Keeper of the Lost Secrets

CHAPTER TWELVE: I Watch a House of Memories Burn Down

I stood outside his office, my foot tapping against the marble as Sophie and my father talked. I heard muffled voices from the other side of the door. I could tell their voices apart easily. Sophie's voice was high and crackled at the end of every phrase or sentence. My father had an authoritative tone to him. Everyone looked at him, watching his smooth hair and listening to his smooth voice.

Sophie came out the door, losing some of her confident posture as she walked. Someone had sucked the joy out of her face, and it showed. But what lingered surprised me, a bit of determination. As much as she annoyed me, I had to admit she was astoundingly stubborn, and it pulled her through tough times.

I leaned back. If I were Sophie, I would try and hold composure. I admired how she felt her emotions without any filter, not afraid to show people how she really felt. I felt a twinge of jealously tugging at my heart.

"Fitz, you and Sophie will leave immediately. Sophie, you go wait with my wife and Biana, okay?" My father said, coming out of the room. He was the opposite of Sophie, expressionless, but I could tell the conversation was weighing on his shoulders.

Sophie nodded and stiffly made her way around the area, lost but too stubborn to say it. Once she was out of sight and earshot, my father turned to me.

"There's been a slight change of plans." My father said, leaning down so we were around the same height. "Sophie has requested that we have Washers erase their memories of her for good. The plan is still nearly the same: you take Sophie to get her things, she will drug her parents with a safe anaesthetic, and you will come back down here as soon as you're done. And please try to have some empathy for Sophie. She's going through enough."

"Okay, I got it," I nodded to my father. He offered me a small smile and turned away. He let a sigh at the same time I did, and we turned back to face each other. After a brief moment of that awkward silence, we walked away.

"Sophie, it's time to go," my voice was quiet, but it echoed across the room. Sophie was weary, I could tell from one look. She got up and nodded.

"Let's go," she said. I lead her outside of Everglen, and the shiny gates couldn't distract her from the dark time in her life it was going to be.

I leaped us to right outside her home, thankfully, with no one noticing. The light dissipated, showing us that it was dusk already, and the colours that the sky were was like a kid ran a paint brush through a paper, streaked and wild.

"I'll wait by the door, and I'll come in when you drug them," I promised. "I'll be able to tell, I swear."

"I really don't want to do this," Sophie said, and I could tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. "I can't drug them. I love them so much,"

"I know," I wanted to pass her a tissue, but I summarised that would be a bit insensitive. I opted for putting my hand on her shoulder. "That's going to make it harder. But I'm going to be here for you, and so will my dad, my mum and the rest of my family. We're going to do everything we can."

I often said that last phrase, usually to the nobility in stuffy capes and tight jerkins that came by our house to complain about something stupid. But this time, I meant it. I meant it fully and I wanted Sophie to feel that.

She nodded and thanked me in a low voice. I crouched down near a fence by the bushes, cursing the bugs that were calling me home, and watched the window.

There were blinds that were pulled up, so I was stuck making out what was happening. Sophie entered, and I could her grunts and noises from where I was. The voices got progressively softer, until I heard footsteps and found Sophie's figure disappearing. She arrived downstairs a few minutes later and looked down. I could tell her father's loud voice.

"Where do you think you're going?" He boomed, Sophie clutching the bag on her shoulder.

She held up a disk and clicked it. A chorus of gasped was heard from the inside, and three figures fell to the floor. Sophie held her breath for thirty seconds before crumpling on the floor. The only way I knew she was unaffected was the strangled sob she let out.

I rose from my place in the bushes and unlocked the door. My footsteps were silent due to Sophie's crying. I knelt down and put my hand on hers. "It's okay, Sophie, I'm here for you."

She grunted and looked up at me. I kept my face as neutral as possible. Judgement wasn't going to help anyone right now. "The Washers are going to be here soon; we should probably get going. Do you have all your stuff?"

Sophie sat up and wiped her tears, but her the streaks on her cheeks didn't disappear. "I have all my stuff here." She pointed to a small backpack.

"Are you sure? You won't have a second chance at this." I warned. Sophie's expression changed. Her eyes widened.

"I have this stuffed animal that I've always had," she fiddled with her fingers. "She's an elephant in a Hawaiian shirt."

"I'll be quick," I promised. I tore through the air, up the stairs and to a room full of pictures of who had to be a younger Sophie. I saw the elephant sitting on her bed, bathing in the moonlight from the window. I grabbed it and dashed downstairs. Sophie shouldered the bag.

I spared a glance at Sophie. She looked back at me with newfound determination. I nodded and led her out the door. It might've been a night in Autumn, but it felt like we were watching a house burn down, memories flashing through our minds. I had none.

I grabbed Sophie's hand and held my pathfinder to the light. Her hand barely gripped mine, loosely in place, barely holding on.