Chapter Eleven

Ophelia searched his eyes for any speck of red, but only concerned and questioning steel grey eyes stared back. Her breathing gradually slowed and she calmed down, except for the thrumming of her heart which kept growing louder.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” Seth rushed out, his grip on her waist unconsciously tightening protectively until she slightly winced and he softened the hold.

Ophelia seized the opportunity, wiggling out of his arms and inching a step back to put a little distance between them. “I met your grandfather…” she started.

“What? Did he do something to you?” Seth cut her off urgently, doing a once-over of her body to see if she was physically alright. “Say something to you?” he added, locking eyes with her, his lips set in a thin line.

“He was friends with my grandfather.” She replied, wondering why he was so agitated and concerned. At least I’m not the only one who thinks old Arnold is scary… She thought.

“He told you that?” Seth inquired.

“Yeah... And I found a photograph in my house that proves it.” She informed, remembering the striking resemblance. “He looked a lot like you in the picture.” She added.

Seth heaved a sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair and gritting his teeth. He wanted to reprimand Ophelia for going to his house while he was away, but at the same time he didn’t want her to be suspicious of his relationship with his grandfather. She was already looking at him with a questioning gaze, and he avoided her eyes.

“Don’t ever go there when I’m not home, do you understand?” he gritted out, shoving his hands into the pocket of his suit so she wouldn’t see the balled fists.

Ophelia scoffed. She wouldn’t ever go there again even if he was home. And how was she supposed to know if he had been home or not? Even the housekeeper wasn’t sure of his whereabouts. But the worst of all was the rule he imposed on her. She had lived her whole life following rules and she was sick of it.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” Ophelia fumed, her usual musical voice turning icy. She glared at Seth, and huffing angrily, sidestepped him and took off running back home.

Her breathing was ragged and her face flushed with both the exercise and the emotion by the time she arrived home. Ophelia pushed open the door, almost colliding with Sam.

“Oh, Lia, hey... I was just about to go out and look for you. Dad wants to speak to all of us. Your face is red. Did you meet a cute guy on your walk?” Sam articulated, looking at his sister with a teasing smirk.

Ophelia took a moment to analyze Sam. He was an exact replica of their grandfather; with the floppy brunette hair shoved into a man-bun, strong jaw, and hollow cheeks. He was the tallest in their family, and Ophelia realized with a start that in a few years, he would look exactly like Robert Clemonte in the old photograph she found.

“Why are you staring at me? Does my handsomeness baffle you?” Sam murmured, carried away by the fraying edges of his green sweater, but still stealing an opportunity to joke.

“You idiot…” Ophelia grinned, reaching up on her tiptoes and smacking the back of Sam’s forehead. “Let’s go. Have you taking your medications?” she sternly asked.

Sam groaned, stomping his feet like a little child. “First, that hurt.” He whined. “And second… enough about the medications, I took them, I’m not a baby.” He pouted.

“But you’re acting like a big baby.” Ophelia countered, skipping away to the dining room where the rest of the family waited, with Sam dragging his feet behind and complaining about not being treated with maturity.

-

David cleared his throat and began, glancing at the only family he had left, who were sitting around the dining table, eagerly waiting to hear what he had to say. “I’m going away to Klanchester for a five-day conference. I booked a direct flight, and I will be leaving tomorrow morning. I’m leaving Florence here in charge, and I expect all of you to listen to her and keep each other safe until I return.”

“Do you have to go?” Sam sighed, staring down at the empty plate in front of him.

It was the question plaguing all of their minds. They knew the dangers of being away from each other, since their mom had disappeared when she broke rule number one during a trip. At least together, they could remind each other and make sure they followed the rules.

“Yes.” Their father firmly replied, smiling encouragingly at their gloomy and sad faces. “I’ll make sure to stay safe.” He added.

“Be sure to put salt on all the windows and doors in the hotel room. Don’t stay out past midnight, at any cost. And wear your pentagram necklace at all times. Those are the most important rules.” Florence lectured begrudgingly. “I’m going to rest, I have a headache.” She excused herself, and headed to her chambers.

“Stay safe, Dad...” Ophelia said, taking her father’s hands in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I will” he assured.

“Can’t you take me with you?” Will asked hopefully, looking up at his father with puppy eyes.

“I’m afraid it’s too dangerous.” David declined. However, the sullen expression that came to his son’s face made him sigh. “But I’ll think about it.” He reconsidered.