The Secret Room

Chloe had anticipated to see New York city's most famous locations. She told them she wanted to see places like Central Park, The Metropolitan Museum of art and ever famous Guggenheim. 

     What she hadn't anticipated was that they would show her these locations from a Helicopter view. . .

     Her fingers gripped tighter than a cat avoiding water, she clung onto Prince's arm. The three of them sat in the back of a Helicopter with headsets as the only way to communicate against the loud roar of the copters rotors.

     "Chloe," Prince spoke calmly.

     "Hm?" She responded nervously.

     "You're hurting my arm," Prince replied with the same calm tone and demeanor.

     She hadn't even noticed. Chloe awkwardly tried to remove her nails from Prince's arm with embarrassment.

     Dominic leaned in closer to her and lifted up his phone to angle his camera at the two of them, "I love when girls are petrified of heights! White, look this way and smile for the camera!"

     She decidedly disliked Dominic.

     The pilot and co-pilot communicated when the trio should look out the window and what they were supposed to be seeing from it. How could she focus on seeing Central Park when she was literally suspended in air by a mechanical pinwheel?

     "Couldn't we have seen these places from the ground?" Chloe's voice sounded more hopeful than she would have liked it to.

     Prince raised his voice to help himself be heard better, "This way is faster, besides, Dominic and I can't hang out like this once we go back to school."

     Chloe didn't understand, "What do you mean? You two are friends, right?"

     "Allegedly," Dominic answered with a quick smile. "You'll understand what it means when you go to Darkwood. Prince is an elite. The three of us are in different social classes, we're supposed to hate each other. We won't get to hang out like this together again."

     Prince didn't deny anything Dominic said, instead he pretended to be more interested in what was out the window.

     The idea of this baffled Chloe. If they were friends, why couldn't they spend time together? Why did their status matter so much?

     After a full hour in the air, the helicopter landed. Chloe had never been so happy to see the ground in her life. Dominic insisted that the three of them crowd together for a group photo, claiming it was in memory of the three friends that could never be. 

     When Dominic sent the photo to her phone, Chloe stared at their expressions. Dominic with his devilish grin, Prince with his handsome stare and herself with the first genuine smile since the incident.

     She felt grateful the boys had helped her to forget her troubles, even if it were just for a single day. Chloe told herself not to be attached to the boys; they would go off to school and she wouldn't see them again.

     In the end it would just be her, Henry and Elizabeth.

     That was her fate.

Two weeks later. . .

     Chloe sat in the kitchen, drinking another one of Elizabeth's blended-carrot concoctions. Abigail did what she always did, answer numerous important calls and organize papers and ledgers. Elizabeth had left early for her 9am hair appointment with a colorist. Henry was in the kitchen with the two of them as well, he seemed in a rush to get his espresso and head for work.

     "Don't forget, Chloe, it's been two weeks. There's some really nice private schools here that you can attend after Christmas holiday. Abigail can give you a list and we can set a date to go visit them," Henry reminded her.

     Chloe could feel her lip twitch, "Yes, it has been two weeks, hasn't it, Henry? And still I've been locked out of all the rooms in the house. Every time I lock my own bedroom door at night, it's unlocked the next day, because Elizabeth has the only key to all the rooms. What is it? Do you just not trust me? Do you think I'd steal her jewelry and run off?"

     Henry looked perplexed, like he genuinely had no idea what Chloe was talking about, "You aren't being locked out of the rooms. If Elizabeth has the doors locked, I'm sure it's because of Lady Reina. She is really smart and can get into rooms and tear up things."

     Chloe had to assume that Lady Reina was the name of the terribly tempered dog Elizabeth toted around, "You don't lock a door to keep a dog out, you lock a door to keep a person out. . ."

     "I'm sure she has her reasons and you are reading into things too much. If it makes you feel better, she doesn't even let me into one of those rooms," Henry tried to say this to comfort Chloe, but it just sounded more bizarre.

     Who has a room they don't even let their own husband go into?

     "I need to get to work, and Chloe, I promise as soon as all this craziness at work has settled, we will talk about what happened with your mother and get your schooling sorted," He said, but Chloe knew that was a lie. Everyday he'd been telling Chloe they'd talk, connect, or that he'd give her some explanation as to why he cut Chloe and her mother out of his life and everyday he had an excuse.

     He was the world's best evader.

     "Sure," Chloe quietly answered.

     Henry looked uncertain whether he should hug, kiss or wave good-bye. Instead he chose to just pat Chloe's shoulder twice before disappearing out of the kitchen.

     With Henry gone, it was finally time. Chloe had made it her mission to find out what was inside the other rooms. The doors to all the room except hers were to remained locked. However, Chloe had seen Elizabeth open the doors on occasion. Chloe had also seen Elizabeth hide the key in Lady Reina's coat pocket. Any time Chloe tried to get near the dog she would growl.

     Today she had a plan.

     "Abigail?" Chloe tried to pleasantly gain the cold-woman's attention.

     Abigail Sweeten lifted up her index finger to indicate for Chloe's silence, "I am on hold for the financial-adviser of our office."

     Chloe tried her best to understand how she had interrupted, "So, if you're on hold, can you answer something for me really quickly?"

     Logic was always a good ally for Abigail. Instead of showing her index finger she now switched to show the face of her plain-looking watch, "You have exactly ten seconds."

     "Do you know what's in the other rooms here?" Chloe wasted no time getting to the point.

     "Guest room, master bedroom, your father's office and Elizabeth's office. Times up," Abigail answered curtly before resuming her endless amount of duties.

     Why did Elizabeth have an office? As far as Chloe was aware, Elizabeth spent most of her time at pilates, dog shows and appointments for beauty treatments. She couldn't stop wondering about what Dominic had said. Could he really be her son? If he was her son, maybe there was evidence of it in Elizabeth's office. There had to be things she didn't want Chloe to be aware of if she locked the doors during the day.

     It was hard to try and figure out what she could tempt a dog with in Elizabeth's vegan-stocked fridge. The closest thing she could find was a bit of oatmeal burger she saved in her napkin from dinner the night before.

     Chloe carefully crept from the kitchen, confident that Abigail wouldn't even care she had left. She went into the living room. The living room was the best looking room in the house, and of course, it had to be. It was the room everyone who visited would see. Fanciful golden drapes, beautiful smooth-covered designer couches. Polished coffee tables and books that looked old and really smart on real oak-wood book shelves. 

     The only thing out of place was in the corner by the window was a red-velvet and gold-trimmed dog tent. Crystal dog bowls, expensive toys and fresh spring water.

     Tent had to be the home of the sleeping Lady Reina.

     She needed to work quickly before Elizabeth returned home. Chloe softly whistled to wake the Pomeranian dog and held out the oatmeal burger as a peace offering. Lady Reina stirred from her beauty rest, and when her small eyes finally focused on Chloe she growled.

     "Come on, girl," Chloe encouraged the dog, but she realized maybe her past mistake was not knowing the dogs name. The times she tried before, she didn't have food and she didn't know the dogs name. Now she was armed with both.

     "Lady Reina? Who's a good girl? You are! Who's a pretty girl? You are Lady Reina," Chloe tried her best to imitate the way she'd heard Elizabeth speak to the dog.

     Lady Reina tilted her had in a confused fashion, but at least she didn't bark or growl. Curiously, Lady Reina stood to her feet and padded over to sniff the food. The moment her small teeth latched on to the bite of burger, Chloe yanked the dog up into her arms.

     "Gotcha!" Chloe exasperated successfully. Lady Reina wiggled against her, but it was to no avail. Chloe dug her fingers into the small pocket and pulled out a gold looking key with a red ribbon on it.

     She left Lady Reina behind in her tent and quietly worked her way up the stairs. Chloe knew Abigail had a precise sort of OCD. She probably named off the rooms in their exact order, meaning the fourth room had to be Elizabeth's office.

      Chloe stood in front of the door and her fingers actually began to feel clammy. God, she felt like a spy on a secret mission. It was scary and exciting at the same time. She pressed the key into the lock and with a soft click the door opened with an audible creaking sound.

     She wasn't prepared for what she saw.

     Posters were everywhere of every achievement Elizabeth earned when she was a child star. Pictures of Elizabeth when she was an eerily beautiful, dark-haired girl with a winning smile. Autographed head-shots from her movie debut in the 1985 film, "Born at Moon Lake."

     Articles wrote about how beautiful she was and awards lined up on shelves dating from 1985 through 1995. After that point the articles were crueler.

     "Elizabeth only got roles because she was pretty, when she loses that she won't have any work." — "All face, no talent." — "Elizabeth James should have gone into modeling instead of acting." — "Elizabeth spirals out of control on drug benders." — "Victim of fame too early in life." — "When is Elizabeth James going to put in as much effort into her acting career as she does her face?"

     Chloe inspected the articles and saw how they shifted from magazine praise, to entertainment newspaper commentary and finally online gossip columns printed out. Her fall from fame was in chronological order, but the most disturbing part—the horrible, truly scary part—was when Chloe looked to the center of the room.

     Standing tall was a six foot, ornate oak-wood-framed mirror. It looked old, like something that should have been in a haunted Victorian home kind of old.

     Chloe slowly dragged her feet. Something about this room, this mirror and the way these articles plastered the wall made her feel very scared. She dared herself to step in front of the mirror.

     There was something etched on the glass, something that looked like it'd been carved on with knife. She stepped closer to examine it, running her fingers along the inscription and she read it out-loud in a shaky, fearful voice.

     "Who is the fairest?"

     Her heart pounded in her chest and she lowered herself from the mirror.

     As her face drew back she could see another face besides her own in the reflection—Elizabeth stood in the doorway.

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