32. Elyssa
ELYSSA
A ll hell broke loose at the Academy after the news of Mia’s death. She had been found in the woods, hanging from a tree. A suicide, they said.
Or, that was the official report anyway, but something in me refused to believe it. We never know what people go through internally, Mia could have looked fine from the outside while losing it on the inside, but something in me knew it wasn’t the case. My gut was telling me that Mia had been murdered.
And the Academy was hiding it again, disguising it as a suicide to pacify parents and fool them into thinking there weren’t people on campus sacrificing women to an old deity.
But it wasn’t everything.
Traces of cocaine had been found in her blood, too. Her parents were coming down today to get her body, and then we were all going back to New York together. Exam week had been canceled and everyone would be getting another week off for Christmas break. The school had explained that a psychological cell would be opened as soon as we came back, to avoid ‘tragedies’ such as what happened to Mia.
To say I was angry would be an understatement. I was livid with how the school handled this, with the fact that there hadn’t even been a proper investigation. The fact that Mia had had drug abuse problems seemed enough proof for them to call it a suicide.
I asked, no, demanded to see her body because I knew deep down that I would find the symbol of The Order on her, but they categorically refused, claiming only direct family had access to it. I tried telling Lorenzo he had to request access but my cousin only broke down in sobs, refusing to see her like that.
For now, the only thing giving me the strength to hold on was anger. The fury coursing through my veins whenever I thought of what they did to her, made me want to retch. I wanted to cry, I wanted to grieve, but I couldn’t. Not only because my body couldn’t seem to function like it normally would, but also because of the anguish going back home brought me.
I finished putting the last of my things inside my suitcase, just numbly going through the motions when someone knocked on my door. As I opened it, I felt like I might faint at first, thinking I’d seen a ghost.
Mia had been the literal copy of her mother. They shared the same hair, the same eyes, same complexion. I had no doubt she would have looked just like Aunt Matilda with time… but that thought didn’t matter anymore.
Tears flooding her cheeks, Aunt Matilda pulled me into a bear hug, holding me tight and sobbing in my arms. I was hurting but, clearly, that was nothing compared to what a mother who knew she would have to bury her child soon must have felt like.
“My baby,” she sobbed, drenching my shirt. “Please tell me it’s a mistake, Elyssa. Tell me my baby’s okay.”
And just like that, the tears finally broke free from my eyes. We held each other as we cried, sharing the agony, the heartbreak of losing someone we loved. Of losing family.
“I’m so sorry. So sorry,” I mumbled restlessly.
I had failed to protect her. I failed Mia and I failed Aunt Matilda. They were my only real family left and I’d failed them so horribly.
The drive back home was tense.
Actually, tense was too tame a word. It was hell .
A helicopter took us from the island to some small town’s airport in Oregon, and then we took the family jet to fly back to New York.
I hadn’t had time to say goodbye to anyone from school: neither my friends nor Konstantin. They’d probably sent me a few texts since yesterday but I had turned my phone off, not wanting to risk his name lighting my screen and my cousins or uncles seeing it.
Nobody spoke during the whole drive to the estate. The twins’ father didn’t even acknowledge my presence.
Renaldi Gavini was everything I hated in a man: greedy, cruel, egotistical, and too proud. He hadn’t shed one tear for his daughter, not even when they went to identify the body and Aunt Matilda had come back looking like a ghost.
If anything, he looked annoyed to be there, like he had something better to do than tend to his dead daughter’s corpse.
We sat at the back of the town car that came to get us from the airport, he and Aunt Matilda next to each other while Lorenzo and I sat side by side, right in front of them. Viola and Batista had taken another car with their parents who came to meet us at the airport, and I was grateful for that.
Renaldi was engrossed in his phone, Lorenzo looked like he wanted to die, and I simply stared into the distance, deep in thought.
Aunt Matilda though, was sobbing softly and staring out of the window, blowing her nose every now and then.
“Will you shut up already!” boomed Renaldi’s voice as he turned his face to look at my aunt.
I squeezed my fists, dying to tell him to fuck off, to respect a woman crying for her child, but I couldn’t.
His violent outbreak only caused Matilda to cry harder, and she broke my heart when she tried muffling the sounds with her trembling hands.
“I swear to Christ, Matilda, if you don’t shut up I’ll shut you up myself,” he hissed, getting in her face.
To my surprise, Matilda clapped back this time around. “How can you be so heartless! Our beautiful baby girl just d–died!”
“She was an addict and whore! Or didn’t you see the report from the coroner?”
“She was raped!” my aunt screeched like she was finally getting to express herself after years of abuse.
Her words made my heart lurch in my throat and I gasped, hands coming up to cover my mouth in shock. My gaze snapped to Lorenzo’s and he too looked sick, eyes wide and pale skin staring back at me. I didn’t even have time to dwell on it, though, because Renaldi slapped Aunt Matilda across the face so violently it made her head snap to the side.
I yelped in surprise. My body shaking in anger, fear, and frustration. I knew intervening would only cause her more trouble so I didn’t, but it was costing me.
Renaldi didn’t stop there and grabbed a fistful of my beautiful aunt’s hair.
Bringing her closer to him as she cried softly, he whispered in what could only be described as a deranged voice, “It’s a good thing she’s fucking dead because if she came back home bearing a bastard child like your sister did, I would have killed her myself.”