11. Eva
CHAPTER 11
EVA
After three hours of wrong turns, bathroom stops, and fast-food runs, we finally pull into the driveway. Mandy passed out halfway through the trip, the mix of greasy fries and vodka knocking her out cold. That left me alone with my music, a couple of Red Bulls, and the endless stretch of highway scenery.
Now, staring at the house in front of me, I feel a strange mix of exhaustion and awe. It’s… breathtaking. Trees line the long driveway, their branches arching overhead like a natural tunnel, shielding us from the outside world. The house itself is a vision—red brick with an old-world charm that reminds me of something out of a storybook. Soft lights illuminate the exterior, casting a warm glow against the night sky and guiding us to the front door.
For a moment, I forget everything. Why we’re here, what we’ve left behind.
Next to me, Mandy stirs, her eye mask sliding off as she blinks at the scene before us. “Are we here?” she whispers, her voice groggy but laced with curiosity.
“Yeah,” I reply softly, still taking in the sight. She squints at the house, scepticism tugging at her tone. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
“I’m sure,” I say, more certain than I feel. My voice comes out quieter than I intended, heavy with the exhaustion of the past few days.
I shut off the engine, and silence floods the car. It’s unnerving, making the air between us feel too thin, too exposed. “Alright, let’s go,” I say, pushing open the door and stepping into the cool night air. The chill jolts me awake, a sharp contrast to the stale warmth of the car. I stretch my legs, wincing at the stiffness from the hours of driving.
Behind me, Mandy groans as she gathers herself, her movements slow and reluctant. “I swear, next time I’m navigating,” she mutters, shooting me a sleepy half-smile. I laugh, shaking my head. “Sure, Mandy. Like you’d do any better.”
I pop the trunk and grab our bags while Mandy takes in the house, her hazy expression giving way to something softer. “It’s… kind of beautiful,” she says, her voice quieter now, like she doesn’t want to disturb the moment.
“Yeah,” I agree, slinging a bag over my shoulder. “Let’s just hope it’s as nice on the inside.”
Locking the car, I lead the way up the path to the front door. The closer we get, the taller the house seems, looming above us like it’s sizing us up. “Is this the part where we get murdered?” Mandy whispers, her voice so sudden it makes me jump.
“Jesus, Mandy!” I hiss, clutching my chest as my heart races. She giggles, bumping her shoulder against mine. “What? It’s got that whole creepy mansion vibe going on.”
Rolling my eyes, I watch as she pulls the keys from her pocket and unlocks the door. It swings open with a low creak, revealing an interior that takes my breath away.
“Holy shit,” Mandy gasps, stepping inside.
I rush in after her, curiosity getting the better of me. The sight that greets me is straight out of a movie. The grand entrance hall stretches before us, dominated by a sweeping staircase that splits at the top into two separate wings. Above us, a chandelier sparkles like a cluster of captured stars, its light reflecting off the polished marble floors. Shadows dance around the room as the cold night air seeps in through the open door.
Mandy and I exchange a look, both of us wide-eyed. The weight of disbelief hangs heavy between us—this place is more than we ever expected.
Before I can say anything, Mandy grabs her bag and bolts toward the stairs. “I’ve got dibs on the master bedroom!” she shouts over her shoulder, her excitement echoing through the grand space. “Are you kidding me?” I call after her, but she’s already halfway up, her footsteps a rapid sound against the marble. I sigh, shaking my head as I watch her vanish at the top. Of course, she’d claim the best room without even pretending to ask.
Standing alone in the entrance hall, I take one last look around. The house feels massive, almost alive with the way its shadows shift and its silence hums. For the first time in days, I feel something close to peace, a small pocket of calm in the chaos of everything we’ve been running from.
It’s fleeting, but I’ll take it.
It took me 30 minutes to find the room I wanted, Mandy claimed the left wing of the house to herself, leaving me with the right. Pushing open the door at the end of the corridor I’m greeted with a bedroom that resembles the same size of our apartment back home, immediately stopping me in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat.
The master bedroom is absolutely stunning. A massive king-sized bed sits against the far wall, covered in white sheets. I walk towards the bed, slowly running my fingers over, admiring the bedroom in front of me. Pillows line the top of the headboard just waiting for me to dive into them right there and then. The soft light fills the bedroom with warmth as they hang from the arches, high above me.
I glance toward the windows at the far end of the room, and I can’t help but stare. A wall of glass opens up to the most incredible view of a park below, its lush green trees and winding paths stretching out in every direction as the lights along the path twinkle, giving it a sense of mystery against the darkness.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” I whirl round to see Mandy standing in the doorway staring at the bedroom around me, a look of disappointment on her face as she storms towards the bed throwing herself on top of it. “AND THE BED?!” She shouts shortly followed by a groan. “Hey, that’s my bed. Move it,” I say, scooping up one of the pillows that had fallen onto the floor and tossing it at her. She snatches it out of the air before it makes contact, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Can we switch?” she asks, pouting her lips dramatically. “No way. You picked first. No backing out of it now.” I cross my arms, standing firm, even though I can’t help but smirk at her exaggerated plea.
She sighs, rolling her eyes but scoots over to make room. I move toward the bed, feeling the mattress instantly give beneath me as I lay down next to her. It cradles me, sinking me further with each breath, causing a wave of exhaustion to consume me. “Oh yeah, definitely no backing out now,” I mumble, my eyes already starting to close as the weight of tiredness settles in. I hear her soft laugh beside me, but it’s distant, like it’s coming from somewhere far away as sleep quickly pulls me under.
I wake up to sunlight streaming through the windows, its warmth creeping across the bed, and the faint smell of coffee drifting into the room. Blinking against the brightness, I spot Mandy perched on the edge of the bed, scrolling through her phone. She’s already dressed, her hair wrapped in a towel. “What time is it?” I mumble, my voice groggy as I sit up, my muscles protesting every movement.
She glances over her shoulder with a grin that’s far too cheerful for this hour. “Good morning, sunshine! It’s 7:38 a.m.,” she announces, her voice filled with energy. I groan and rub my eyes, wondering how she manages to be this lively in the mornings. Mandy points toward the bedside table, where a steaming mug sits waiting.
“Coffee’s ready. Come on, get up. We’ve got things to do, people to follow!”
Reluctantly, I reach for the cup, the warmth seeping into my hands and filling me with a small sense of peace. “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, taking a sip. The rich taste jolts my senses awake, even as my body remains sluggish. Mandy disappears from the room, leaving me to finish my coffee in silence, reminding me that I have just 40 minutes before we need to leave.
The soft chirping of birds catches my attention, drawing my gaze to the window. The view that had captivated me last night is even more breathtaking in the morning light.
The park sprawls out in front of me, bathed in golden sunlight. My eyes trace the path nearest to the house, leading to a white fountain where birds flutter and play in the cascading water. A man sits alone on a bench, facing the house, and I find myself wondering what’s on his mind. Beyond the fountain, clusters of trees frame the park, providing both privacy and serenity. To the right, a tennis court sits empty, while to the left, a small car park holds two cars and a black motorbike. Vibrant flower beds add splashes of colour throughout the landscape, each one more picturesque than the last.
I make a mental note to explore the park later before glancing at the clock on the window sill. Only 25 minutes remain.
The suitcase I abandoned last night lies by the bed, and I throw it open, rummaging through the mess in search of something to wear. Clothes land in every direction before I finally settle on a white flowy top and leather leggings, tossing them onto the bed.
“Makeup, makeup, makeup… where are you?” I mutter, my frustration growing as I dig through the pile. Nothing. “Fuck.” Time is running out as I pull on the clothes and gather my hair into a quick bun, digging back through my suitcase, I spot my sunglasses buried at the bottom.
“You ready?” Mandy’s voice carries from the doorway, where she leans casually, inspecting her nails. “Yes, I’m ready,” I reply, meeting her gaze. Her laughter bursts out before she can stop it.
“Well, thanks for the confidence boost,” I snap, grabbing my bag from the bed. “No! I’m sorry, it’s just…” she trails off, struggling to contain her amusement. Rolling my eyes, I shove past her, unwilling to entertain her teasing. Mandy scrambles to catch up as I make my way to the staircase.
“You didn’t let me finish,” she says, her voice almost pleading.
“Finish what? Laughing at me?”
She pulls out a small mirror, holding it up for me to see. My reflection greets me with smudged mascara, dark circles beneath my eyes that give me an undeniable resemblance to a panda. “Great. Panda eyes,” I mutter, slipping my sunglasses down to hide the mess.
Mandy’s heels click against the marble stairs as I head down, not bothering to wait for her. By the time she reaches the door, I’m already in the car with the engine running. “Alright, speedy, you could have waited,” she huffs, catching her breath as she slides into the passenger seat and fastens her seatbelt. I glance at her with a smirk, putting the car into gear. The house shrinks in the rear-view mirror as we pull onto the main road while Mandy taps on the sat nav, entering our destination with ease.
“Dunkin?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Always coffee first,” she replies with a grin. “You know the rules.”