Fear of death is a strong motivation to survive. Cece felt her entire body stiffen. Her hands trembled. The temperature inside the car was average, but that didn't matter. Cece imagined herself lying alone, naked in a valley filled with snow. The silver shimmer should please her eyes, instead, it froze her heart. A glance at the darkened screen of her phone showed her a ghostly pale face. Her small heart-shaped face, big brown eyes, and blue-streaked hair made her look like a ghost from a Tim Burton movie.
"Then why didn't you say something?" she asked him back. She was not sure her voice was audible. She had a thousand words to scream at him, a thousand curses to shower him with, questions to ask him, but she couldn't speak in front of him. She was frozen in her place.
"What did you expect me to say? I am sorry. I didn't mean to do it. It was already done, and I was not in the state of helping you at that moment," he answered casually.
He was busy getting away with the murder of two innocent people. "Of course," she mumbled. He had to run away, how could he help her? How could he see in what state he was leaving her?
In a microsecond, she was back to that fateful night.
Three years ago,
When she drove home, she found her neighbour Mr. Roberts standing near a lamppost. He waved at her, but too lost in her own thoughts, she missed her chance to wave him back. She looked at him in the rearview mirror and shook her head. This meant that she had to pay him a visit later and make the small talk she had always hated.
It was almost evening. She got delayed because of Luke. She looked at the watch and hummed a song. Now that she was closer to home, she was feeling a little better, even though the dark shadow was still there in her mind. From a distance, her house looked like a fairytale cottage, well-lit, warm, a little old and quaint, surrounded by trees, and —
She squinted to see properly. Was that a car standing in front of the house? Whose car was it? She had never seen that car around, was there someone visiting her parents? Why didn't Mom tell her anything about it? They had talked just an hour back, Cece gave her location to Mom, and Dad told her to get home faster so that they could all have an early dinner… everything entangled into her mind.
She parked her car in the driveway and took careful steps inside the house. Even though there was a guest, there was no sound around. She entered through the main door, which was open. Suspiciously, she looked around. The fear in her mind was taking shape again. Where was everybody?
"Mom, Dad, I am home!" She called out loudly, but there was no response. She called again, and this time Bruno came out of the kitchen jumping.
"Hey, Bruno, where is everybody?" she kneeled down and started petting Bruno, and looked around again.
Shocking her to death, the man came out of the kitchen with her dad. The same guy who had been following her. She shivered, causing Bruno to stop wagging his tail and watch her.
"Cece, look who is here," said Dad. "Meet Gavin. He is your mother's best friend's son. Gavin, this is my daughter, Celia."
"Where is mom?" Cece asked nervously, her eyes stayed on his face. He was older than her. His tall, lean yet athletic structure accentuated by expensive, probably designer attire made him stand out in her household. From a distance she couldn't see how prominent and sharp his facial features were, or the mole under his dark brown eyes.
"She is upstairs, talking to Gavin's mother. Come, come and see what we have done here. Turns out, Gavin is a great cook. We've made all your favourite dishes. Come on, don't look so grumpy!"
Before she could say anything, her father went inside. Gavin threw a half smile at her and tagged along with her father. The smell of freshly roasted chicken wafted through the room. She stared at the two men for a minute before running upstairs. However, her feet stopped involuntarily when she stepped inside her mother's room. She remembered that she hadn't knocked before entering, something her mother disliked.
She should have knocked, she thought. Then she would not see her mother in such a state. Gloria was sitting on her bed with her laptop open, her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was down and uncombed, and her face was flushed. She clearly had been crying. Hearing Cece coming inside the room, she raised her eyes.
"When did you come, sweetie?" she asked Cece in a composed tone. Cece admired her mother for being emotionally balanced, but today she felt hurt. She was very obviously trying to hide whatever was bothering her from Cece, and it made her feel distant.
Cece whispered, "Mom, is everything okay?"
Her mother smiled sadly and replied, "Nothing that cannot be solved. How was your drive? Are you hungry?"
"I know I cannot solve every problem, but you can at least feel at ease if you share them with me." Cece pouted and added, "Besides, I want to know how come we never heard about your best friend's son before. When did he come and get so comfortable with Dad?"
Her mother stared at her, raising a brow. The unspoken question in her eyes made Cece speak again. "You let a stranger enter not just the house but inside the kitchen. I have a bad feeling about him." She looked at her mother's face and added, with more emphasis than before, "I don't like him."
Her mother frowned and looked out of the window. "You know what they say about books and their covers."
Cece rolled her eyes and dropped herself on the armchair near the window. "There is also a saying about trusting one's instinct, Mom. I have this really bad feeling, like something really bad, something unspeakable is going to happen."
Her mother looked back at her with a hint of surprise in her eyes. She pulled her shoulder-length hair up into a ponytail and stood up. Grabbing a tissue she wiped her face, and asked, "What makes you feel that way?"
Cece shrugged and bit her nail. She knew how specific things, events, people, or thoughts triggered emotions, but she didn't know where her feelings originated from.
Her mother came closer and patted her head affectionately. "Gavin is a good man. You may find him suspicious now, but if something bad really happens to us, you can trust him with your life."
Present day
Little did her parents know, that the man she was trusting with their daughter's life, was going to bring an abrupt end to theirs.
"You should really be careful while walking down the road. I felt ashamed of what I caused, but at the moment I was not in the state of helping anyone."
Cece let out a small, sarcastic smile and said bitterly, "You speak very well."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked. It sounded like he was genuinely curious, but Cece knew better.
"As I said, your use of words is different from others," she answered in the same low and timid voice, although she knew the taunt in her words was not hidden. She inhaled deeply and made a faint attempt to cover it up. "It is a little bookish."
He laughed. "Where I come from, words are taken very seriously. Every word has its own value, its own existence, and thus every word we utter comes with its own consequence."
"That sounds esoteric," Cece replied, causing him to laugh more. He looked relieved, happy even. What made him happy? Was it because now he had her trapped in his palm? Cece shuddered imagining various scenarios that can bring doom to her doorstep.
"May I ask you something?" he asked again, looking directly at her face. Cece avoided her gaze and nodded. "Are you not well? You look paler than the last time I saw you."
Cece looked out at the fast-moving scenes. The streets and buildings were wet in rainwater, the gardens waving their heads in the wind, and a few people walking leisurely under umbrellas or inside raincoats. The car took the longer route that takes around thirty minutes longer to reach her place. Unable to hold herself anymore, she slowly leaned her back to rest her head on the back of the seat.
"I guess I am under the weather," she said. Her own voice sounded alien to her. The fear was still there lingering in her stomach, so was the dejection, but now fatigue was overpowering every other emotion playing with her mind.
"Please take care of yourself," he said. Cece chuckled. Of course, she would take care of herself. She would not allow him to ruin her any further.
"You may pull over there," she pointed at the next bus stop after ten minutes of deafening silence. It would take her another ten minutes of walking, but she was fine with that. There was no way she'd let him know her current address. That reminded her, she had given Mia's address in the contract as her permanent address. Would Mia be okay?
Before leaving the car and the man sitting inside it behind, she turned her face one last time. She wished it to be the last time to see his face. He looked even more handsome than she remembered, and bigger. She looked away at once, waving weakly.
"Miss Rose, I am glad that you agreed to sign the contract with us. It will not make any sense to you, but you are helping someone with a life-death situation, and I highly appreciate it. Thank you."