Page 10 of Statler

He’d made Holden one of his most trusted men; admitted him to his inner circle.

An inner circle that only a few even knew existed.

Eliza was fully aware that William had a contingent of a dozen employees with whom he met regularly, privately, and who were paid far more money than all his other employees. It was part of the things she’d been documenting, surreptitiously over the last couple years.

A lot of William’s dealings didn’t make sense to her, but she was sure they eventually would. She’d learned early on not to ask him any questions when things didn’t quite “add up” at the factory. And when Holden had been admitted to that exclusive “club” of her father’s, her new husband had also refused to give her any insight, keeping completely mum on things he said she wouldn’t understand.

Once again, she’d been underestimated.

But what could she have done differently?

Not much, because…

At that point, Holden’s joyful demeanor and positive outlook on life had seemed to start taking hits; his jubilant moods mysteriously fading away.

Eliza might have pushed him harder and longer to get to the bottom of things, but shortly after Holden’s unexpected “promotion”—and just a year after they’d gotten married—disaster struck.

Eliza’s mother came down with a fall case of the flu.

Abigail had, as was her way, poo-pooed seeing a doctor.

One week later she’d been dead from pneumonia.

Eliza had been inconsolable.

Her father, too, had a reaction that was…unfathomable. He had railed at the universe for taking the woman he loved, but had also seemed…relieved?

No matter how Eliza had looked at it, it still didn’t make sense.

By that time, however, Eliza and Holden had their own, small house, so at least she didn’t have to live with her monster of a father.

But she did have to work with him every day. That was bad enough.

With Eliza in a despondent state—having to walk on eggshells at the office, and with Holden obviously internalizing something he wouldn’t even hint at—the next year of their marriage hadn’t been good.

But they’d stuck it out, and eventually, it seemed, it looked like they might turn a corner.

She’d learned the exact right face to put on for Holden; a compliant, cheerful mask similar to the one that got her through each day, facing her father. She worked as hard as possible to reignite the flame between them by not asking any questions, and obeying his edicts.

It had worked. Sort of.

For the next few months, all was…if not satisfactory, at least copasetic.

Until it wasn’t any more.

Even with Eliza’s change in attitude, Holden began showing greater signs of uneasiness. He’d told her, gravely, that there was something odd going on in Liminal, and that as soon as he knew exact details, he’d figure out how to deal with it, then they’d move far, far away.

It was just what Eliza had been hoping to hear.

Work still had Holden tense, but after their cryptic conversation…? He’d put on a positive face. They’d spent any number of companionable evenings looking at maps and researching locations to where they might eventually relocate.

At times, Eliza had even seen glimpses of what she remembered as the old Holden.

Once again, Eliza hoped that her life might just be headed in the right direction.

Then, Holden made an announcement that was totally out of character for him, springing it on her one morning at breakfast, after they’d had the tepid sex to which she’d recently become accustomed.

From now on, he’d told her, once a month on a Saturday night, he was going to go night hunting with a group of guys from the factory.