Mischa Lecter

Chapter 3: Talking

Hannah stood before the steps that lead to the garden just outside the door. Her left hand rested on the frame of the door, hesitating. She took a short look behind her before stepping out into the gentle wind that blew threw the grounds. Her rust color hair started to dance to the wind, it blew over her stone face and sorrowful eyes. Her white gown joined the dance and made her look especially stiff as she walked, barefoot, across the pebbled path that encircled the garden in elegant patterns. She stumbled and caught her balance on a near by tree. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing towards the rushing water that made a beautiful waterfall into a pond.

She collapsed onto her knees under the weeping widow that grew next to the water source and stared into the water. She stayed, frozen, like that for 15 minutes until footsteps approached behind her. She blinked as she listened to the rocks shift, knowing it was her mother approaching her.

"Sweet heart, you need to come back inside."

She didn't answer, just stared into nothingness.

"Hannah, please. You'll get sick. Come back inside, it's almost time for lunch."

Hannah leaned back on her heels, but stayed on the ground.

"Hannah..."

The only sound between them was the water and wind.

Clarice sighed and pulled the house coat she had been wearing and put it over her daughters shoulders before turning and walking back inside, she looked back over her shoulder before shutting the bottom half of the door and returning to the kitchen.

Throughout lunch and the time after, Clarice watched out the windows and listened for the door. But their daughter never moved. After a few more hours, when the sun was just beginning to set she spoke, "I'm getting worried."

Hannibal looked up from the book he was reading and watched her.

"You're not?" she asked quickly

He shook his head, "No, I'm not."

Clarice turned around, her arms crossed over her stomach, "Why not? She's been out there in the same position for hours."

"I'm aware." he answered, closing his book and walking over to stand behind her as she turned back to the window of the second floor. From there they could clearly see the girl, holding her mothers robe around her shoulders and staring into the pond.

"Clarice." He said as he reached out and touched her arms gently.

She leaned back into him, her eyes never leaving the girls thin form.

"She's dealing with her brothers death in a way she is comfortable with. She will talk to us in time, but until then, we must let her be."

After a few moments of silence Clarice spoke again, "Maybe we should tell her."

Hannibal didn't have to ask what they needed to tell her, he nearly smiled, "She already know, my dear."

Clarice took a deep breath when she saw Hannah stand and turn walking back towards the house. Half way there she stopped, and looked up. She made eye contact with both of her parents and blinked before returning to the inside of the house and shutting the doors.

"What's going through her head?" Clarice whispered, her eyes closed.

"Pain." He answered looking down at her.

She looked up at him, "Has she spoken a word to you?"

"A few days ago, and a few words here and there."

"She hasn't said a word to me since she woke up."

Hannibal nodded, "I'll speak to her."

Clarice turned and smiled, "Thanks." She kissed him on the cheek before walking out of the room.

A few moments later Hannah stood at the door watching her mother walk down the hallway. She turned to look at her father and cocked her head to the side.

"Your mother wants me to talk to you."

She nodded, "I heard." she said as she walking deeper into the room and sat on the couch.

Hannibal walked towards her and placed the side of his hand on her cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes swimming in curiosity as she shivered, he shook his head and pulled a blanket from a nearby chair and draped it over her shoulder, pulling it close around her, "Better?"

She nodded slowly, "Yes, thank you."

"Your mother said you haven't spoke to her in a while."

She shook her head, "I haven't had anything to say."

He watched her with intensity that she returned. "Not even about your brothers death?"

She was silent.

"It's rude not to answer when asked a question, Hannah."

She sighed, "No, I do not want to talk about my brothers death."

"And why not?"

"I just don't." she said, ice trailing with her words.

"There's no need to be angry at me."

She rolled her eyes and leaned back, focusing on a painting on the wall.

"You disagree?"

She cast him a glance that asked him if he had any common sense at all, "No, of course I don't disagree with you, Father." She said standing up and walking towards the fireplace.

"There's no need for sarcasm."

She glared at him in the reflection of a picture frame, "Father, you pulled me away from my brother. You didn't even try to save him."

"There was nothing I could have done, Hannah." He walked over to her, turning her around gently, "You were my first priority," he lifted her chin and found tears in her eyes, "You always have been."

Her face softened a little and she hugged him tightly, weeping into his chest. He smoothed her her down and held her as she cried.

"I don't think I could handle talking to Mom yet, I'm not ready."

"Hannah, you'll never think you're ready. She needs you right now, more than she ever has before."

She looked up at him, and nodded. Hugging him, as best she could with one arm, again and walked out of the room and followed the path her mother had before.

She opened the door quietly and found her mom laying on the couch with something in her hands. Hannah, just as silently as her father, walked over behind her and realized it was her bracelet.

She realized the arm that usually carried the small trinket was in a brace. She walked around the couch and looked down at her mother.

Clarice looked up and wiped her face clean of tears quickly, her hand wrapping around the bracelet tightly, "Hannah. What are you doing in here?"

Hannah opened her mouth to say something but found she couldn't think of anything. She bit her lip and sat down next to her mom, slowly leaning her head on her mothers shoulder. Clarice smiled a little and put her arm around her, now, only child and held her close.

After a few moments of silence passed Hannah spoke, "Did you know Dad was the one who sent that to me?"

Clarice nodded, "I assumed it was him."

Hannah nodded, "Did you see the inscription?"

"What inscription?"

Hannah showed her mother the line from the poem, then explained how Hamal had helped her figure it out, she smiled after the story was over, "He was smart."

Clarice nodded, "He loved you very much."

Hannah nodded, "Yeah... I know."