Violet

27| Losing both was not the plan

I scramble to pick up every last photograph from the floor.

"What are you doing!?" Emmett harshly whispers.

"What does it look like I am doing? No one can see any of these."

"What about Arietta? Now she undoubtedly thinks we killed Ada."

Hearing those words makes me want to stop what I am doing, lay on the ground and sob. I cannot do that right now, unfortunately, so my hands continue to grasp onto fists of photographs and stuff them into my pockets.

"Maybe you could check outside for her?" I suggest, "she could still be around. I think something else could be contributing to all of this."

"Alright," he replies cautiously, then heads off out the door.

I unstick the underside of my boot from the photograph I stepped on. Picking it up in my hands causes my body to break out in goose bumps and chills. To see William's face scrunched up like that again is frightening and I cannot even look at myself, caving before him.

I consider leaving the slip here and covering it with a box or something. Though I am sure there are many similar others in the pile that I have finished collecting. We most definitely will go through these tonight. There is no point hiding it.

And besides, I cannot lie to Emmett anymore.

Curling my mouth inwards, I let it drop into my left pocket, and leave the room.

Emmett stands outside with his arms crossed.

"Where did she go?" I inquire him half-heartedly. He gives me a frown.

"She stormed away, yet she wanted you to give back the clothing she gave you yesterday."

A mass of annoyance begins sparking from inside my chest. "What have we done?"

Emmett walks up closer to me, his eyes gentle and body calm. I wish I could be more like him; calmer and grounded. But I remember what he said to me about finding all of this unbelievable. Even after our talk in the garden last night, perhaps he still feels this way.

"We found a letter," he says kindly, "That is what we have done. We also found all the photographs they have been taking of us. No doubt there will be some sort of clue in there, whoever has been taking them most likely will not show up."

At this moment, I want him to take the side of my face again and hold me closer to him. I want to feel his warmth close to my body, to just escape from this spinning world.

But as I stand before him, guilt consumes me like wildfire, burning gaping holes into my morality.

I wince. "I hope so."

"You better return the clothes; I will wait for you in the room."

...

As I walk, I keep my head down. Scrunching the white fabric top and shorts in my hand is all I am trying to focus on. Thankfully that lady at the desk is not there when I pass by. I do not want to engage in a small talk right now.

But when I get to Arietta's door, it is slightly ajar. I peek my eye through the open crack in the door, the room is pristine. From what I can see, the floorboards are polished, the bed perfectly made and, a neat desk with a table and curtain windows.

I knock, hesitantly, in worry that something could jump right out at me from behind the door, that I have somehow not made it to the correct room or that the lady from the desk would come and I would get in trouble. No one is around the hallway right now.