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I stepped completely inside and gently closed the door behind me.
“Ace?”
No answer.
“Mel?”
Still no answer. Ace was around the house far more than Mel was, but it was worth a shot to see if someone was here, especially since the door was open.
Leaving my jacket on, I began to quietly walk down the long, windowed hallway toward Caius’ office. Out of all the times I’ve wandered up to his front door, I’ve only actually stepped through the threshold twice, and neither one of those times did I go into his office.
Water dripped off my sleeves as I pushed my hood down and untucked my damp hair. The only sound in the whole house was of the raindrops tapping on the glass next to me, and as soothing as it was, I knew something was different.
Not off, but different.
I reached the door to Caius’ office and turned the handle. It opened with ease, and I came to see Caius sitting at his desk, with a pen in his hand, his sleeves rolled up, and hishair disheveled. He instantly looked up at me with a blank expression. Across from him, sitting in a lounge chair, was an older woman who had tears sliding down her face.
Oh,shit.They were having a meeting.
I think.
I immediately began to step back in shock. “Oh, I amsosorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Caius interjected. “No. It’s fine.”
After a quick glance at the woman, my eyes fell over Caius’ blank expression as he eased out his words. “Ms. Scott, this is Miss Castell. She and I have a meeting at 3 PM to discuss her future here as well. If it’s alright with you, Ms. Scott, I’d prefer she stay.”
My eyes volleyed between Caius and Ms. Scott, who agreed to the request. What was he doing? I didn’t have a meeting with him, nor did I have an interest inthisbeing my final resting point.
With hesitancy, and with a subtlewhatthefuck?look to Caius, I moved to sit in the other lounge chair that was placed next to the older woman. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be appalled at my lack of makeup, revealing the three along the side of my face, or the white roots that I haven’t dyed and were beginning to grow as a streak in my hair at the top of my hairline. But reassuringly, she barely paid me any mind as she greeted me with a heavy smile, one that seemed to take too much effort to give.
I looked around the office. It was extremely nice and well put together, but based on the rest of Purgatory, that wasn’t surprising. The walls were dark grey, with vibrant green plants in each corner. Windows lined one of the walls, allowing us to see a small section of the grounds through the rain-covered glass. Behind Caius was an unlit fireplace, and on the other wall was a large bookshelf with neatly placed books, binders, andwooden boxes. It was so organized, it looked almost staged, like it was too perfect.
I glanced to the wall behind me to see a monitor split into numerous sections, all showing different areas of the grounds. There were cameras pointing down all the paths, around the house, the greenhouse, and the front gate.
My mind flashed back to when I came here for my uncle’s birthday.
Let her in.
He was watching me. It was something I had already assumed, but now had confirmation.
“Ms. Scott was just about to sign her agreement. Right?”
I was pulled back to the conversation just as Ms. Scott nodded, and another tear slipped from her eye. She gave me a side glance and began to explain herself.
“I’m sorry,” she started. “It’s just been hard for me to think about all of this. I don’t want to experience death.”
“No one wants to, but everyone does,” Caius reassured her, and my eyes flickered over to him. This was a new side to him, one that I’d never seen, nor expected from him. He was being sincere.
Ms. Scott continued. “I know. I wish I had known about this place before my husband died. He would’ve done this in a heartbeat. And even though we wouldn’t have been together, it would’ve been nice to know he had peace.”
Although it was not my place to speak,at all,I couldn’t help but ask a question. “Why don’t you want to be buried with your husband instead of this?”
Caius answered for her. “I offered to exhume her husband, cremate his remains, and place him next to Ms. Scott in the same mausoleum. His spirit may not be signed to Purgatory, but they will be together.”
My head tilted only slightly. He was tossing around the word “Purgatory” so loosely, as if it was simply a name. As if it didn’t hold significant meaning to every person on Earth. As if it wasn’t an end all, be all.
But it was.
