Chapter 12: Shattered

·Grace's POV·

The rain always soothes me. Its sound, its smell, the way the cold drops feel against my warm skin. No matter how horrible my day went, the rain washes all my problems away giving way to a state of peacefulness.

But not today.

After agreeing to Archer's proposal, I decided to pay his parents a visit the following day. To my surprise, William and Beatrice Sutcliffe live in the most luxurious neighborhood in this town. They are both in their late seventies and are one of the nicest couples out there. That's basically all I know about them, which is bad taking into account I'm heading to their house at this very moment.

Archer should have shared a little more information with me...

Anyway, I decide to enjoy the weather and forget about what I'm about to do. I find it pretty funny, how the weather sometimes matches our mood.

If we're happy, the sun looks like it's shining brighter than before.

If we are angry, ash-gray clouds seem to concentrate up in the sky.

If we feel sad or hopeless, rain starts to pour as if it is sheding all the tears we refuse to let flow.

I then spotted Archer's old house from under my umbrella. The scenery before me was quite the contrast.

A white, immaculate mansion surrounded by the most beautiful garden ever contemplated stood under the gray sky, being drenched by the persistent drizzle.

Nothing is never what it seems, and this is the clear example of that. You can stare at the most breathtaking house owned by the most perfect family, but that doesn't mean that the happiness reigns inside those walls. On the contrary, those who smile the brightest are often the saddest, hiding behind a mask of fake cheerfulness.

Let's pray that I won't be the reason for that mask to crack.

The fence was wide open, so I just had to follow the stone path directing me to the door. Once I was in front of it, I took a deep breath and before I could knock someone spoke by my side:

"I can't wait to hear their voices again, it's been so long." Archer said by my side.

Wait, Archer?

"What are you doing here?!" I whisper-shouted at him.

"Did you think I wouldn't come and hear the news with my own ears?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well obviously, because for all I knew you couldn't leave the correctional."

"It's not that I can't, it's just that I never felt like it. They can't even see me, love. It would be masochist if I came here and watch everyone carrying on with their lives without me."

A sad look appeared on his face and, God, how I wished I could make it go away.

Without any idea of what to respond, I just knocked on the wooden door.

Some seconds later, an old woman opened the door. She had Archer's brown eyes.

"How can I help you sweetheart?"

"I...ummm.."Archer then took my hand and held it, just as affected. This is the first time seeing her mother after forty long years. I took a deep breath and introduced myself. "My name is Grace Lancaster, ma'am. I'm here to write an article for the school's newspaper. I was wondering if you could give me some information, if you do not mind."

"Of course not! I'll help you with pleasure. And please, call me Bea."

"Will do Bea." I smiled kindly at her.

She showed me the way to the living room.

"Please, take a seat Grace. Do you want anything to drink?"

"Water is fine, thank you."

After she left the room, Archer said, still with my hand in his:

"She hasn't changed a bit. Still the generous and caring person. It's weird to see the older version of the woman I remember."

"Forty years have passed Archer, what did you expect?"

"You're right. Agh, I've been so selfish! All this time I could have been here!"

"Hey, what's done is already done, you can't change it. You just have to make amends."

"I will Grace, once they assure me that I am still alive and I wake up from the coma or whichever state I'm in."

My heart ached for him. He was still hopeful.

Be positive Grace, this might even work out.

"Here, your glass of water. Please, let me introduce my husband, William Sutcliffe, and my son, Noah. "

Archer couldn't believe his eyes. His father and brother stood a few meters away, all grown up. He told me the truth, Noah was nothing like him. He has blonde hair and stormy gray eyes, whereas Archer has dark brown hair and light brown eyes. The only things they had in common were their extremely tall height (around 6ft.4), their chiseled face and that elegant and fit figure. I couldn't help but feel respect.

"I'm Grace Lancaster. A pleasure." I extended my hand for them to shake.

"The pleasure is all ours, Grace."

"She's here to write an article, honey."

"That interests me! What is it about?" William asked me.

"It's about St. George's Juvenile Correctional."

"Oh..." Their faces fell, but not Noah's. He just stared at me, sceptical.

Archer was acting like a statue, to say the least. He wouldn't move, scared that they might see him -as impossible as it was-.

"My team and I are contacting some of the affected families. Are you comfortable talking about it? If not, I won't bother you any longer-"

"We're fine Grace, don't worry about us." Bea cut me.

"Just tell me when you want to stop. Start when you are ready."

I took a notebook and a pen out of my bag.

"My husband and I sent our son Archer to that correctional forty years ago. My boy was so intelligent and handsome. The only problem was that he was extremely naughty, a trouble maker. Those jokes and his smirk, it made us crazy!" She laughed as if remembering one of Archer's antics, hurt evident in her features. I hate making her do this, relive her pain. "My husband decided to send him to the local correctional for a while, to see if it would benefit him somehow. The worst mistake of our lives. As you might know, St. George burned down, killing every child who got stuck inside."

Archer seemed to see his world crumbling down before his eyes. This doesn't look good, so I asked the question begging to be asked:

"I visited the memorial, but his niche wasn't there. What happened to him?"

"That, my child, is because we decided to bury him in our family crypt. We wanted him to rest in peace close to us, his family. He also died that awful night. The authorities told us that he was very close to make it, but something fell from the ceiling and hit him in the back, killing him." William responded, with a distraught look.

I didn't want to believe it, but I won't say I was surprised about it. The one who seemed broken without repair here, was Archer. All his hopes, shattered.

"Mum, dad. Could you please give Grace and I a second?"

Noah took my upper arm forcefully, leading me to the entrance.

"I don't know what you real intentions are, but we both can agree that you aren't here for a fucking article. Stop lying. What's your goal, huh?"

Maybe he will understand...

"I can see your brother's ghost."

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP LYING."

Or maybe not.

"I'm being honest. He told me where your parents live, about his death, about his childhood. About you, Noah."

"That's impossible. Are you listening to yourself right now?"

"The day he was packing for the correctional, you begged him to stay but all your cries were useless. He couldn't do a thing about it, and you knew it. However, you held a grudge against him and the next day you didn't even say goodbye. Who cared anyway? He would be returning for Christmas, right? "

"Stop."

"One day, a police officer showed up at your door. He told you your brother died in a terrible accident the day before. You wouldn't believe him. It hurt you. It hurt that your beloved older brother was dead. Someone you looked up to, someone you loved. But the thing that hurt the most was that you didn't get to tell him you loved him and that you were sorry. You thought he died thinking that you hated him, and it destroyed you."

"STOP! GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW AND DON'T THINK OF COMING BACK!"

He shoved me out and closed the door with a loud bang. Noah finally believed me. How do I know? Because Archer told me about that night and how heartbroken he was to leave his eight year old brother behind.

Once out of the house, it hit me. Archer had seen and heard everything.

I turned around and all I saw was pain. Before I could defense myself or talk about what had happened, he disappeared before my eyes.

*****

A.N: This was a hella long chapter but what can I say? I got inspired. This has been... intense. What does Archer think about this encounter? You'll see in next chapter.

Love,

M³