The day Aunt Marie left, she gave Stella a small and weirdly shaped piece of wood. She said that if we ever wanted to visit her, we should knock on it three times before saying:
"Rimemo Dema, bring me home."
After having said these words, Stella drops the piece of wood as if it were on fire.
"Are you ok?" I ask, worried.
"Y-yeah... More importantly..."
She looks at a big tree in front of us. As if something was supposed to come out of it.
I look at it for a moment. It just looks like a normal tree to me. A little bit bigger than normal, but-
Suddenly the tree's trunk slowly opens like a door. I'm stunned for a moment but after looking at Stella, who didn't even flinch, as if she knew this would happen.
The door opens little by little until a woman comes out.
A tall and slender woman with long blonde hair wearing a big, pointy hat over her head. Her face looks identical to our deceased mother. Just a little bit more tired.
Her clothes, on the other hand, are very different from what mom used to wear.
A long black dress with a V cut that exposes most of her chest. And long sleeves that almost cover her entire hands.
Behind her is what I can presume is her house. It's a bit dark, but I can clearly see some potions on top of a table and a very disorganized bed.
For a moment she looks at us with confusion but quickly realizes who we are.
"...Stella? Alice? What are you doing in the middle of the forest?" Her voice is groggy but smooth. Maybe the almost empty bottle of wine on her hand has something to do with it.
She looks around for a second while scratching her head. "Where's your mom?"
I look down as I cling to Stella, letting her give the bad news.
"Good to see you again, aunt Marie..." Her voice trails of as she looks at the drunk woman leaning on the door. She clearly wasn't expecting to see aunt Marie in this shape. "Something happened to mom..."
She squints at my sister for a moment. Waiting for her to continue but quickly understanding the situation.
"So... They finally got you, Clara..."
I remember that Aunt Marie's attitude towards mom was very cold and even hostile at times. We could always hear them arguing in mom's room late at night.
But, no matter how bad is your relationship with your sister, you should at least feel something when you hear that they died, right?
No tears, no condolences, no emotion, no nothing. Marie just finishes what was left on that bottle of wine in her hand and says:
"Come inside. We have a lot to talk about."