Page 50 of Behind These Four Walls
She shamefully agreed, wondering when her joke-telling ability had become so corny.
The cart stopped, and she hopped out as he said, “I’ll think about becoming more of a slushy. Tell them I’ve taken the golf cart so they don’t freak out thinking it’s missing.”
She nodded, stepping back so he could be on his way.
Myles grew serious. “Remember to watch yourself around here. This place—the people—may come off perfect, beautiful, elegant. But that’s all a facade. Life here is not that simple.”
She thanked him for the warning, trying to tally the number of times Myles had helped her out and figure out what his help meant.
She stepped inside the building and glanced back. He was still there, watching her with an expression she couldn’t read. Then, in a blink, he was gone, and her most pressing thought was how she could get into Eden’s room.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
She wasn’t able to get into Eden’s room until a few days later. During that time, Isla utilized her access to the estate and the people on it under the pretext of her profile of Victor Corrigan. She’d gained more insight about who Eden had been pre-Daytona from the people who knew her. Eden was loved, and no one, except maybe her stepmother, had anything negative to say about her, and it seemed like they missed her.
It was as good a time as any for Isla to be in Eden’s space from when she had been Edie. Maybe that would give her a clue about what had forced her to leave. It was for the greater good, Isla told herself. With Holland now back at school, Isla felt free to do what she needed without guilt hanging over her head. And gradually, the staff, Mae, and Lawrence were warming to her. Even Myles treated her with less frost. She’d take it.
The lock on Eden’s bedroom door gave a soft click, and Isla slid the master key that she’d borrowed from Mae’s key ring back into her pocket. She hoped Mae wouldn’t realize it was missing, and even more, she hoped Mae wouldn’t be too upset with her for lifting it if she did.
Isla hesitated, feeling intrusive, but she pushed past her doubts. This was the room no one entered. It had been frozen in time on Victor’s command, and no one dared—save Mae every so often to dust—toenter it. Not even Victor. The door creaked open from being underused, revealing a room set thirteen years in the past.
There was even a lingering scent of lavender in the air from the last time the room had been dusted. The decor was eclectic and simple, the room bathed in soft pastels that offset the array of bold theatrical posters that hung from her walls—the infamousHamlet,A Streetcar Named Desire,The Phantom of the Opera,Rent,Grease,West Side Story,Chicago. Isla bet Eden had seen them all on Broadway when they first came out. She would have lovedHamiltonand the latest versions ofWickedif she’d been around. Also up were posters of the River Thames and the Globe Theatre, where many of Shakespeare’s plays had been performed.
Her furniture was expensive yet reflective of her character—understated elegance, light and dainty. Stacks of playbills littered the top of her desk. Eden’s room in Daytona had been fairly bare, minimalist, with one or two reprinted posters. Nothing like what Isla was seeing now. It was Isla’s first true glimpse into Edie Corrigan, and she was awestruck. There was even a half-burned candle on the dresser. She sniffed it. Lavender. Maybe that was where the lingering scent had come from.
Isla moved quickly but cautiously, scanning the room for anything she thought would give her more information. Where would a girl like Edie hide her most precious things? Eden had never kept a journal or diary back home, but here maybe she had. Isla checked under the bed, pushing herself all the way to the other end in case it was against the wall. She slid her hands beneath the extra-fluffy pillows, checked in her desk drawers and between the few books there. Nothing. It was surreal. Everything here reminded Isla of her friend and also taught Isla about her friend. She wanted to sit in the middle of the floor and soak it up. She could see why Victor kept the room locked. It was too hard to look at on a daily basis. Isla rubbed her aching chest.
A narrow bookshelf caught her eye. Among the rows of classic novels and poetry collections topped with Hello Kitty stuffed characters and cute, furry bears was a small dusty stack of DVDs and VHS tapes. Isla raised her brows, trying to think back a decade—had people stillused VHS tapes back then? DVDs, maybe. Now both were considered ancient, and if you admitted to knowing what they were, much less how to use them, you were deemed old, historical.
She pulled them out, examining the titles.Breakfast at Tiffany’s,Casablanca,The Wiz,Fences,Othello, featuring Denzel Washington—a masterpiece, in Isla’s proud opinion—andThe Merchant of Venicewith Al Pacino. One tape in particular stood out among the rest, its case misaligned.Mommie Dearest. Well now.
Isla let out a low chuckle at the irony, forgetting she was not supposed to be here and pulling the black, plastic, rectangular tape from its case. If Edie was anything, it was the queen of subtle shade, and Isla suspected this movie was in honor of Edie’s very own live version of Joan Crawford’s horrible character. As she pulled the tape free, a square piece of yellow paper fell out. She knelt to pick it up, heart beating as she saw the embossedEin script at the top of the paper.
I’d never hurt Holl. How could he ever think that? But I’d rather leave since they want me gone so bad than let Dad look at me like I’m some monster. I already am one after how we left them. If I stay any longer, either I’ll become like him, or I won’t be at all.
Isla’s hands trembled as she read the neat but rushed handwriting again. It was as if Edie had written this in a moment of desperation. This was more than just a clue. This was a window into Eden’s state of mind before she’d left here. This was the explanation for why she’d always seemed to be holding a piece of herself back when she was in Daytona. Her words carried the weight of betrayal and the pain of being blamed for something she hadn’t done. And what was it that Edie had supposedly done to make Victor look at her like she was a monster?
She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the door creak as it widened or feel that the doorway was now filled with an imposing figure that cast an ominous shadow in the room.
“Why the hell are you in here? What do you think you’re doing?” Victor roared. He was so angry his eyes were reddened and his face was covered in a sheen of sweat.
Quickly she got to her feet, shoving the note and the DVD case behind her back, caught right in the act. She worked to put the video into its case and the note in her back pocket as she thought of an explanation that would wipe the complete anger off Victor’s face.
“I was ...” Normally she was so quick, but words were failing her now. “I was looking for stuff that might help me with the project. Edie was—is,” she corrected when he reacted, “such a significant person in your life that I thought being in here would give me better perspective.” She was blathering. She’d never been so scared in her life. Not even when that rowdy gang of gambling thugs had chased her and Rey all the way down Alameda Street until they lost them.
“This room,” he began, his voice low and violent. He was still in the doorway, hadn’t stepped a foot inside. “Is off limits. No one comes in except Mae to clean. This is Edie’s private space, and she wouldn’t want some stranger in it.”
She was caught. She had made a misstep.
“I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” he growled. His eyes swept the room, looking for anything displaced, and landed on the shelf of videos she had disturbed.
Silently, slowly, she replacedMommie Dearestwhere she had found it.
“You come out of there right now. Now, Isla, now!” He pointed at her. He refused to step over the threshold, like some invisible barrier kept him from entering. She realized it was because he couldn’t step in. Stepping in meant giving in to an acceptance of something he did not believe. He wouldn’t step in until Edie was there with him.
He motioned for her to come out, and Isla obliged. Showing him that nothing else was disturbed. Opening her palms to show there was nothing in them. All she had was Mae’s master key. She neared him, and he moved back into the hall, as if he couldn’t get away from the room fast enough. He was the most powerful man around, coming undone.