13. ~ Awakened ~

CHAPTER 13

As Alex neared the desk and saw the pictures I held, I could see the severity of his illness. His frame quivered. His skin was impossibly white.

"What have you done?" he snapped at Mrs. White.

"It was time she knew the truth," Mrs. White snapped back.

"How could you?" I cried.

"I told you, you wouldn't understand. I'm sorry." Alex's face showed a deep, almost convincing remorse, but the distance between us had become infinite. "Please listen?—"

"Listen to what? More lies?" I loathed myself for falling into his trap and into his arms. The ring on my finger that felt so magical hours ago now burned like fire. I couldn't take it off fast enough. "I don't want to see you ever again!" I dropped the ring onto the desk, and with it my heart. "I wish your wife still wore it! I wish she wasn't dead!" I stormed past him out of the office, my footsteps echoing in the hollow corridors.

Tears blinded me as I drove away. I had left my happiness at Oak's Place—a fleeting illusion. Alex had eliminated his pregnant wife—my father's ward—for financial gain. He also stole my family from me. Had my father indeed suspected Alex's betrayal? Or had he died trusting Alex? I would never know.

Why had life dealt so unfairly with me? Why fall in love only to be used and deceived? How could Alex be this cruel? The questions went round and round in my head with no answers, at least not ones I could understand or accept.

I couldn't face Granny, not yet. I drove around town for hours before I parked the Buick and wandered the streets like a soul in limbo, suspended in a transition between heaven and hell. And I found no consolation in Mrs. White's assurance that Alex's punishment was to have fallen for me, for I doubted he knew what love was.

Before long, the air turned from stiflingly warm to chilly as the sky darkened with menacing clouds, and thunder rumbled in the distance. At that moment, I stopped crying for Alex, my sadness and anger replaced by a desire to learn more about my roots. I had enough knowledge about the area where Alex came from to send out some inquiries. If heaven smiled upon me, I might connect with distant family and learn more about my parents. This new determination allowed me to breathe without the walls of my chest squeezing against my heart.

I returned to the car and went home, where a group of sisters chatted with some locals near the entrance. In preparation for tonight's fundraiser, the sisters wore red habits, a drastic change from the usual black. They radiated joy. I envied them. They didn't have to deal with the deceit of love.

I entered the kitchen and found Granny waiting at the table. I had to make up an excuse to escape her presence. She would see right through me, and the wound felt too fresh to discuss it just now.

"Where have you been?" she asked, removing her spectacles to wipe them with a cloth. "Mr. Sterling called earlier looking for you, so I know you weren't at his house."

I couldn't believe his nerve. Hadn't he done enough damage? Did he worry about what I might do with the truth? Coward.

"I went shopping."

"Am I supposed to believe that? You look like something the cat brought in."

"It must be the price of clothing. I looked and looked but couldn't bring myself to buy anything. What I did get was an awful migraine." I rubbed my temples to back my lie.

"All right. We'll continue the discussion later." Her tone told me she wasn't fooled.

"I need to lie down." I was already on my way out of the kitchen.

"Make sure to take some aspirin. The sisters and I will be at Friar Thompson's parish. Call me if you need me."

"Thanks, Granny."

Minutes later, a bus picked up the sisters. And as if in punishment for my lie, pain throbbed behind my forehead. I needed aspirin, after all. I returned to the kitchen, found the bottle in the cupboard, and swallowed three.

The telephone rang, shrill and determined. Fearing it was Alex, I ignored it. But when it persisted, I reluctantly lifted the receiver, hoping to prevent my head from shattering.

"Hello."

"Florence?"

"Zaira?"

"Oh, I'm so glad to reach you. Mrs. White said you resigned. Is that true?"

"I'm sorry, Zaira, but I have a splitting headache. Let's talk tomorrow?"

"Wait, I called to tell you that Mr. Sterling might not survive the night. As I told you this morning, the doctor is out of town, and we can't bring down his fever or stop his vomiting." Zaira waited for me to say something. I couldn't. The endless wave of emotions had left me numb. "I don't know what happened this morning, but he needs you."

"Mrs. White can take care of him." She had been his lover. Something I could never have anticipated. But in retrospect, it explained her obsessive behavior. She would give anything "just to be with him one more time . . . to feel his hands . . . his lips . . . his passion." Well, she could shine now.

"For goodness' sake, Florence! He wants you by his side. He loves you."

He doesn't know what love is. "Try calling the neighboring towns for a doctor," I suggested icily. "Good night, Zaira."

Tracing my steps back to my room, I wondered how I would feel if Alex died tonight. Could I forgive the man who caused my father's death? Could I ever love someone else?

It might have been the aspirin, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, sleep transported me to oblivion, where I hoped to escape my nightmare.

"Florence, Florence," a distant voice called. I tossed and turned, and somewhere between rest and restlessness, I heard it again. "Wake up! Wake up!"

"I don't want to wake up," I protested deliriously.

"Wake up! You have been given an opportunity to wake up!" the voice persisted.

I blinked awake. The lamp on the nightstand cast a faint light through the space, and in the penumbras in the corner, I saw the ghost. He had always been at the edge of my vision, hiding in the woods, never too far but never too close. And now here he was, in my bedroom. I bolted upright, struggling to slow my frantic breathing as my mind snatched at shreds of logic. An apparition couldn't hurt me, could it?

"You . . . have been watching me," I stuttered. "Who are you? What do you want?"

He came out of the shadows, his looks somewhat settling my uneasiness. He was far from the eyes gleaming with otherworldly malice and the vicious energy I had unconsciously conjectured. In front of me stood a young man dressed in military attire with an angelic face and a childlike innocence about him. He had brown hair neatly arranged to one side, and his chocolate eyes reflected an inner circle of golden flecks, as if a fire burned within. As his attire led me to believe, he must have been involved in Alex's past.

"I'm a guide." He smiled—one of the sweetest expressions I had ever seen—and peace swept through me, washing away the grief of the past hours and the fear of his presence. "Come." He held out his hand, and I took it. "Look." He pointed to the bed as I stood beside him.

I gasped, struggling to find words. "I'm dead." My inert physical body lay under the blanket. "I'm dead." In utter confusion, I raised my hands to look at them. I couldn't understand how I still had a body. It was lighter and deprived of tangibility, but it was a body. It was still me. I even wore a blue dress like the corpse on the bed. I was a reflection in a mirror—a reflection filled with intelligence. In other words, a ghost.

"You're not dead. But we have a short window of time to accomplish our purpose."

"What do you mean? What is happening?"

"I'm here to take you back in time. You are caught in a web of lies, but if you come with me, you'll know things as they are and as they were. Your mortal body is subject to time and space, making it impossible to leave its sphere. But your spirit body is not. We can see and hear anything that exists and has ever existed. We are in the presence of truth. But we must hurry because your physical body can only briefly withstand the separation from its spirit form before it shuts down, preventing its unification. And then you'll truly be dead. But it's your choice. You can go back to your life and stay in darkness, or you can awaken to the truth."

His eyes held wisdom that contrasted sharply with my limited understanding. Life was short and complex, and this temporal separation—inconceivable as it seemed—bore a great weight. I feared walking away from my mortal body into the unknown. But the immediate return to mortality to face Alex's evil deeds appealed far less. If I returned to reality, I knew that even with my focus on researching my roots, I would be on the verge of madness. For, try as I might, I couldn't deny or forget that I still loved the man. After all, I didn't think that truth could get any worse than it already was. "I want to know. I'll come with you."

"You have chosen the right path."

I followed him up the staircase leading to the tower, but instead of the terrace, we emerged in a green field, the sun shining brightly above us. The surreal scenery reminded me of a museum painting or, more so, my drawings.

"Where are we?"

"The New Forest."

Then, in the blink of an eye, our surroundings changed, and we stood at the edge of an impressive manor surrounded by ancient trees. Several gardens sprawled across the grounds, housing all kinds of shrubs, water fountains, and statues carved to represent angelic beings, humans, and animals. We neared the door, and at eye level, I saw the words Forti Radici inscribed on the stone wall.

"I'll leave you here until it's time to go back," my guide said.

"Wait, you can't!" I panicked. "I don't know how to function in this form."

"Don't fret. You'll know what to do. Besides, nobody can see or hear you."

"That's not necessarily good, is it?"

"Listen, all you have to do is find yourself." He signaled to the entrance.

"Find myself?" I sputtered. "What does that mean?"

"Trust your instincts. Don't waste time. I'll come back for you."

"Wait, you haven't told me your name."

He vanished with a reassuring smile. Who was he? Why did I feel I somehow knew him?

I turned to the door, a more imminent problem pressing upon me: I would be stuck in this space until I fulfilled my purpose, trapped with the daunting warning that I must hurry if I wished to return safely to my mortal body.

I reached for the brass doorknob, marveling at its beauty. When my hand went right through it and into the house, I smiled. My spirit wasn't bound by mortal limitations. It all made sense now. I passed through the wooden door into the foyer.

Sunlight spilled through the high windows, sending a golden glow across the marble floors. Straight ahead, the staircase, its thick banister defined by rich tones, led up to a second-story landing that split in two directions. No less impressive was the artwork displayed on the walls and stunning hand-painted images on the ceiling. When had I seen all this?

"Don't waste time," the warning echoed in my head.

I floated down a lengthy corridor, then passed through a set of double doors with intricately carved flowers. A spacious kitchen with a massive table at its center welcomed me. My gaze jumped from the fireplace to the range cooker to the window, where, outside the glass, a young woman in a long red dress moved briskly toward the back door. Her waist-length honey-blonde hair complemented her delicate facial features. Forgetting I was invisible, I momentarily panicked as she entered.

Oblivious to my presence, she moved to a chair, and my mouth dropped. She looked exactly like me. Except for the longer length and style of her hair, we were identical—just like the picture Mrs. White had shown me of my supposed mother.

While I grappled with this reality, my curiosity drew me close as she extracted a letter from her pocket. Her face lit up as she unfolded it.

April 2, 1915

My dearest Florence,

I'm happy to inform you that an opportunity to come home sooner than expected has presented itself. I hope to see you in a matter of days.

I'm the luckiest man alive to be your father, and I can't wait to see your beautiful smile again. I trust that Mrs. Allerton is taking excellent care of you as always.

Love,

Your father, General Marcus Contini

PS. Lieutenant General Alexander Sterling will accompany me. Please have Mrs. Allerton fix one of the upper rooms for him.

Was I dreaming? No. I had never felt more alive—my senses never more sharp, clear, or alert. The daughter of General Marcus Contini wasn't separated from him at birth, and, more so, he'd lived to raise her. A slight shimmer at her wrist caught my eye. I glanced at my intangible bracelet. The same. Only hers wasn't worn with time.

"All you have to do is find yourself." The guide's instructions hit me like light piercing through darkness.

Piece by piece, the puzzle of our forgotten past came together. It didn't matter whether it was her past or mine; we were one and the same. It hadn't been my mother in the picture. It was me. How or why, I didn't know. But somehow, I'd lived before.

As she rose from the chair, a magnetic force pulled me to her, and my spirit flowed into her body. Suddenly, our minds became one and the veil clouding my memories fell away, allowing me to remember my life twenty-two years prior.