Chapter 7 -Closing the door

My footsteps echoed through the house, accompanied by the familiar soft padding of Mr. Fluffy's paws as they traversed the old, creaky wooden floors. The air felt heavy with anticipation as I went to the attic, where my little corner of the world resided.

The ascent to the attic was a climb into my sanctum, a place of solace that held the remnants of my past and my mother's memory. I approached the door to the attic with a sense of longing, for it was a treasure trove of memories I held dear.

With a deep breath, I pushed the door open and ascended the worn wooden stairs, my heart beating a little faster. I didn't know what had changed in three days, but I was about to find out.

The attic's eaves were gently lit by the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the small, cobweb-laden window. It was a room filled with the echoes of years gone by, a space suspended in time where remnants of my mother's life had been lovingly preserved.

My eyes quickly scanned the room, hoping to find everything just as I had left it, a poignant connection to the life I had lost. My mother's old dresses and keepsakes were placed in a trunk, safeguarding the legacy of a woman I had never known.

But as my gaze fell upon the spot where the trunk should have been, a shiver of alarm ran down my spine. It was empty. The trunk with all its precious contents was gone.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding with disbelief and sorrow. My mother's wedding dress, a symbol of dreams and aspirations that could never be fulfilled, had vanished. My mother's delicate glass slippers, timeless and elegant, were also nowhere to be found.

The room felt emptier, devoid of the presence that had once warmed me. All that remained was the ghostly residue of a life I could never truly grasp. My fingers trembled as I moved from corner to corner, hoping against hope that my mother's belongings might have been moved or that this was some bizarre misunderstanding. The tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the extent of my loss. These items did not just belong to my mother; they were a connection to the family I had lost.

A storm of emotions raged within me. Anguish, betrayal, and disbelief clashed with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. My mother's legacy had been plundered, and I felt as though my history was being erased.

I turned and made my way to the window, the final rays of daylight illuminating my tear-stained face. The horizon beyond was painted in shades of crimson, a poignant reflection of my tumultuous emotions.

I stood in the attic, caught between a past I cherished and a future I feared. My stepmother's cruelty had reached a new low, and it seemed that no corner of my life was safe from her venom.

I made my way to the kitchen and confided in Mrs. Shirley. 

"Mrs. Shirley, my mother's things are gone." She listened attentively; her kind eyes filled with compassion. My words resonated with her, and the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her heart.

She knew Lady Clarissa all too well. The lady had shown her true colors over the years, especially after my father's disappearance at sea. My stepmother's extravagant lifestyle had strained the family's finances to the breaking point, leading to the sale of many treasured possessions, including the servants who had once been part of our household.

Mrs. Shirley recalled the days when the mansion was abuzz with life, bustling with activity, and teeming with happy servants who served the Masters of the house with dedication. But that had changed with Lady Clarissa's demands and extravagant desires.

With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Shirley leaned in closer to me. "My dear, I fear that Lady Clarissa's intentions regarding your mother's belongings were far from noble. She seeks to sell them, and I believe she has already attempted."

My eyes widened in alarm. "Lady Clarissa wouldn't... Those are my mother's precious belongings. They are all I have to remember her by."

Mrs. Shirley nodded gravely. "It grieves me to say this, but I overheard Lady Clarissa in the attic, rummaging through your mother's belongings with the intent to sell them. I couldn't bear to see her strip your mother's memory from you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as the total weight of the situation settled upon me. I realized that I couldn't trust my stepmother with anything that held sentimental value.

"Come, my dear, I have something to show you." Mrs. Shirley nodded and gestured for me to follow her. We padded down the hall and entered Mrs. Shirley's room, which was neat and cozy. A small, unassuming trunk rested at the foot of the bed.

"Here it is, dear," Mrs. Shirley said softly, a warm and reassuring smile on her face. She knew how much this trunk meant to me: a connection to my mother and a treasure trove of memories.

My hands trembled with anticipation as I knelt beside the trunk. The room was filled with reverence as I slowly opened it. Inside, neatly arranged, were my mother's wedding dress, the delicate glass slippers, and a few other cherished items that had belonged to my parents.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt gratitude and sadness. I couldn't help but hug Mrs. Shirley tightly. "Thank you, Mrs. Shirley, for hiding my mother's belongings."

Mrs. Shirley patted my back gently, her voice filled with affection. "It's your legacy, dear. Keep it safe, and may it remind you of your parents' love and the strength within you."

I nodded, overcome with emotion. "I will, Mrs. Shirley. I promise to keep their memory alive."

I carefully placed my mother's dress and the glass slippers into the leather trunk. I took a moment to run my fingers over the delicate lace and beading, my eyes shimmering with sorrow and determination.

Mrs. Shirley handed me a sealed envelope with an address written on it.

"My brother, Mr. Adrian the Alluring, lives near the palace. He'll help you find your way in the world."

I took the envelope, my heart touched by Mrs. Shirley's unwavering support.

"I'll find him and make you proud, Mrs. Shirley."

"I'm already proud, my dear. Now, go chase your dreams, and remember, your mother is always with you."

With a final embrace, I closed the trunk. My journey began, carrying my mother's legacy and the dreams I'd held close to my heart.