“We were learning,” added Harriet.
I stood up, surprised by their confession. “Was anyone hurt?”
Swallowing hard, they said, “Father. He died.”
“That’s horrible. How old were you?”
“We were young.”
“Ten.”
“Did you like your father?” I asked. If my father had died, I wouldn’t have cared, and I hoped it was the same for the twins.
It took them a moment to answer. “We loved father.”
“He was different. Not like them.”
I knew exactly whom they were talking about. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
They said nothing, but I noticed their pupils were moving back and forth, just barely, the same way a pendulum clock swings.
“Listen, cousins,” I said, feeling suddenly sympathetic toward them. “This whole inheritance thing is silly, don’t you agree?”
“No,” they said in unison.
“Are you saying you want to fight?”
“We do what we are told,” Helen said.
“We do not have a choice,” added Harriet.
I snorted. “Of course you have a choice.”
“You do not know grandfather.”
“We must obey him.”
“You don’t have to. All three of us can run away. I can get us out of here, I promise. And once we’re free, Boaz will move us somewhere safe.”
Their eyebrows drew together, confused. “Boaz will not help.”
“This is what he wants.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Without warning, the lamp on the nightstand crashed to the floor, breaking into several pieces. All three of us turned to it in surprise.
“I wonder how that happened?” I asked.
“We will get the maid to clean it up,” said Helen.
“Right away,” added Harriet.
They turned to leave.
“Wait!” I cried, but they were already out the door.
I stooped low and picked up a large shard of the broken lamp, frustrated by its suspicious timing. After inspecting it, I walked around the room, searching all the shadows, convinced I’d find Boaz hiding among them. It had to have been him.
When the maid showed up, I gave up and left the room. I wanted to find the twins to finish our earlier conversation and hopefully convince them not to participate in our grandfather’s idiotic competition.
Passing by a bedroom window, a red-bricked building some distance from the house caught my eye. It was at least two stories high with no windows. I wondered how it was possible that I hadn’t seen it from the woods earlier that morning.
A shadow crossed over behind the building. Maybe it was one of the twins. I escaped out a back door and followed a worn path to the strange building that looked a lot like a factory. When I was within sight of the only door, it opened as if it had been expecting me. Hesitantly, I stepped over the threshold. The door closed behind me, and several lights turned on automatically.
“Hello?” I asked.
Silence.
The room was incredibly long with high ceilings. In the middle was a narrow banquet table that looked as if it could seat at least a hundred people. All along the sides of the walls were hand-carved curio cabinets filled with beautiful, antique-looking china. I would’ve considered the room quite grand if it would not have been for all the weapons and what looked like torture devices hanging above the shelves. I recognized some of them from my father’s collection. The room turned suddenly cold, and visible breath puffed from my mouth.
“You should not be in here,” a voice from above said.
I glanced up to a balcony jutting out into the massive room. Two ornate chairs rested upon them as if they were made for a king and queen. In one of them, Anne sat clenching a bottle of wine. She had finally changed her clothing into a tight blue dress.
“What is this room?” I asked. I searched for a way up there but found no stairs.
“It depends on the time of year.”
“And what would it be this time of year?” I asked.
“It’s our training room. When I was younger, I learned to use magic in something similar.”
I moved about the room, examining the different kinds of china and weapons. Many of them were etched in gold and silver and several had jewels adorning their fronts. There seemed to be no difference from the china they ate off and the weapons they killed with. “It’s interesting, to say the least.”
“It’s repulsive,” Anne spat.
I looked up, surprised.
“Just look at it all. This room is filled with beautiful and expensive things, giving the illusion that greatness happens here. But great things require windows so the world might know of them, but there are no windows. Only dark secrets that remain forever hidden.” She took a drink from the bottle; some of it trickled down her chin and onto her dress.
I remained still. Staring. Wondering.
After swallowing, Anne tilted her head and squinted her left eye. “You look like her.”
“Like who?”
“Eve.”
“That’s because I am Eve,” I said. The alcohol was clearly getting to her.