Mystery and Crime Fiction posted February 17, 2025 Chapters:  ...37 38 -39- 40... 


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Bonding at last
A chapter in the book Veil of Secrets

Veil of Secrets - Chap 39

by Begin Again


 
 
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, golden light dancing in the small clearing where Lenore's cabin sat. It was quiet here, peaceful.

Lenore sat on a low wooden bench outside her cabin, slowly combing through Amelia's tangled hair. The little girl sat on a stool in front of her, her legs swinging as she twisted a few blades of long grass between her small fingers. The air smelled of warm earth and pine. The wind carried the soft rustling of trees in the distance.

Amelia was quiet today. Ever since arriving, she had been speaking only when spoken to, never offering anything more than a polite response. Lenore had learned not to press her. Children who had seen too much often carried their pain in silence.

Instead, Lenore spoke of other things — small things. "You know, the forest always smells different before a storm," she murmured, dragging the comb gently through Amelia's soft curls. "I can always tell when the rain's coming just by how the air changes. The wind shifts, the birds get quiet, and the sky takes on a funny color."

Amelia didn't respond, but she wasn't pulling away either. That was progress.
Lenore continued, her voice low, soothing. "I never thought I'd live somewhere like this, but I liked the quiet after a while. There's peace in being alone sometimes."

There was a long pause. Then, in the smallest of voices, Amelia spoke. "I wanted to be alone after my mama died."

Lenore's hands faltered for just a moment before she continued combing. She didn't react too strongly and didn't push for more. She let the child say what she needed to say.

"She was real pretty," Amelia continued, still staring at the ground. "I think she loved me, but she was always sad."

Lenore's chest tightened.

"My daddy — he drank a lot," Amelia went on, her voice thin but steady. "I think he used to love us, maybe a long time ago, but he mostly got angry. At everything. At me."

Lenore's fingers stilled.

"When he got real mad, he'd hit me," Amelia whispered. "I think he hit Mama, too, but she never said. She just told me to hide."

Lenore set the comb down. She didn't speak, didn't interrupt. She knew this child had bottled up the words for too long, and once they started flowing, they wouldn't stop until all were out.

"One night, these men came to our house," Amelia continued. "Said my daddy owed them money. He didn't have it, so they beat him up right there, in front of me."

Lenore's heart ached at the hollow way Amelia said it as if it was just another fact of her life.

"Then they looked at me and said I'd do as payment."

Silence. The words hung in the air like something heavy and unbearable. A chill touched Lenore's spine.

"I screamed for my daddy," Amelia said, her voice trembling now. "But he just lay there, bleeding. Didn't even try to stop them."

Lenore's throat tightened.

"They took me away," Amelia whispered. "Put me in that tunnel. Told me to be quiet or I'd be sorry just like my daddy."

The last words barely made it past her lips before she started trembling. The dam had broken. The pain she had kept locked away had finally spilled over.
Lenore didn't hesitate. She gathered the small girl into her arms, holding her close. Amelia buried her face in her shoulder, her hands clutching at her dress.

"You listen to me, child," Lenore murmured, her voice firm but thick with emotion. "You ain't a debt. You ain't a piece to be traded. You're a little girl who deserved to be loved, and it breaks my heart that nobody gave you that."

Amelia sniffled. "I got nobody now. No family. Nobody wants me. Just those men who said they were going to sell me, and I'd have me a sugar daddy." She dropped her eyes and stared at her hands before asking, "What's a sugar daddy?"

Lenore leaned back, cupping Amelia's small face in her calloused hands. She looked deep into the child's wide, teary eyes. "Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart. Those men were mistaken."

Amelia hesitated, then whispered, "Can — can you be my Grammy?" Her voice was so small, so uncertain.

Lenore felt her own breath catch. She had never expected something like this in all her years of solitude. A slow, rare smile softened her face as she stroked Amelia's damp curls. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmured. "I'd be honored to be your Grammy."

A small, broken breath escaped Amelia, and she pressed her face into Lenore's shoulder, finally allowing herself to cry.

Lenore held her close, whispering soft reassurances that she was safe, loved, and had a home now.

*****

The murmur of voices drifted through the open doorway, stirring Rebecca from the hazy place between sleep and wakefulness.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep. She had been resting, regaining her strength, but something about Amelia's voice had pulled her from the fog. She blinked, forcing herself upright, steadying herself against the wooden frame as she listened.

She had never asked Amelia about her past. She'd never pried. She had saved the girl without knowing anything about her, and now, standing in the doorway, hearing the painful truths spill from the child's lips, she realized just how much Amelia had endured.

And how much she had needed someone to listen.

Rebecca swallowed hard, her emotions a tangled mess.
She didn't want to interrupt. She wasn't even sure she had the strength to speak.

But then Amelia turned and saw her. "Rebecca!"

Her small face lit up, as if just the sight of her was enough to make her believe in something good again. She scrambled from Lenore's lap and ran straight to her, throwing her arms around Rebecca's waist.

Rebecca tensed for a moment before slowly curling her arms around the little girl.

"I'm so happy you're getting well," Amelia whispered, voice muffled against her.

Rebecca smiled, warmth creeping into her chest. "Me too."

Lenore discreetly wiped at her eyes, clearing her throat. "Well," she muttered, "guess I'd better get some tea and biscuits before we all start bawling."

Amelia pulled back, beaming now. "Grammy makes the best biscuits!"

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Grammy?"

Lenore scoffed, but there was no hiding the tenderness in her eyes. "Apparently, I'm an old softy now."

Rebecca smiled, a small, genuine smile, the first in a long time. She brushed a few strands of Amelia's hair back. "Your hair looks lovely today."

Amelia grinned. "Grammy did it!"

Lenore huffed and waved them both off. "It's just a braid, don't make a fuss over it." She turned on her heel and strode into the cabin, muttering, "I swear, people act like I did something special."

Rebecca and Amelia exchanged amused glances.

As they settled onto the porch steps, Rebecca stared out into the trees, feeling something unfamiliar but welcomed — a sense of belonging.

Amelia wasn't just someone she had saved.

She was someone who had saved her, too.

*****
The cabin was warm, filled with the scent of steeping tea and the last rays of golden sunlight spilling through the window. The world outside was quiet, except for the rustling of leaves in the trees and the occasional chirp of a bird settling in for the night.

Rebecca sat at the wooden table, a mug of tea cradled between her hands, the warmth seeping into her fingers. Across from her, Amelia perched on a chair, swinging her small legs, the afterglow of their earlier conversation still lingering in her wide brown eyes.

Lenore sat nearby, stirring her tea slowly. She stared into the dark liquid as if it held the echoes of long-forgotten memories.

Amelia tilted her head thoughtfully. "You know, in school, we did show and tell."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip. "Oh?"

Amelia nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Everybody had to share something about themselves. I told you my story, so you should share something too, Rebecca."

Rebecca hesitated, caught off guard. She glanced at Lenore, who only smirked into her tea as if enjoying the idea of putting her on the spot.

"Alright," Rebecca relented, setting her mug down. "I'll tell you about a man who is a prince."

Amelia gasped, leaning forward. "A real prince?"

Rebecca chuckled. "Not exactly. But to me, he is."

She glanced at Lenore, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Rebecca took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "In the tunnels, I didn't think anyone would come looking for me," she admitted, her voice softer now. "I was scared, lost, and trying to get out."

"You seemed brave to me."

Rebecca smiled. "I was trying to be, but the truth is I thought maybe I would die there. Maybe no one would know. Maybe no one would care."

Amelia frowned, small hands clenching into fists. "That's not true."

Rebecca's smile was faint but genuine. "No. It wasn't. Because in my dreams, I knew he would come."

"Your prince? You mean Travis?"

Rebecca smirked. "Oh no, Travis was wonderful, and he helped you and me get out of those tunnels. But he's not my prince."

Lenore let out a quiet laugh. "Someone at your age believing in fairytales."

Rebecca ignored her and turned back to Amelia. "He's probably angry at me. I can see it in his eyes. Not because he is mad at me, but because he thinks he's lost me. He is furious at the world for letting it happen."

Amelia's eyes were wide, captivated. "Will he beat you like my daddy did because that's what he did when he was angry?"

Rebecca's fingers tightened slightly around her mug and she smiled. "A true prince would never hurt the people he loved, Amelia."

A beat of silence. "In your dream, did he ride a big white stallion?"

Rebecca laughed, "No, but he's got Mustangs on the side of his SUV."

"You mean he's real, not just in your dreams?" Amelia's eyes widened. "You actually know a Prince."

Rebecca turned her gaze toward the window as if searching for something. "My Prince is definitely real and I know he's looking for me."

Amelia looked up at her thoughtfully. "Since we aren't in the tunnels anymore, he's probably worried about you."

Rebecca's smile faltered just a little, but then she nodded. "I know, but he won't give up until he finds me."

Lenore, watching them both, took a slow sip of her tea. "Sounds like your prince has his work cut out for him."

Rebecca huffed. "I never said I was easy to save."

Lenore smirked. "But well worth it, my child. Both of you!"

Amelia giggled, taking another sip of her tea, and for a moment, the warmth in the room was enough to chase away the shadows that had lingered for too long.

But then, the conversation shifted.

"It's your turn, Grammy."

Lenore set her mug down, her fingers resting lightly against the table as if feeling the grain of the wood beneath her fingertips. She glanced at Amelia, then at Rebecca, and slowly breathed. "I saw it happen," she said quietly.

Rebecca's brow furrowed. "Saw what?"

Lenore looked up, her gaze steady but distant. "Miriam."

The name alone sent a hush over the table. Even Amelia, who barely understood what had happened, could feel the shift in the air.

"I was just a little girl," Lenore continued, her voice steady but thick with memory. "No older than you, Amelia. But I remember every bit of it like it happened yesterday."

Rebecca and Amelia remained silent, hanging on her every word. Lenore's eyes glazed over and she sat so still the two girls thought she might have fallen asleep.

Finally, Amelia reached out and touched Lenore's arm. "You okay, Grammy?"

Lenore nodded and sipped her tea before finally speaking. "It was her wedding day," she murmured, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the rim of her mug. " She was so beautiful. A day of joy for the bride and for me as a little girl. But instead — it became a funeral."

Rebecca's breath caught, her fingers tightening around her cup.

Lenore stared past them, past the room itself, lost in the echoes of the past. "Miriam wore a white dress with flowers in her hair. She had the prettiest smile on her face when she took the groom's hand."

She swallowed. "But that man — the one with the black heart — he turned the town folk on her. They called her wicked, a sorceress, a woman who dared to claim what men thought she shouldn't have."

"With what proof?" Rebecca whispered.

Lenore's gaze sharpened, locking onto hers. "They didn't need proof."

Rebecca looked away.

"They dragged her to the tree outside the mansion," Lenore continued, her voice softer now, laced with an old sorrow that had never quite left her. "And I saw the way she looked at them. Not with fear. But with sorrow. Like she had known all along that they would betray her."

Amelia clutched the edge of the table, her small fingers white-knuckled. "That's awful."

Lenore nodded, slow and heavy. "It was." Her fingers drifted to her chest, absently brushing against the fabric covering something hidden beneath.

"She saw me," Lenore whispered. "Before they put the rope around her neck, she saw me. Maybe she knew I was watching. Maybe she just wanted to leave something behind."

With trembling hands, Lenore reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a delicate silver cross. The metal was old, worn smooth by time, but still gleamed in the dim light.

"She gave me this," Lenore murmured. "Pressed it into my palm and told me, 'Hold on to this, little one. As long as you believe, you will always be safe.'

Rebecca's chest tightened as she stared at the cross. "She knew," Rebecca murmured. "She knew they would turn on her."

Lenore nodded. "And she still chose to stand tall."

Rebecca exhaled shakily. "And maybe — she's still standing — through us."

A silence fell over the table, thick with something more than grief — something like understanding.

Amelia, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly spoke. "Maybe she sent you to me, Rebecca."

Rebecca blinked, startled. "What?"

Amelia shrugged, her voice small but sure. "You saved me. Just like Miriam tried to save people, maybe she's still helping — through you and Grammy."

The words settled deep in Rebecca's chest, warm and unshakable.

Lenore pressed the cross lightly to her heart, her eyes far away. "Believe, and you will always be safe," she murmured, more to herself than anyone.

Rebecca glanced at Amelia, then at Lenore, and something clicked inside her.

Maybe she was supposed to save the land and the history that was woven in its past.

Maybe she was carrying something forward.
 
Maybe someone had locked Miriam in the mirror, but she wasn't finished yet.

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Recognized


Main Characters -
Spirits from the past -
Eleanor Bennett - ghost detective
Danni - jr. ghost detective working with Matthew Donatelli
Cornelius Webb - Miriam's nemesis and murderer
Miriam Cascio - Trevor's murdered bride, Rebecca's grandmother and protector of the Vineyard
Antonio Maggio - Rebecca's grandfather and Miriam's first love

Bayside's Community --
Jenna Bennett - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, Maggie's mother, Donatelli's love
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective and Maggie's father
Rebecca Cascio Stillwell - recently inherited the Vineyard after discovering her adoption
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie) and potentially interested in Rebecca
Joseph DeLuca - Bayside detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge, nemesis to all, and escaped prisoner from Joliet State Prison.
Vince Rossi - mobster and Doyle's cellmate and escaped prisoner
Grayson Webb - grand nephew and recently inherited the Webb Estate
Althea Webb Cascio - mother to Travis and half-sister to Rebecca
Travis - missing boy
Amelia - girl in the caves
Phil Henderson - Bayside family lawyer
Maria - a woman escaping the tunnels
Lenore - an old woman with a wolf dog and magic
Ashley, Lee Ann, Kristen - women caged in the tunnel
Criminals -
Zhang Wei - once involved in human trafficking with Doyle, seeks revenge for his career losses after Doyle's downfall from the Judge's bench.
Frank DiVito - retired gangster and childhood friend of Garth
Sam - Frankie's right-hand man and friend
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
Tony "The Hawk" - Salvatore "Sal" and Vito Greco -- the New York mob
Smugglers from New York
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