria walked into the room and stood at the foot of the bed. She seemed so peaceful in slumber.
"Is she okay?" Maria asked. Aside from a small cut on her cheek, Anita was in good physical health.
Raphael nodded. "Indeed. She's fine." Raphael made an exasperated sigh as he rubbed his head, "Thank heavens for that. Poor thing just had a terrible fright. Hopefully, she'll be fine when she wakes." Raphael leaned his elbows on the bed, shaking his head, "I never should've left her there. I can only imagine what she's seen."
Maria gulped, "Was she… umm…"
Raphael had a flicker of fright run across him, suddenly rising quickly and becoming very nervous. Maria wished she had said nothing. He shook his head, "I… I don't think she was hurt," Raphael assured, although he didn't sound convinced, "I'll know more in the morning, hopefully, she'll feel better by then."
Maria nodded, "Of course."
She watched as Raphael leaned forwards and brushed aside some of Anita's hair. Maria feeling a strange sense of longing, bordering on jealousy, at the way Raphael looked at Anita, a sense of adoration. "You said something interesting in our little argument earlier," he said, "'You put on this disguise of manners and collectedness but that's all it looks like; a disguise," Raphael looked to Maria, "'All I see is a mask.'"
Maria didn't feel guilty about what she had said.
"Now that we're both a bit calmer, can you elaborate please?" Raphael requested.
Maria gulped, too frightened to talk. He assured her he wasn't going to get mad. "I just meant you seem very well-mannered, flawless almost, but distant and almost cold. It doesn't seem natural, is all." Maria walked around the bed and sat at the end of the bed. "And when I saw you with that man, what you looked like you were going to do, it scared me."
Raphael's eyes closed for a moment, processing what she had said. "I can promise you, wholeheartedly, I'm not a frightening man, Maria." He opened his eyes, "I may look like this calm and collected guy, as you say. Like someone who never gets riled up or angered, or if I ever am I'm methodical about it." Raphael chuckled, "But deep down I'm not… I'm not and I'll happily admit I'm not a flawless guy. I get angry, I get scared and I feel vulnerable." He held Anita's hand and ran small circles on the palm of his hand.
"You asked me how I appear so put together, with manners and confidence and collectedness and so on." Raphael's eyes turned back to Anita, "It's all for her. She didn't judge me when we first met, and I was determined to be a better man for her. She deserves so much more then what she was given, then what I can give her. So, I make sure I always put my best foot forwards, to be that one ounce of stability in her life, that one thing she knows she can count on." Raphael's eyes became glassy, and when he blinked a tear rolled down his cheek, "And looked what happened to her, I've failed her."
Maria wondered how greatly Anita would disagree if she were awake, so she did it on her behalf. Maria touched his arm, "Raphael, you've done far from fail her. If anything, this would be my fault."
Raphael placed his own hand over hers and sighed, "It doesn't matter how you change or what you do to change I suppose. It's about changing for the right reasons." He squeezed her hand before pushing it off, "You may have seen someone different to the man you're used to Maria, but believe it or not we are the same guy. I am gentlemanly, and I like to think I'm kind or friendly. But it's not really my place to say. If your opinion of me has changed, then fine. I won't try to force you to look at me in any other way. But at least let me show you at least a little bit of what I've gone through, and maybe you won't look at me like some sort of two-faced sociopath."
Maria smiled and paused. It took Maria a moment to realise he was offering amends.
Raphael appeared in better spirits as he scooped up his jacket and fedora, and grabbed the Queens's portrait resting on the cabinet. "Please, come with me. I feel I need to explain myself a little better than I have." He leaned over Anita and gently tucked her arms in, before instructing, "Follow me."
He strode past Maria and into the hallway, going to the room at the end of the hall. Maria followed quickly.