It's the next day, and Brandon left for work. With the sky hidden behind the opaque clouds, the air carried hints of gloominess, sparking Cherry's need to visit the grave of her child in the backyard.
She limped towards the garden and, when she saw the lone tiny tombstone, crouched to brush off the discoloring leaves.
Downcast, her eyes lingered on the moistened ground filled with remnants of the morning rain until a small rock rolled into her vision. At first she thought the rowdy wind carried it until more stones joined in. Now her brows reached her hairline as her chin tipped up—following the trail left behind by the rocks her gaze ended at the forest.
From within the bushes of foliage, a hand stretched out, waving for her attention, and when Cherry's mouth trembled in preparation to elicit a strangled cry for help, a different hand appeared. This one is holding a sketchbook with words written on it in haste.
『Please don't scream or make noise. I'm not someone dangerous.』
That's exactly what a dangerous person would say. Her body turned just enough to press her hand on the ground, ready to bolt if the stranger decided to leap at her from the bushes.
The stranger flipped the page, revealing more words.
『I'm a private detective sent by someone to investigate your husband. You may be in grave danger.』
Cherry nose scrunched up. That's nonsense.
Another soft rustle.
『I'm telling the truth. You must not have noticed that there are cameras everywhere in your home. Look carefully to your upper left, but don't make it too obvious. He may be watching you right now』
Gingerly she looked over her left shoulder, tilting her head up, and there it was — a camera latched in the awning's corner of their roof. Her visor stiffened, and her fingers lost their warmth. Brandon never told her about the security cameras.
She brought her attention back to the detective, watching how another page turn flipped her stomach upside down.
『Aren't you curious about why he hid this from you? My client hired me because they were worried about you. The car accident wasn't your fault.』
The question of who this client was never left her mouth as her lips thinned and she sneaked a look sideways. She couldn't speak, knowing she's being watched. The detective, aware of her predicament, scribbled something down before aiming those words at her.
『Will you come here? I need to give you something.』
Her body went rigid. Two different consciousnesses debating with each other in her mind. One screaming not to be so stupid as to believe a stranger. He could be dangerous! The other uttered in a calmness that the man could have easily harmed her if he wanted to, and Cherry listened to the latter. She rose from her position and hobbled to where the man hid. The humid air mixed with pungent musk hit her when she lowered her gaze at the crouching man, worn down by unknown struggles.
"Who hired you?"
"I can't tell you." His voice came out low, as if afraid someone else was listening in. "But they care enough about you to hire me and they wanted me to hand you this." He took out a small flip phone and gave it to her. "Call for help when you're in danger."
She took it cautiously, her eyes strained with suspicion as she looked at it. "What's this for?"
"They have bugged your phone."
"…Oh."
He offered no further explanation, and her eyes, sinking with dawning understanding, confirmed it was unnecessary.
"You knew, didn't you?"
Her shoulders sagged. "I had my suspicions. He must have done it out of protection, just like with the cameras."
"Is that what you want to believe?"
Cherry's gaze sharpened. "Aren't you supposed to help me?"
"I would love to, but…" He rolled his tattered sleeves, revealing a deep gash on his forearm, its edges already hardening into a scab as the bleeding slowed. "Your husband is no joke. I'm still on the run from his people. I may not live long and decided to at least give you the information I gathered." With a crooked smile to cover his own distress, he handed Cherry a file with bold red letters across it reading: CONFIDENTIAL. She straightened, forcing calm into her body so that the strength in her fingers would loosen.
She opened the file and let her eyes take in each letter, letting the pictures burn her soul and when she couldn't handle it anymore dropped the file like it scalded her hands and slapped her hands over her mouth to still a gag as her eyes burned with tears.
Her watery gaze flung to the detective its desperation asking—no begging him to tell her this was all a one big mean joke, but he answered her plight with a solemn nod, before pain scrunched his face as he clutched at his waist, perhaps attempting to sooth one of the many wounds afflicted directly or indirectly by Brandon.
"I have done my job, so I'll take my leave."
The twigs on the ground suffered under his weight with a crunch at his swift but covert departure.
Cherry scurried inside this time, aware of the tingling on the back of her neck as if being watched. Her head turned around frantically, eyes scanning every corner for a resemblance of a camera, but she found nothing.
Her legs carried her to the second floor. Ignoring the sting in her leg, she pushed open the door of the study room. Last time she was in the room, she discovered something. Her mind, in disarray from other things, chalked it up as unimportant, but now…
Her gait was slow and deliberate, coming to a full stop when she found the book she was looking for. Of all the books present in this room, this was the only one not deteriorated by time. The scent of freshly pressed ink still clinging to its cover. It was a ridiculous thought, even evoking a scoff from her. Her index finger hooked itself on the spine of the vibrant red book and pulled it back, exposing a safe lock.
She choked on her breath, her mind screaming copiously, 'Oh my God'. As her fingers fumbled around the safe-lock, typing in combinations that sprang to mind only for the glaring red light coming from the safe-lock to tint her face. It's frustrating cry occupying her ears.
His birthday?
Wrong.
My birthday?
Wrong.
Our marriage day? Again—wrong.
She was grasping for any dates she could think of, but was the password a date to begin with? It may as well have been some random combination of numbers Brandon thought of.
No. A childish voice invaded her chaotic mind. There's still one more date you haven't tried. A transparent small hand materialized out of thin air, possessing Cherry's hand and having it type: 0209.
What's this date?
Her question received a giggle that softly reclined back into the silence.
The green light, accompanied by a beeping sound, snapped Cherry out of her daze. The bookcase slid to the side before she could be surprised that the combination was correct, making way for her and leaving her speechless.
She gazed at how the newfound staircase disappeared into the gaping dark void. She didn't know how, but her will veered her down the rabbit hole, her hand gliding over the rigid of the stone wall as support.
Involuntarily, her eyes squint hoping to see the light at the end of this tunnel. But not only was she blind as a bat, her nose flared from the assaulting, nauseating, putrid scent. She pinched her nose and muttered, "Who died here?"
Though said jokingly, each step forward increased the scent; her steps dragged, nerves slinking down her spine, in the desolate space that echoed her labored breathing.
Tap.
The last of the stairs were gone, and her feet were firmly planted on the cool, concrete floor. A shadow on the ground floor caught her eye, compelling her to inch nearer. God. She wished she hadn't done that.
Her eyes grew impossibly wide and her throat scratched bruising as a keening scream penetrated her ears, and it took her a second to understand it was her own voice she heard as her eyes locked on the corpse of a man. His torso, slashed vertically open from his jugular to his navel. It gaped wide, devoid of organs, showing solely its bones and muscles.
"Cherry."
Her lips snapped shut as she whipped her head around. She should have balked or blanched at the sight of Brandon standing behind her on the stairs, but his unfazed expression turned her buzzing mind completely static, leaving only one word on her tongue.
"Why?"
A small smile marked his face. "Will you stay calm if I explain?"
No.
She sprinted past him, a searing pain shooting through her leg with every stride, and Brandon made no move to stop her, merely allowing her to graze his arm as she flew by.