I knew that name.
Without a doubt, this was all related. This was a secret unfolding. This was a story between sisters that’d been long forgotten in my family. Or long hidden.
Tears charged down my cheeks as I watched in horror as the images of Lisabet and Mary faded to dark shadows of smoke. I tried to open my mouth to call for them to come back. I had so many questions about my past, about why my grandma Mary refused to talk about these memories in particular. The moments leading up to her sister’s disappearance seemed innocent enough. Why had she buried them so deep after losing her constant companion for the first years of her life?
A soft laugh tinkled through the woods then, and I whipped my head behind me to find a now-older Mary walking along the pathway that led from Leith to the small cottage Alder now lived in. I recognized the wide front porch and green awning that still hung above his doorstep to this day. I forced myself to watch as a man held a hand at Mary’s back. A much-older man with a thick, dark beard and a streak of silver at his temples. He was handsome, but his eyes were observant, almost in a hawkish way as he looked down upon the young and clearly in-love Mary. This man was almost old enough to be her own father, but the fine tailoring of his leather boots and waistcoat lent him a distinguished air that would impress most people.
I frowned when they paused at the edge of a large boulder, their bodies obscured by the stone as they moved closely together. He held her chin, a smile crossing his lips before he bent to place a kiss along her lips. I bit back a sense of shame for witnessing them like this, Mary’s hands chasing up his torso with the tentative movements of an inexperienced girl. He pressed his thumbs to her temples and then kissed her eyelids peacefully before smiling and backing away. He blew her a kiss, and she pretended to catch it before blowing one back. He had her entranced; that would be clear to anyone watching.
I watched silently as Mary nearly floated all the way back to the cottage, moving up the steps before giving one last half wave to the older man who’d stolen her heart. The Baron of Leith Hall waved from his place on the trail, before Mary smiled to herself and ducked into the quiet cottage. I watched the baron head back up the pathway along the loch, walking slowly around the southern edge before rounding his way along the western shore. He moved easily, as if he had no schedule, even though the moon that hung above our heads signaled that it must be well after midnight.
I decided to follow him, unsure if he could sense my presence at all. I picked my way along silently, unaware of my own feet as they followed in his footsteps around the bend in the loch and up the path. The moonlight was cast in shadow when a large stand of trees came into view. Separating the path to the loch and Heathermoor Lane, the trees were dense and backed up against the graveyard at Leith. From this vantage point, I could see the tall stone spire of the highest grave shooting into the clouds, the angel’s wings that parted on either side hanging long with cloud and shadow.
A scream pierced the air, before a cascade of rustling settled in my ears. Like squirrels rooting in the trees for nuts, the distinct crackles grew to a fever pitch before I heard a series of throaty grunts. It sounded like a stag in rut or, worse, a— Realization hit me like a tsunami. I screamed at the top of my lungs, suddenly aware someone was hurt. Someone was hurting someone else.
I ran through the woods in the direction I’d last seen the baron, tears coursing down my cheeks when I saw the hunch of his back working in a fast rhythm against a fence post. I shrieked again, begging the image to stop, praying the figure would hear me or sense me or that I would just wake up once and for all because witnessing this crime felt like far more than I was ready to bear.
“Please, stop. Wake up. I don’t want the truth anymore. Please,” I begged, eyes on the ground as I searched for a stick or weapon to beat off the attacker. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing, but by the time I looked up again, it was all over.
The baron was fastening his pants at his hips.
I watched in horror as he bent, tipping the quivering chin of Lisabet and whispering, “There, there, baby. You did good. Run home and don’t breathe a word of what happened here. No one will believe you, okay, sweetheart?”
Lisabet nodded.
He smiled, placing a tender kiss on her lips before patting her head. “Mm, your sister is the pretty one, and you are the sweet one, aren’t you? Be a good girl and run back to bed now.”
She waited for the baron to turn before swiping at the fresh tears in her eyes. “I was only trying to protect her fromyou.”
He didn’t hear her, or pretended not to, as he straightened his shoulders and then returned to the path that would lead him back to Leith.
“I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. I should still be in my bed. Mum and Dad are going to kill me.” More tears coursed down my great-aunt’s cheeks as she straightened her dress and then stopped to search for one missing shoe in the piles of leaves at her feet. Tears ran in torrents as she stood in white ruffle-cuffed socks and finally let the moment hit her.
She’d tried to protect her sister, and instead, she’d sealed her own dark fate.
Buthow?
Lisabet never found her missing shoe, giving up and heading back down the path to the cottage. I watched her sadly, walking out of the woods myself before tripping over her little leather oxford shoe. Clearly the shoe of a child, a child now touched by the hands of a monster. I set the worn leather shoe on a nearby stump before trailing off down the path in the opposite direction of Lisabet. I paused at the edge of one of the largest boulders, eyes casting out over the dark waves before another vision seemed to materialize. In the distance, what looked like a small group of mourners hovered near the lochside cottage, some crying, all dressed in dark attire.
I recognized Mary and her mother, the lines of my great-grandma’s face growing strangely familiar as the two of them approached.
“Everyone in town is talking,” Mary whispered as she wiped her eyes. “They’re saying—”
“I know what they’re saying. Don’t repeat such vulgar things. It had to have been an accidental drowning. You heard the report from the constable. She couldn't have just vanished.”
“I would never repeat this, but Mum…they’re saying she killed herself. They’re saying she went mad! I— How can I be expected to…” Mary sniffled as her mother’s arms enveloped her trembling shoulders. “Well, if those kinds of rumors get around about our family, I’ll never find someone to marry, and then I’ll grow into a mean old spinster!”
Mary’s mother soothed her heartbroken eldest daughter. “Your sister’s loss is devastating for all of us, Mary.” She smoothed a palm over Mary’s head. “I’ve saved up a little money for a rainy day. I think that day is today. Why don’t I buy you a ticket to America? Take a break for a while, how does that sound?”
“America?” Mary’s eyes shone.
“You don’t have to give an answer right now. Let’s get through your sister’s memorial first. But just promise me you’ll think about it, okay, baby?”
Mary nodded, accepting a kiss from her mother before she was left alone to stare out over the loch. When her mother was out of sight, Mary didn’t hesitate long, continuing up the pathway to Leith. I followed behind her quickly, confident I was only a witness to this particular dream. I paused when Mary lingered at the tallest stone in the graveyard, her fingertips trailing over the lengthy epitaph as she seemed to wait for someone or something.
She wasn’t waiting long. Soon the baron appeared out of Leith, his jaw set as he marched with confident strides across the property to the ancient graveyard. I approached closely enough so that I could hear his first words as he caught her chin and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Mm, my pretty girl. The tinge of pink on your cheeks belies your sweet inexperience.” He leaned closer, nipping at her ear as he hummed, “You look up at me with those innocent eyes, and I want to take it for my own.”
I cringed at the knowledge of what he’d done. Somehow, this evil excuse for a human had caused my great-aunt’s disappearance; I was sure of it.
