Harp's Manor

INSTALLMENT XXXIX

December 1, 1928

How unnecessarily suspicious and rude I've been! I blush at the thought of all that I said in the last installment. I really didn't know the entirety of it, and had presumed immediately that any amount of silence meant avoidance.

Harrison finally approached me on Sunday. I was in my study writing, so when he entered I was a little startled. Whenever I've been writing for a while, I tend to become fixated on my work and block out all my static surroundings. The door opening, however, made me jump. "Harrison?"

"Rosetta," he said, something like relief in his voice. "I hope I'm not bothering you?"

I folded my arms. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," he said, closing the door. "I just wanted to talk. Are you feeling alright? No lingering chills?"

"I recovered a week ago," I said flatly.

"I know," he said. "Sometimes people say that and they're lying to appease other people, though. You're a hard worker, Rosetta. I know you are. You're exactly the kind of person to pretend to be fine just so you can work. I just want to make sure you really are alright."

"Why didn't you ask earlier, if you're so concerned?" I asked.

"Rosie, it's not like that," he began.

"Apparently not. I'd think if you actually did care, you'd bother asking how I felt back when we were all nearly killed, or maybe visited me during my illness, or any number of things that you didn't do."

"I didn't want to overwhelm you," he said, still in the same calm voice.

"I was pretty overwhelmed on my own, actually, and you weren't there to comfort me. Harrison, you've been avoiding me for the past few weeks because you don't want to talk to me. Admit it."

"Avoiding you!" he exclaimed. "Why wouldn't I want to talk to you?"

"You know exactly why!" I fired. "You heard what Hansen said on Hallowe'en. You lied to me about knowing Torres. You told me you didn't know anyone by the name except some flower-shop owner, but now I know otherwise. What do you have to say about that?"

"What? Rosie, you don't know what you're talking about. Hansen was off her rocker when they toted her away. Whatever she must have said- I don't remember, maybe she said that- was likely the raving of a madwoman."

"It was pretty interesting that she chose to pick a name we're both familiar with, and you were hesitant to explain your connection to," I said. "Really a curious coincidence, if you ask me."

"Maybe she overheard us talking the other day, or maybe she just selected the name of someone I know," Harrison reasoned. "I don't know, I really don't remember. Really, now, Rosie, this isn't such a big deal. Hansen's crazy, and she said something crazy as well. It makes sense."

"You didn't look like it was crazy talk!" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "You looked quite ashamed of everything she was saying. Stop lying to me! If you just told me the truth from the start, maybe I wouldn't be mad!"

"Are you accusing me of being the acquaintance- no, friend- of some common criminal?" Harrison asked. For the first time, there was some hurt in his voice. "Rosie, think about this. Who do you trust more: some lunatic that tried to kill one of your best friends, or me?"

He had a point; I could almost believe him, and I wanted to so badly; but I couldn't give up just yet. He had a lot to explain still. "Then why haven't you spoken to me?" I asked, but the fire in my voice was diminishing. "Why have you cut every conversation we've had recently short? Why didn't you just tell me?"