The Pianist

Chapter Twenty

It was hard for Molly to even live with herself in the two awful days that passed. She cried any chance she got, which was often. It was difficult for even the smallest breath to reach her lungs as well. The weight of guilt and regret seemed to only grow heavier and heavier as each moment passed. She had caused a man to die. Her actions had resulted in the death of a person whom had only wanted love. 

Molly did not receive a moment alone, however. Every second of the day, her father stood over her shoulder or just off to the side, pacing wildly. Even while she slept, Blaise was always within a very close distance. Molly figured her weeping must be very annoying, but she made no moves to stop it. There was no stopping it at this point. It was like seeing Raymond dead had burst the dam that held all her tears inside.

But that was not all. Her mind could not keep from wandering back to Gerard as well. This happened less often than it did with the guilt of Raymond, but it happened often. Her memories of the beautiful Black Vein standing at her balcony, arms outstretched like a crucifix, moments away from leaping twenty stories was enough to make Molly weak with agony. She did not even know if he was okay or in immense amounts of pain, if he even was still alive.

Molly did not know this, but, miles away in the darkest cell in the deepest part of Empire's jail, Gerard cried black, wet tears down his face, his eyes dark and black, scarred mouth open in a deep scream. His body convulsed forward, the UV chains around his arms clenching deeper into his wrists, black liquid bursting from his lips like vomit. 

Fourty-eight hours after the Toivonen boy had been found dead, Molly lay sleeping on the floor of her father's study still in the same white gown she had worn to the other skyscraper two days ago. She had not even showered. The only time Molly had eaten or drank anything was once when one of their butlers brought Blaise a tea, and he denied it, pushing it off to Molly. She wasn't even hungry though. She felt nothing except for a raw hole of emptiness, regret, and guilt.

When she did sleep, like now, it was not for very long. Perhaps a few hours or so before she awoke, tears already in her eyes, startled by her own visions inside her subconscious mind. Molly was in the middle of her little nap when she was suddenly awoke by strong hands shaking her shoulders. She was frightened suddenly, her emerald eyes flinging open as she shrieked, flailing around a bit as the hands tightened around her shoulders.

"Settle down!" The familiar deep voice snapped, releasing Molly from it's grips. Molly blinked her eyes open to see her father standing in front of her, dusting off his hands. The woman could feel her heart still pounding as she sat up slightly, leaning on her hands on the rug, gasping loudly. 

"Y-You didn't have to do that," Molly whispered, rubbing a shaking hand over her face.

"Yes, I did," He replied and then pointed one hand towards the door. "We're going to see Markley today," Blaise hissed, taking a step back and pulling his pipe from his pocket. Molly had been noticing that his smoking had rose exponentially since the worst day in Molly's memory.

Markley. Molly suddenly felt a sting of anguish and anxiety as she paused in rubbing her eyes. Markley, Blaise's closest friend, economic supervisor, and lawyer. There was only one reason why Molly would be going with Blaise to see him, and that was only if it had to do with legal issues. Molly felt sick suddenly, but she knew there was no use in trying to argue her way out of it. She was already in enough trouble as it was.

Molly very shakily rose to her feet, feeling incredibly weak and wobbly. Her stomach ached from lack of food, but she ignored it and folded her arms around her stomach. Blaise watched her, his eyes hazed with intense, incredibly disgust and disappointment, his hand around his pipe. "We have to tell Markley, Molly," Blaise barely whispered, watching Molly stare down at the floor. This surprised Molly, and she raised her eyes towards her father apathetically. "It's the only choice," Blaise continued, tightening his grip around the pipe.