After saying goodbye to my mother, I looked around the room. Everything was the same as I remembered. The burnmark and ashes, the puddles of my blood, one with a split in the floor where the knife had wedged in, and the broken beer bottle.
I recalled everything that happened since the shadow appeared. What happened was all too clear to me, except for one thing.
I walked towards the shattered bottle and squatted in front of it. Elise and Ken followed and stood behind me.
I inspected the shards without touching them and saw that there was no moisture at all present on or around them.
"Does one of you smell anything peculiar?" I asked them.
They sniffed the air before answering.
"Not really." "No."
I didn't smell anything either, even though my mother was effectively cremated, turned to ashes, with the contents of this bottle.
What was in it? I thought back even more, staring from when the white flash occurred. And then, more details stood out to me.
My mother had taken a sip of that stuff and said it suddenly tasted strong, compared to when she had drunk some of it before. Also, the last few times that I saw my mother's face, it was flushed red, like she was severely drunk.
Did the beer suddenly turn into very strong, no, supernaturally strong, alcohol after the white flash?
There's no moisture left, like everything had evaporated, and it had burned with supernatural efficacy.
I thought that was the correct explanation. But then, who or what had caused it.
My mother. The answer popped immediately in my head. Like the doctor could cure my hand after the white flash, perhaps my mother could turn alcohol unnaturally strong.
I became sure that was what had happened. What an ironic twist, that a recovering alcoholic gained the ability for that kind of miracle.
But that's not something to contemplate now. One question is answered, but another remains.
How did the shadow, that man, know it would burn. He had doused my mother with it, and then set her on fire with purpose. If it had been regular beer, like it was supposed to be, it wouldn't burn, let alone cremate someone. So, he had to have known that the alcohol turned unnaturally strong.
But how could he have known that? The shadow appeared after my mother had mentioned anything about the alcohol. And, thinking that, a cold fear suddenly filled my being as things clicked for me.
The shadow had appeared and disappeared, that was the logical way to look at it. It's common sense that you want to commit a crime as quickly as possible, and be as efficient as possible. The longer you are present, the more evidence you potentially leave behind, and the greater the chance for you to get caught.
But for the shadow, common sense doesn't need to apply. It could have been as inefficient as it wants, be here for as long as it wants. In that case, there was a way the shadow could have known that the alcohol was so strong.
The shadow can turn visible and invisible too. It could have been present when my mother mentioned the strength of the alcohol. That premise made the most sense to me.
Realising that, all the hair on my body stood on end.
The shadow can still be present here. He could have just turned invisible after everything had happened, and still be here even now, none of us knowing any better.
I was on high alert, sharpening all my senses, but I acted calmly.
It's just hypothesising on my part. What I thought might not be true at all, but it's better to act like it's true. In that case, not reacting is the correct choice.
If he's here, and hasn't attacked us yet, then he has a different goal in mind. If we react and provoke him, his reasoning might change. He might attack us, disappear, or worse.
There's a flipside too. If I can arm myself and locate him, without him being aware that I know he's here, I'll be able to launch a surprise attack and kill him right here and now.
I was still squatting, staring at the broken bottle. In this position, I could only rely on my hearing, but I didn't hear anything odd. I couldn't locate him like this.
I had to move on in a natural way while scanning the room to find him. The shadow who still might be here is something I just realised, but I also came back to this house for another purpose.
How to avoid the murder being pinned on me, and how to get my father to face justice. I had already confirmed a way to achieve at least the first part since coming here.
"There is indeed no smell," I said while standing up and turning towards Elise and Ken.
"My mother was effectively cremated and turned into a pile of ash, but there is no smell of burned flesh. The only thing that shows that a murder has happened is a pile of ashes."
They grimaced at my grim explanation. I looked at their faces, all the while subtly scanning behind them, but I saw no presence of him. This is not going to be so quick and easy. Normally, I'd just tell them my plan, but I'll put on a little show to buy me more time to look for him.
"The purpose of the police is to solve crimes. Now, imagine you two are police officers that need to determine what crime happened here. Looking at this room and keeping in mind what I told you, what do you conclude?"
They looked at me briefly with a confused expression, but then started looking around and thinking. Eventually, Ken started speaking.
"That a murder happened?"
Elise nodded too, agreeing.
"Indeed. And if that's the case, you then have to collect evidence and verify if the story I told is true. Wait here a minute."
I walked towards the kitchen, opened a drawer and grabbed a sheeted knife that I used for cooking. I then walked back towards the blood puddles where I was stabbed.
All the while, I witnessed no sign of a shadow lurking around.
"According to what I told you, a shadow appeared, I attacked it with a knife, it disarmed me and pinned me with the same knife to the floor here. Then, it killed my mother, doused her body and set it on fire, then disappeared into thin air."
I animated the story with the knife I had grabbed, using it as a prop. Or at least, letting him think that, hiding the fact that I just armed myself against the potential hidden threat of him. I don't know if he would buy it, but I gave priority to getting the knife quicker in my hand instead of contemplating longer on how to make grabbing the knife more natural.
"Hearing my story, what evidence in this room is there that the shadow murdered my mother?"
I asked them, and they started thinking. But their expressions quickly gained frowns.
"That's right. There is evidence that I was attacked. There is evidence that my mother was murdered. But, there is no evidence that a shadow was here and that it killed her."
I saw that they followed my explanation, so I continued.
"If the murder was pinned on me, that would then provide a far more logical explanation than a shadow murdering my mother. I was after all the only one other than her present here, according to the evidence, so I must have been the only one that could have murdered her. Then, I wounded myself and made up everything about a shadow, attempting to hide my crime. For a motive, they might say that I was sick of taking care of my alcoholic mother, and that I snapped and got rid of her."
Elise and Ken looked at me dubiously. The logic that I was the murderer seemed far fetched to them, because they believed me and knew what the truth was.
But, it is logic, and the world's most famous lawyer can make it stick if he wants to.
"So, what is the plan then," Ken asked me.
That's the crux of the matter. And that's exactly where my idea comes to fruition.
"What if my mother's ashes are not here?"
They looked at me quizzically. But, after a few seconds, Elise's gaze focused. She found the answer.
"Then, no evidence that a murder happened would be here!"
Ken looked at her with doubt, but then realised it too.
"You're right," I told Elise. "In that case, nobody could prove that murder happened here. So, by extension, no murder could be pinned on me."
"But that won't solve anything," Ken interrupted.
"No murder happened here," I continued, "but there is still evidence that I was attacked and that my mother has disappeared. What crime was committed here then?"
I posed the question to them, but I gave the answer myself.
"I'll say that my mother was kidnapped."
Their eyes went wide, but I continued explaining.
"A shadow appeared to kidnap my mother, wounded me, then disappeared in a sea of flames with her. That's the story I'll tell the police."
Changing the crime from murder to kidnapping, it seemed to solve all the potential problems I could think of.
"Pinning a kidnapping on me is far more difficult than a murder. What motive would I have in kidnapping my own mother? And with a kidnapping, the culprit being a magical appearing and disappearing shadow sounds far more likely than an attacked, wounded, motiveless me in such a small timeframe."
Elise and Ken followed my reasoning, but they didn't seem convinced yet.
"But how will the police get to your father then," Ken asked.
"Well simply, they have to search for mother, since she was kidnapped. She was famous, so it will be on the news everywhere in this country until she is found. The police will have to question related parties to solve the crime. Both out of obligation and public pressure, and my father would be included in that."
"Why won't you say to them that your father kidnapped your mother," Elise asked me.
"Because when my father realises we're on to him, he might retaliate against us. With this police force potentially in his pocket, I don't want to risk it. For now, I'll just tell them enough information to make them point towards my father, without explicitly saying it. Someone else outside of my father's control will pick up on the evidence at a later date, and arrest my father."
"Ah, alright. I didn't think about it that way," she added. Ken also nodded, agreeing.
Of course, what I told them isn't entirely true. My father can get rid of us anytime, he might in fact be here listening in to everything right now, but I haven't caught a sign of him yet.
If he is here and listening in, he hasn't interfered yet to get rid of me for saying what I said just now. It's expected. Unlike Elise and Ken, I know how justice really works. My father taught me himself.
The police won't arrest my father even if they can prove with absolute certainty that he's the culprit. He's famous, has friends in high places and is one of the most ruthless and effective lawyers that exists.
If some lowly police department decides to go after him, they will be the ones that end up in jail, or worse. It's certainly not the first time my father has ruined innocent lives for political power.
The terror that my father will never meet justice as it should be through the judicial system. The absolute fear that he decides what justice is, and who is punished.
However, there are other ways to give him his just deserts, but those are problems for later.
This whole kidnapping shenanigan is just to get the police off my back in the best way I can think of, keeping the story of what happened as close to the truth as possible for potential later use. But to do that, there still are a few problems present that need to be solved.
I turned my attention to my friends again.
"Having said that, I already told Elise's dad that my mother was murdered. And, instead of calling the police immediately after he fixed my hand, we three went back to the house again. Those things won't make sense if we tell my mother was kidnapped."
They grimaced again at yet another caveat, but the solution to these problems were actually simple.
"Well, to fix that. We can just say I was in shock and thought my mother was murdered. And when I calmed down, I started doubting myself and went back with you guys to my house to double check it before calling the police."
If there is no evidence that can disprove my story, then it must be the truth in the eyes of the police.
"I think that hiding my mothers ashes, saying that she was kidnapped and sticking to the story I just said will be the best course of action for us. Do you two agree?"
They looked at each other, then back to me, and nodded in agreement. Our course of action was settled then.
"But…, where will we hide your mother," Ken asked softly.
"Ah, that…," I started and then trailed off. My gaze shifted to the dining table, which stood by a window. There, a potted vase with red amaryllis flowers stood basking in the last rays of daylight.
"We'll put them in the dirt of that vase. I think my mother would be at peace with that, it was her favourite plant."
Those two seemed to be fine with it. Then we should start, but…
"Can you two do it? I… I don't think I'm really comfortable with handling her ashes."
"Ah, okay. We'll do it, you can watch if you want," Elise responded in understanding.
Ken gave a nod too in agreement.
"Okay. Thank you. I'll watch then."
Afterwards, they started to work. Ken grabbed another pot and transferred the plant and dirt from the vase to it. Elise grabbed a dustbin and scooped up my mothers ashes.
She then laid it in the pot with dirt and the two of them mixed it together. Ken then transferred the dirt plant back to the vase, while Elise wiped the burned floor with rubbing alcohol.
It took them a few minutes altogether, and I watched them, sometimes commenting, all the while staying on high alert for any signs of the shadow.
When they were done, I found no sign anymore that a murder had happened in the room. And also, I still had found no sign of the shadow being currently present in this room.
We were now staring at the vase in silence for a minute or two already. I'm sure we all had our thoughts about what happened here, and what we did here. As for my own thoughts, I was still too focused on finding signs of the shadow here to give them any attention.
But, during all this time, I still hadn't found any sign of it. Perhaps I had been overthinking it all this time.
I relaxed a bit. But, I had to keep my guard up. If the possibility existed, I would always account for it. But for now, if there was no shadow, or I could not detect it, then there was no point in sticking around. In that case, I should just continue with my plan.
"Okay…, let's put her somewhere nice upstairs, away from this crime scene. She has more plants in her bedroom. I think…"
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
I was interrupted by loud banging on the front door.
And as we three turned around in surprise, we heard a loud voice coming from outside.
"Police! If anybody's in there, open up!"
The police were already here, despite me not having called them yet.