HER CARE

Chapter Eleven: Chloe's End, Aria's Narrative

It's been two days since we spoke to the fearful janitor, and I've never felt more conflicted. Today is the last Saturday of the month and just like the others, we are on our way to the mansion for our monthly get-together. The car ride has all three of us, Chloe, Caleb and I paying ambience to our thoughts in quiet, as we all seem to drown in self-reflection.

If I had no doubts that there was something weird going on at the foundation before, I do now for sure. Armed with the information of her illness and troubled by the Janitor's story, I can't help but look at Grace differently now. I don't know whether to feel sorry for her or to fear her capabilities.

Moments Later...

As I seat at this table, watching all twelve of us remain quiet in fear, Grace is looking more and more like the villain in this story. The only person who seems not to be in fright of her is Lisa and there's something weird about this fact. After dinner, we all retire to our respective rooms as instructed and It's easy for me to fall asleep as soon as I plop my head onto my pillow.

At midnight, I am awoken by the obnoxious sound that is my alarm alerting me I have tons of work to complete. I need to study in preparation for my upcoming continuous assessments and complete drafting my weekly report for Grace.

She insists on receiving the draft every Monday-it's Sunday, so I'm behind schedule. I must get started.

I struggle to see at the blindingly bright sight that is my phone screen. Heavily flexing my optical muscles as they squint my eyes into two narrow strips, diminishing the hue that radiates from the screen, when I notice through the blurred vision of my voluminous eyelashes a notification text message from Chloe sent over an hour ago.

~I just found something weird in the library basement come here ASAP! ~ and in minutes, I'm there.

When I get to the basement, the lights remain off and the entrance is closed shut.  After a few minutes of scouring the perimeter, I return to the mansion when my efforts yield no results.

It's a frosty night. Gusty winds blow in chilling mists, leaving me feverishly shaken at their frigid intrusions as my chiffon laced denim jacket, does nothing to keep me warm. Prompted by the urgency of my acquisition and ridden by bad omens at the sight of Chloe's text message, I didn't think to shrug on anything warm aside from the Christmas themed pajama pants I purchased on a retail splurge last week.

I sneeze my way upstairs. Actively cursing at my undying habits of sleeping in underwear as my allergies act up when I hear a muffled scream which halts me dead in my tracks at the precedence of my curiosity. A quick minute of questioning my sanity later, the outcry sounds yet again and this time my sense of hearing triangulates to the source of the unnerving sound.

Before my brain can even comprehend, my feet wade in the stipulated direction, leading my unconsented movements to the very end of the vast west wing hall where Chloe's room lies and I immediately push open the door.

The sight before my eyes when the door flies open leaves my body quaking with eclectic feelings of fear, acquisition and shock

Two days later...

As the coffin gets lowered into the ground, the soft voices of the small choir that sings in perfect unison behind me set my hardened heart ablaze and tears stream heavily down my face. With my gaze fixated on Grace and her emotionless facial expression, I can't help but rage in fueling animosity towards her.

Chloe's death was ruled accidental and according to Grace, her autopsy results revealed that she had suffered a seizure after taking an overdose of her medication. I am well aware that Chloe followed a strict regimen after being clinically diagnosed with Cyclothymia. A mood disorder that causes emotional highs and lows, at age eight, merely three months after being adopted. It was Grace herself that made the life-changing discovery when she admitted Chloe into one of her prestigious wellness centers.

But her death as explained to us by Grace leaves my gut reeling with suspicion because when I barged into Chloe's room that night, Grace was there. Clutching Chloe's cadaver in her arms like it were a bag of her most prized possessions as Chloe's once life-filled eyes remained closed shut and her pale skin, blue as the ocean with the only signal of life being the small tears that gripped to the corner of her eyes.

In that moment, I screamed repeatedly at Grace, questioning what happened and she couldn't offer my rightful acquisition anything but a frizzled, incoherent explanation that made no sense whilst she screamed for Cornelius. As Chloe's body got wheeled away, the excruciatingly loud sirens of the ambulance dizzied my stability and suddenly everything went black.

Four days after the funeral, I wake up to the oppressive embrace of my room's four walls, each one pressing in on me like a suffocating weight. I pray that the horrifying events of the past days were just a series of vivid nightmares. But as I glance over and see Caleb sitting beside me, his eyes red and swollen from crying, the truth crashes down on me like a tidal wave, and I can't hold back the sobs. Chloe couldn't be gone. It's impossible. She just couldn't be. No.

Some time passes, and Grace summons me. "Daughter, I've called you here to ensure our stories align before the press conference. We can't afford any discrepancies in our statements," Grace announces firmly, her grip tight around the steaming mug of caffeine in her hands. I tense up at her seemingly relaxed demeanor, knowing there's more beneath the surface.

"Why, huh?! Why should there be a different version of events when there is the truth?" I scream and her eyes widen in shock

"You have no business raising your voice at me young lady! Sit down" She orders but I don't oblige. If couldn't stand up to her before, at least let me do it for Chloe now.

"No! I've had it! The secrets, the lies, the monitoring, not to mention the fucking rules! Tell me the truth, what happened that night? and why don't you want me telling anyone that you were there!" I scream. Resting my hands on her desk allowing me to look down at her and she clenches her jaw in conflict, shakily resting her coffee mug on the desk as she stands and I shiver as her body towers over mine.

"The only reason I will allow you to speak to me like you are right now is because I understand you're in pain but don't do it again or else..."

"Or else what! Huh? What! You'll kill me like you did Chloe?" I hum

"Aria!" she pitches A split second later, my frail body harshly thuds against the cold wooden floor of her office and I rub my face in a reflexive attempt to soothe the ache that lingers in the throbbing tissues of my left cheek after her assault.

"Don't you dare disrespect me like this again!" she warns through her clenched teeth. Her green-eyed gaze beaming with anger and I tremble. I can't believe she just slapped me.