Chapter 25

Returning Home

It took two days to arrive to my house by Pub's carriage; it had rained most of the way.

The morning was somber as I walked past the thick iron fence that surrounded the mansion. Flashbacks flooded back of the first time my family and I came here. The fence that once was a figure of isolation from the rest of the world now just felt foreign. Everything became so god damn foreign.

Morning dew rested on the grass as the sun began its journey to peak; my eyes fell to the shaded spot that I would spend each morning at. Tall blades of grass now covered the area and the tree that once served as a sort of sanctuary had stooped over time, appearing almost limp. The Winter had gotten the best of it, I suppose.

The goosebumps on my body did not cease and the snow that soon ensued did not help the matter. Hesitantly, I climbed the steps to my front door. I did not bother knocking.

Now, you might be thinking: what in the world are you doing back home? Shouldn't you have gone to Handley's to prevent the three from further damage? That would be true. But, something in my gut told me that I needed just a bit more closure. I hadn't the slightest of what would happen at HHR, and given the circumstances, I really didn't want to think about it. I had decided the best thing, and most likely the stupidest thing, would be some motherly advice.

"Hello?" I pushed past the heavy, polished door. It came as no surprise when I was greeted with silence. The house had stayed the exact same over the months I had been gone. Silent. Still. Dull.

The ceiling fan in the parlor hummed lamely as it spun. Melancholy–this whole house, all of it. And then, there was music.

A violin to be precise. Its vibrations hummed low and bold; I nearly felt it in my throat. A somber melody that echoed out into the mansion, crevices and all. For a moment, I stood still, frozen. But my curiosity got the better half of me when I realized that the music was coming in fact from the parlor.

Slowly, I made my way across the gleaming marble floor and into the parlor. As I stood in the center of the room, I couldn't help but feel vulnerable. My eyes landed on the man at the far end of the room, his back turned; he was looking out into the backyard. Dressed nicely in a suit, equipped with a violin, he kept his stare ahead of him.

"Hello?" I took a few steps forward. "I couldn't help but–"

And then his bow was flung out to the right with his hand, a dramatic pose now showcased. "Couldn't help but come and admire the wonderful music I bring to your drab estate? I don't blame ya."

"Wait a minute…" I knew that voice. Holy hell, did I know that voice. "Chris?"

He turned around, a wide grin spread from ear to ear plastered on his face. "Hello, old friend."

I rushed into his arm, the violin tossed aside onto the couch. He was stiff, yet he hugged me back all the same. "How…w-why are you here? Of all places–" And then I stopped and looked around in a frenzy. If Chris was here, could that mean…?

"Look, hate to burst your bubble, mate, but the other two ain't here." He retrieved the violin from the couch and resumed his spot by the window. "They're just…not. Okay? Sorry."

I felt my heart drop and throat become clogged up with all I wanted to say but couldn't. "Not…here? Where, then? Chris, please."

"I don't care, okay!?" His yell had echoed out into the halls.

Again, the room froze and I found myself more uncomfortable than relieved to see my friend. "You don't care? How could you say something like that!" I buried my face briefly in my hands. "Look, why are you even here?"

There was silence for a moment; he had kept his stare on the violin that he clung to. "I left them," he said. "I ran from them as soon as I found out what they're doing. Your mother had found me outside of HHR on her way home. She felt bad for me, I guess. Said I could come here for a bit and entertain guests and what not."

"What are Dan and Pj planning, Chris?"

Silence.

"Chris!"

The violin was dropped and tears began streaming down his face. "I don't wanna hurt anybody else, Phil. I don't wanna…" He began wiping furiously at his face to clear the tears.

"Hey…you don't have to. You know that, don't you? Just tell me where Dan and Pj are and we can sort this all out." I really did want to console him, but I hardly knew anything about the situation. Could I really be of much help?

He shook his head. "Oh, Phil," he cried. "They're different now. Ain't the same Dan and Peej since you left. They just want to burn the whole place to the ground; they're not thinking, they're really not. We don't laugh anymore. Games are a thing of the past. Dan hardly ever says a word; it's scary, Phil! I don't wanna be a part of it. You understand, don't you? Right?"

My head started spinning. "Yes…of course. Please, just tell me, where are the other two?"

He wipes at his tears again. "They're camping outside of Handley's somewhere, waiting for the right time to infiltrate, probably. I haven't spoken to them for a while."

"Good lord…" I sat down and once again buried my face in my hands.

Chris had been pacing the room when he I heard him stop abruptly. There was a moment of silence. "Phil, you really ought to know something important, though."

"What is it?"

"Dan has been–"

And then footsteps sounded from behind me. There was a whispered apology, a loud clang, and then, darkness.