Different

Chapter 8

The sweet scent of cinnamon woke me up, but my body sank into the soft mattress and was caressed by the sheets. Getting up felt so wrong. The room had an earthy theme, just like Madame Veronica's entire house. Everything, except for the fixtures, was made of polished wood.

I thought I was late for work, but my wristwatch read 6:15, which meant I didn't need to hurry. I did a bit of stretching before going out. She left a note on the small table beside the bed. It sat beside the candles.

"Make yourself comfortable. This is your home," she wrote.

I froze while smiling at the note. No one was as caring about me as she and... Jackie. I couldn't believe how much I had forgotten about her the entire night. Not too long before I met Madame Veronica I was distraught. Her magic worked. I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for letting Jackie go.

This house was empty. That spooky stillness gave me goosebumps. I heard the echoes of my footsteps.

"You're Hayley, right?" a lady approached me while I was in the living room appreciating the fine architecture the house had.

"Yes." I smiled at her.

"I'm Samantha, one of her personal assistants."

"I'm about to leave. Is she around?"

She shook her head. "Madame usually leaves before sunrise."

I pouted my lips a bit in disappointment. "I wish I could tell her how much I appreciated her welcome."

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "She asked me to prepare breakfast."

"Oh, no. I can't stay here anymore if she's not around. It's too much. But thanks anyway."

Her nod expressed her agreement. I surveyed the entirety of the large living room that seemed to drown me in its airy and eerie space. The unlit chandelier hung exactly above my head, I guess about twenty feet away. Flowers hung on the walls, kept in place by receptacles that protruded on the walls. Narrow tables stood in every corner and near windows. On them were intricate vases.

"She loves chrysanthemums, doesn't she?" Samantha interrupted my delight.

"And dandelions, too." I crossed my arms. A picture that hung on the wall took my attention. "She's beautiful."

Samantha walked closer to the family portrait. "That's Rachel," she said before turning to look at me, "Veronica's daughter."

I nodded and proceeded to look at the man who wore a sullen expression. "Aidan, her husband." She pointed to the baby Rachel was holding in the picture. "And that's--"

"Who is she?"

We both turned our heads.

"--Rebecca," Samantha continued, her fingertip on the baby in the picture but her face in the direction of the young girl. "Hey!" she greeted the child.

I smiled at her. "Hi. I'm Hayley."

"Are you a lady?" She frowned.

I was a bit flustered. "Yeah," I replied, almost stuttering, "I think I am."

Her eyes moved as if examining the features of my face. "I'm Rebecca."

"You're pretty." I gently pinched her chin. "And smart, too."

"Veronica keeps telling me that," she responded in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone that made me giggle.

"I like you."

"Are you one of Veronica's new friends?"

I nodded. "Yes, I think she considers me as a friend, a new friend."

"She doesn't have a lot of friends."

I turned to look at Samantha, who just gave me a just-get-along-with-her glance. "Well, I don't have a lot of friends, too. Can I be your friend?"

"Maybe." She stooped. "If you can tie my shoelaces."

"Oh!" I did as she asked.

She kissed me on the cheek, and it was delightful. "I have to go to my room." She glanced at me and then at Samantha before walking off.

"She meant her study room. Her teacher will be coming over." Samantha beamed at me. "She's Veronica's granddaughter." She answered the question before I could ask it.

"Where are her parents?"

"Veronica's daughter and son-in-law died from a car crash when Rebecca was still about a year old."

"Oh" -- I didn't know how to react to that -- "I'm sorry." I stared at the picture on the wall, this time with that mild gut-wrenching awe.

Samantha reacted to my deep sigh with a half-smile and subtle tilting of her head. I wanted to ask her about personal stuff, like whether she was a witch, too, or whether she knew about Madame Veronica's witchy business. But that felt too nosy. I didn't really wanted to pry on her life.

"I really have to go. I think I overstayed."

"I can take you outdoors."

"Please."

I was too blissful to worry about things. I even forgot to ask Madame Veronica about the people who were hunting me down. It felt weird for a moment that I didn't care, that I barely felt anxious.