38 Chapter Thirty Eight

When Maria awoke, Anita was gone, and the morning daylight casting a blinding light on her bed. She grunted as she pushed herself up, for a moment confused as she looked around the empty room.

Her things were still sprawled on the ground from when Anita dropped them. Still tired, Maria packed the right stuff into her suitcase, pulled out a different blue dress from yesterday, and smoothed did one last check of the bedroom. She would be leaving today.

Maria looked around her room for a clock, noting the early hour. She didn't need to leave for another few hours. Still yawning, she left her room and went down to the courtyard. After a small greeting to Mr Vickers, Maria wandered over to the Sister's common room. She saw Olivia Alexandrea walking alongside Sister Wendy; trailing behind them was Anita.

She was dressed in a different white dress to the night previous, her skirt featuring elaborate white roses and lacey layers, her hair tied with a white ribbon and her eyes looking down to her shoes. She stayed methodically three steps behind the pair. Maria couldn't see Christopher Alexandrea anywhere.

"Good morning, Maria." Sister Wendy seemed chipper this morning.

Because you're losing two orphans in one day? Maria couldn't help but think as she forced a smile. "Sister. Mrs Alexandrea." Maria gave a polite bow.

Olivia Alexandrea gave a nod of recognition and a smile Maria had seen countless times; the I-don't-care-about-this-interaction-but-I-will-smile-at-you-to-not-appear-petty smile. The sight of it was jarring, but Maria looked to Anita, who stared absently at the pavement.

"Good morning, Ann," Maria attempted.

She lifted her head and acknowledged Maria, offering a fatigued smile.

"Are you departing us today, Maria?" Sister Wendy asked.

Maria nodded, "Yes."

"Departing?" Mrs Alexandrea tilted her head.

"Maria has been staying with us for a few days while she sorted out her affairs here in Paris." Sister Wendy's smile never faltered. It was an expression Maria almost found impressive. "She planned on leaving today."

Please, try not to tear up, Sister, Maria thought.

"Oh, where are you originally from?" Mrs Alexandrea asked.

"Well-"

"You're leaving today?" Anita spoke out. It startled adults to hear her voice.

Maria furrowed her eyebrows and nodded, "Umm, yeah. I am. But I thought you already-"

Anita pushed past the two women and threw herself against Maria in a hug. She barely managed to catch her as she kneeled to her size and hugged her in return.

"Mr Alexandrea has been missing since this morning," Anita whispered; her voice was so airy she almost didn't hear it. "Their things are still in the spare bedroom. If you have even the slightest ounce of scepticism like me, if you really don't believe me, go to their room." She sounded desperate as if silently calling out for help. "3-3-7, 3-3-7!"

Anita's eyes were glassy with fright as Olivia Alexandrea clutched one of her shoulders to pull her off Maria. The gesture intimidated even Maria as she rose. "I see you two are close."

Maria nodded, confused, "I suppose."

Anita's eyes didn't move from their locked position. "Well, I wish you happiness in whatever comes next, Miss Maria." The woman held out her hand, "Any friend of my daughters is a friend of mine."

Her expression seemed icy, and a painful chill ran down her spine when she shook her hand.

"I'm glad you've welcomed her so warmly." Maria hoped the veil of contempt in her tone didn't come across as strongly as she felt. The hope she felt yesterday for the future parents of Anita had dwindled with the slightest interaction.

Olivia Alexandrea's expression in her eyes twitched, something about them becoming incredibly unsettling. I guess I wasn't successful.

Maria took back her hand before she could rip it off.

"I'm just saying my farewells," Maria said to Sister Wendy, "I'm glad I ran into Anita before I left. Will she still be here by lunchtime?"

Olivia Alexandrea answered firmly, "no."

Maria held her stare; having never held such a heavy eye in her life, she felt a swarm of relief when Olivia turned her attention to Sister Wendy again. "We hope to depart by mid-morning. We have a long journey home, and I do miss my children." When she said this, both hands held Anita's shoulders, her touch appeared gentle, but Anita shoulders tensed.

"If you'll excuse me," Maria said, dismissing herself and marching down the hallway. She didn't look back at the three, but with every step, she could feel someone's stare drilling her back.

*

Maria kneeled before the lock to the spare bedroom, some hairpins jimmied in the keyhole as a makeshift means to open it. Extra bedrooms were in the back of the church grounds, a pale brick building with wide hallways and half a dozen rooms for people. While not in a high traffic area, she needed to be aware of her surroundings constantly. Every five seconds, she scanned the hallway; once having to stand and lean on the wall as some nuns pranced by, they offered a smile and a small attempt at conversation.

Maria sighed when her pointer fingers started to cramp. Leaving the pins in, she massaged her palm as she sat against the wall. "I'm being silly…" Maria mumbled. She smoothed out her hair and groaned, her head thumping against the wall. Anita's paranoia is getting to me as well. What does she even think is in their bag?

She shook her head, "I have some more packing to do." She pushed herself up but stopped on the first step she took. Could Anita have been cold because she had been snooping? Had she already seen something in their bag?

Maria's jaw clenched, her nosy nature overtaking her as she looked down the halls again before returning to the pins in the lock. Just as she was about to give up, the lock gave way, and she could turn it, hearing the satisfying click and the door handle turning with ease. Maria took one last look around her before slipping into the room and closing the door behind her.

The spare bedrooms were much like the nuns' quarters; simple furnishing and a large window. The only difference being they were given a bigger bed than her. There were two bags, a proper, rectangular suitcase, and a large carry bag made of floral carpet by the bed. Other than the bags, there was nothing in the room that indicated a couple had been here. The closet, desk and chest provided were still streaked with dust from no use. One side of the bed had been slept in, as evident by the wrinkles on only one half.

Maria approached the woman's bag, lifting it onto the bed and unfastening the clips. The bag held much more than she anticipated, but she didn't really know what she had expected to see as she laid them out on the bed. The bag held what one may expect a woman to carry; a coin purse, a small mirror, a means of powdering and other small necessities, including undergarments, gloves and a small book. After flicking through the book, Maria lost interest and replaced everything.

She returned the bag to the same place on the ground and carefully lifted the man's suitcase. She plonked it on the bed and attempted to open it. However, it was locked by a three-pin spin code. Maria sighed heavily through her nose. She needed some air.

She approached the window and went to unlock it, as these spare bedroom windows came with brass coloured lock clips, but when she went to grab them, the window creaked from her hand's presence. The wind caught the window and pulled it open the rest of the way, allowing Maria to feel the cool early morning air, but confused her. She looked at the lock she hadn't touched and examined the mechanisms designed to make it lock; someone had broken it.

She pulled the window in and attempted to lock it, but it was too weak to hold the frame in place. It gently swung open again. Maria ran her fingers over the lock and felt a scratch in the metal. She pulled the window back and saw more scuff marks on the frame. Someone kicked it in.

Maria leaned out the window; from a second-story window, it was quite a drop. She lifted her head and saw a tree, its branches long enough for someone to jump to it. Had Christopher Alexandrea leapt from the window?

A branch that once had reached the window hung loosely by the hairs of some bark against the tree as something impacted it and forced it to break. From what Maria could see, the tree's trunk had peeling bits of bark, as if something had been scraped down it.

Or someone.

Maria's eyes widened, "Anita…"

Anita went into the room, but something startled her. Too frantic to unlock the window, she kicks it open, jumps to the tree branch and slides down. That's why she was cold, had the splinters and was out after lights out. Maria could almost see the scene, recognising what Anita had to do to scurry down the tree.

"3-3-7, 3-3-7!"

Maria pressed her lips together and looked at the suitcase with narrowed eyes. She kneeled by the bed and started flicking the numbers on the pin lock. "3… 3…" It took a tedious moment to get to seven, "7." The suitcase unlocked.

Why does Anita know the combination? Maria looked around the room, but there wasn't anywhere to hide and watch aside from the closet or the chest. Her throat suddenly became parched as she looked at the suitcase. She bit the inside of her cheek and pondered whether she should open the luggage. You've already rummaged through one bag; another won't kill you.

Maria tipped the lid open and saw a complete and utter mess. Scrunched up clothes were tangled together, and loose bits of accessories such as a wallet, a gold coloured pocket watch and a matchbox. She didn't know what was safe to touch, her fingers curling and raised as she grimaced.

"Okay… and go!" Maria snatched at a white skirt and tossed it on the bed. Underneath were some pants, which she threw with the shirt. Her eye caught sight of a wooden Jesus on the Cross hanging on the wall, so which she sighed and hushed Him as she continued. The suitcase had a lot of things in it, mainly clothes and cloths.

Her hands felt something hard, sitting at the bottom of the suitcase, wrapped in a cloth. She pulled it out; it was small and fit easily between both her hands. Curious, she unwrapped it and almost dropped the revolver hidden in the green cloth. She placed it carefully on the bed in case it fired. The sight of its wooden features and rough metal barrel and pin filled Maria with a sense of unease. He had a gun at a church, a weapon when talking to Anita, and perhaps concealed it when he walked around the area. The church suddenly didn't feel safe.

Maria forced a gulp as she looked back at the remaining contents of the suitcase. The man had managed to fit a pair of expensive-looking shoes into the bag. Curious, she lifted each of them by the laces but saw something golden slightly obscured by a white sock. She brushed them aside and picked up what appeared to be a gold-coloured door handle.

No, not a door handle… It took Maria a moment to see she was, in fact, holding a ball handle for a walking stick or cane. She looked back in the luggage and saw the rest of Christopher Alexandrea's black wood walking stick, folded up and tucked away at the bottom of the suitcase. Maria felt stupid when she found nothing and started replacing the objects she had seen. She turned the golden ball handle between her fingers as she went to put it away, but even at a passing glance, her heart skipped a beat, forcing her whole body to endure hot pins and needles that immediately turned cold.

Her hands trembled as she pushed aside the clothes she had already thrown back in to find them again. Her breathing hitched, and all she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. Her fingers fumbled with the suddenly freezing cold metal as she saw the beetle symbol, the Unknown Royals mark, hidden in plain sight.

Her breathing ceased, suddenly unable to breathe at all, as the handle slipped from her fingertips and she fled the room. She didn't close the suitcase or the door. She raced to the stairwell at the end of the long hallway and started running down them, jumping three at a time. Her lungs began to burn halfway through the sprint, slamming into a suited figure at the bottom. She stumbled back onto the stairs in a moment of daze.

Christopher Alexandrea held his stomach where she had hit him, stunned by the sudden hit. His eyes recognised Maria, and he offered the first smile she had seen from it. It was unsettling. "I beg your pardon," he said smoothly, "I didn't see you."

His smile dropped as he looked to the stairs where she had come from. Maria could see him connecting the dots while maintaining his calm demeanour. The smile that returned seemed more genuine as if he was happy. "Well, this is quite a predicament, isn't it?" He played with his long sleeves while he spoke.

Maria could see her chest heaving but felt like she was suffocating in this man's presence. The outline of her vision started blurring as she started running up the steps, believing she heard a deep chuckle behind her, but she could've easily made it up. She ran down the hallway again, hoping to make it to the other stairwell.

She took a glance over her shoulder, Mr Alexandrea only a few strides behind her. She darted back into the opened door of the spare bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her as Mr Alexandrea overcorrected himself and made it several steps past the doorway as she slammed it shut. She threw her weight against the door, trying to keep him from turning the doorknob, but it was slipping in her sweaty palms. The doorknob turned, and she felt her feet slip against the floorboards. She kicked desperately, but she continued to drop. Once, she lost her balance from the door slamming closed.

For a moment, she thought he had left, but it made little sense. She went wide-eyed, realising what he was doing, and braced herself against the door. The door shook from a shoulder barge but held. A moment later, there was another thud, stronger than the first. The third time threw Maria onto her back as the door swung open, the outline of the door splintering as he barrelled into the room.

When he ran, he stood over the top of her and started grabbing at her. She struggled, yelling at him as she kicked at his torso, slapping away his attempts to snatch her hands. "Get off me! Get off!" She struck him in the knee, causing him to stumble backwards. She pushed herself away and struggled to her feet. He was blocking the doorway as he aided his knee, hissing as he cursed her.

Maria's head jerked around the room, desperately looking for a means of escape. With every frantic look, she shuffled away from him, her back hitting the window frame. In a foggy moment of desperation, she turned and looked to the tree; while quite a leap if she pushed herself, she believed she'd be able to catch herself on the tree. She made the window open and braced herself on the frame as she started climbing through it.

An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back in, her fingertips struggling to keep her in the window frame. "No! No!" She grunted against him as his other hand came around and smothered something against her face. Suddenly unable to breathe, one of her hands latched onto his. She was yanked back into the room and out of view of any pedestrians on the street.

Maria was forced to lean back from the force, her hands attempting to peel off his fingers as he pressed a cloth against her mouth and nose more forcefully. For a fleeting moment, she thought it was a wet rag, and he was going to suffocate her. But when she could breathe, it was hot and reeked of sweet alcohol, its scent nauseating and made her eyes water. She clawed at his hands, once managed to scratch at his face as she pushed against him, attempting to loosen his hold on her mouth. Eventually, he ran into a wall and had nowhere to go.

Maria tried to hold her breath, but the air made her feel dizzy and sick. Her punches became weaker, all her focus on her gritted teeth and sudden inability to stay alert. She could feel it. Her senses becoming harder to comprehend as all she could manage were some choked squeaks. But she could still hear, and she wished at that moment she couldn't, as all she could hear was, "Shh, shh... That's right, easy does it… That's it…" His voice was void of any concern for her.

In a final moment of aggression, she held onto the hand on her mouth and dug her nails into the back of his hand. She pressed them so hard her own nails bent by force. She could feel his skin giving way as she scraped down across his hand, only stopped when the chemicals took effect, and everything started going black. The last thing she could comprehend was his yells of pain.