As the days went by, Geoffrey felt confined in his aunt and uncle's home. The air was heavy with unsaid words, and the walls were oppressive.
His mother's scream echoed in his mind each time Danny or Catherine's voice floated down the hallway. He was unable to tolerate it. To make matters worse, their domestic servants gossiped about him all day in the kitchen, thinking no one could hear them. But he could, he heard every comment they made about him and his parents—the good, the bad, the ugly.
He, therefore, retaliated in the only manner he could. He transferred his aggression to them, firing as many that crossed his path without any remorse or explanation.
With his keen hearing still reeling from the stinging whispers of the domestic workers one morning, he sat at the dining table for breakfast. Just beneath the surface, his rage and anguish boiled.
He suddenly lost his temper, pounding his fists into the table and knocking plates to the ground. His voice quivered with anger as he yelled at the attending maid who was standing by dutifully. "You're fired!"
Looking confused and shocked, the slender maid fidgeted, uncertain of what she had done wrong. The other workers nearby looked at each other anxiously. But Geoffrey simply looked away, his face contorted in a mixture of pain and defiance, while his aunt hurried down after hearing the noise from her room.
The maid let out a gasp. Though she knew better than to dispute, she stuttered. "Mister?"
"I just fired you! Get your belongings and get out!" Geoffrey didn't even look at her. That week, Geoffrey had fired three other employees. The fact that they worked for his aunt was irrelevant. Catherine's rising annoyance with him was irrelevant as well.
All of them, he believed, were contributing to the issue—whispers in the dark, condemning him, treating him like a burden. He wouldn't put up with it.
After his breakfast, Catherine faced him at last. With her arms crossed, she forcefully stated, "This has to stop. You're behaving in an autocratic manner. You need to remember that you're in my house and they're my staff. It's not in your place to hire or fire my employees."
Geoffrey put his drink down and spoke slowly as he did. "Maybe if you had hired competent employees, I won't have to do this."
"They worked for me, Geoffrey, not you. I believe they're competent enough so you don't have a say. This is my house and I call the shots."
He yelled to Catherine's surprise, "Very well then! I'll return to my house where I can call the shots."
Catherine scowled. "What?"
But he paid her no mind. Taking out his phone, Geoffrey called his father's driver. "Come get me Mr Marcus, I'm returning home now.
Leaving his aunt stunned with her mouth slightly opened, he stood up and left the room, swinging his walking cane around for direction.
************************************************
Geoffrey wasn't as relieved as he had imagined when he returned to his parents' estate. The house was too large. Too silent. Too many ghosts.
The staff there was just as malicious as his aunt's employees. Presuming he was unaware due to his blindness, they whispered and gossiped about him all day.
"I heard he fires people like he owns the place when he lived with his aunt." "The tragedy must have messed with his head, he used to be a sweet boy." "Sweet boy indeed. You all better be on your toes if you want to keep your job." "The poor boy harbors resentment. Is he to blame? "We better try to make some money off him if we're at the risk of losing our job." "Let us swap his expensive brand wristwatches with fake ones" They all burst out laughing and another comments goes, "What blind person uses designer wristwatches?"
As Geoffrey sat in his chamber listening to the talk going on downstairs, his jaw tensed. Soon, he heard his possessions being rifled through with a gentle clinking sound.
He fired them all. Each and every one, except the house manager, a middle aged woman who had been working with his parents for a long time.
They believed him to be nasty, irrational, and merciless. He knew but he let them believe whatever they wanted. It was preferable to feeling sorry for himself.
Three days later, Catherine showed up, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she approached her cousin with deliberate, calculated steps. Dryly, she remarked, "I came to see if you've completely lost your mind."
Geoffrey stayed seated in front of the empty fireplace in the opulent living room. "Don't waste your time reprimanding me if that's your goal. I'm no longer in your house."
"You've let go of practically every employee in this house, Geoffrey. What is wrong with you?"
"They were taking things from me, okay? They did nothing but gossip the whole day."
Catherine's calm exterior was broken by her frustration. "You can't stop people from talking, young man. Do you know how long those people you fired have worked for your parents? And rather than behaving like a tyrant, couldn't you have reported it?"
Geoffrey's voice was coldly calm as he cocked his head slightly. "They're no longer working for my parents, auntie. My home doesn't need robbers. And why are you complaining this time? This is not your house."
Although enraged, Catherine heaves a sigh and calms her temper. She straightened and asked calmly, squinting her eyes, "Why do I have a feeling that there is something else going on with you. This isn't only about the employees, is it? Everything makes you angry."
Geoffrey's fists clenched but he said nothing.
Catherine continued, "I understand your grief, but—"
Geoffrey suddenly interrupted, his voice as harsh as a sword, "No, you don't understand. There is no way you'd understand."
Catherine took a deep breath. "You cannot continue in this manner, Geoff. I will not allow you to ruin yourself while I'm still alive."
A chilly laugh escaped his lips. "You won't let me ruin myself? That's quite rich and ironic, coming from you. I'm sorry but I must ask you to mind your business at this point."
At last, Catherine lost her patience. She flared up and shot back, almost shouting at the top of her voice. "I'll be forced to ground you if you continue in this manner. And if I see no changes in your attitude, I'll block your accounts and seal it off for good! Do you hear me? Until you start behaving like a sensible human being, you won't have a dime to your name!"
Geoffrey froze. It looked like his aunt was showing her real true colours for once. If so, he should show his too. He moved closer to her while smirking menacingly, "You think you can get rid of me the way you got rid of my parents?"
Catherine stopped short, obviously shocked. "What?"
Geoffrey stood his ground, with an inscrutable look. "You are a murderer Aunt Catherine. I know what you did to mom and dad."
Catherine gasped for air. She quickly looked around the room to see if anyone was around or listening to the grave accusation her nephew made against her. "Stop, Geoffrey. What manner of talk is this? Are you drunk or something?"
"You must have thought I'm unaware of what you did because I did say. But you and your husband are going to be surprised." Geoffrey stated, raising his voice. He added, "You killed them."
Catherine flinched. She could feel the hairs on her body standing and forming terrible goosebumps. She was so shocked that the only thing she could think to say was, "That is an awful thing to say, Geoff."
Geoffrey smirked again. "Are you curious as to how I know?" His voice faded to a near w
hisper as he drew even closer. "Because a hooded man pushed our car into the abyss while my mother yelled Uncle Danny's name."