Shattered Innocence

Homecoming and Betrayal

I can't wait for them as the other car pulls up. I can't because even seeing this place is enough to send me running for the hills. I hate it here. The memories are already winding around me like fog on the moors that surround this hellish house. I can feel them looking for an entry, for my weakness. I can see my father's silhouette in the window the night I ran and hear my sister crying for me. Can a place really be haunted by what transpired? If so, this one is. It should be burned to the ground and left to rot, but here I am, standing before the antique, ornate wooden doors with my heart in my throat like I'm a child again.

Lifting my hand, I swing the golden door knocker and wait. A shiver goes through me as I remember that night. The lightning crackled across the sky, followed by a clap of thunder as the harsh wind whipped around me as I ran and ran. My feet were muddy and slippery, and my dress stuck to my tiny body as a deep chill set in. It took weeks to stop shivering.

No one answers, so I try the door, and it swings open with a creak, admitting me to the grand entryway. The wooden spiral staircases rise before me, and the same rug lies over the cold tiled floor. To the left is a painting of my father, Lily, and me, which was painted when we were children. Stepping closer, I see the hopeless, sad look in my eyes as my father stands with his hand on my shoulder, like a threat. I was silently screaming for someone to save me, while Lily smiled happily up at him. I despise this painting. If I could, I would tear it down and burn it.

"Hello, Miss Nora?" I hear a gasp and spin. The guys are hesitating at the door with the soldiers, but coming from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a tea towel, is Mikhail. He's older now, his hair thin and greying, and there are more wrinkles around his thin lips and kind brown eyes. He's hunched as well, when he used to stand tall and proud, but the ever-present suit is still in place.

"Bert," I whisper. I thought he would be gone. Other than Lily, he was my only friend, my only confidant. Father hired him as a butler, but he was more than that, much more. He looked after the staff and house, and he helped Lily and me grow up. Bert was kind and caring. He even taught me to play the piano and read me stories when I couldn't sleep. He was the father I always wished I had. And I left him too.

However, he knew why—at least partially. At first, he didn't, but as I grew older and more withdrawn, he started to realize something was happening. He despised my father for how he spoke to us, and I know he saw the way Father watched me. He was also aware of the nights I wouldn't spend in my bed, and when I could make it to breakfast, I was usually in pain and tired. He never spoke it out loud, but he knew.

He tried to protect me as much as he could in those final months, talking to me so I didn't retreat inside myself, and the night I left, he was the one who helped me. He brought me clothes, money, and supplies to set me free. The only thing he ever asked of me was to run and never look back.

"Nora." He shakes his head. "What are you doing here? You promised you would never come back."

"I had to." I move closer and take his hands in mine. "He's gone. He can't hurt me anymore."

He flinches and closes his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Miss Nora. I stayed to protect Lily. I often think about what happened. I should have done more."

I silence him by pulling him into a hug. "You did everything. You saved my life, Bert. I've been eternally grateful for it all these years. Thank you. I never said that."

He cups my cheeks and looks me over. "You grew up so much. Look at you. You are more beautiful than ever, but to me, you'll always be my little Nora chasing butterflies."

I can't help but smile. Someone clears their throat, and he drops his hands before straightening. "Oh, forgive me, I got carried away." He flushes slightly. "Are these your friends?"

"In a way." I smile. "Bert, I need my father's research."

"Why...? I... It would be in his office," he begins, turning to the stairs.

"No, the kind of research he hid," I correct. He frowns, not quite understanding, but he nods anyway. "Of course, this is your house."

I don't correct him. After all, it's never been mine. "I will put some tea on. You know the way." He begins to turn before looking back at me. "I'm so glad you're okay. I have wondered about you every single day since that night, hoping you had a better life. Did you?"

I nod. "I did."

"Good, good, that's all that matters." With that, he hurries to the kitchen, uneasy with showing his emotions past his duty.

"Who is he?" Ivan asks as he comes to my side.

"An old friend," I reply, watching him go. "He saved my life."

"Then we all owe him a debt. Are you okay?" he whispers low enough for only me to hear.

"I... I don't know," I admit. "But I have to be." I turn to the soldiers and others, trying to fight off the emotions whipping through me like a gale-force wind. "I think the entrance is right down—"

"Who the... please move," comes a stern, feminine voice from behind the soldiers at the door. Lily. She slides through the busy doorway and stops, her mouth dropping open as she looks around at everyone before her gaze lands on me.

"Hi, Lily," I say softly.

"What the hell are you doing here, Nora?"

"I finally came home," I answered lamely. She crosses her arms, her usually friendly eyes sparking with anger. "Get out. Get out now. You don't belong here. You're not welcome."

I flinch at the venom in her tone. "Lily," I murmur as Bert comes down the hallway. "Miss Lily, how lovely to see you."

"Bert," she greets, softening briefly before looking back at me. Her face clouds with rage and betrayal again. "I don't want you here, and neither would Dad. Get out, this isn't your house."

"Actually, it is."