Page 10 of Kept in the Dark

Hailey wondered if the tyrant had a heart after all. Though, if he did, it was miniscule. Maybe after all the terror he’d rained down on his family, David felt a sliver of guilt and somehow didn’t want to give up old memories that undoubtedly haunted the home.

It was even more surprising, though, that her stepmother willingly lived there. If Hailey were in Lauren’s shoes, she would have convinced her husband to sell the home that harbored so much pain and cruelty. Who would want to live in a house where someone was murdered, even if it was grand and beautiful?

It gave Hailey the creeps.

Hailey’s heartbeat quickened as the two-story home came into view. She rolled down the window in hopes that the evening breeze would ease her anxiety. Those walls contained so many memories- more bad than good, unfortunately. Hailey drove the long, palm tree-lined drive, the lake peeking from behind the house as the driveway wound its way to the place she spent the first eighteen years of her life.

She circled around the massive fountain that had been built in the middle of the yard and parked the car. Her mother loathed that fountain, claiming it was a drowning hazard. But her father always loved the extravagant things in life and waved off Morgan’s concerns. He quickly revoked his judgments of his wife when Sara nearly drowned a year or two after it was built.

Though Hailey never recalled the fountain spouting water after the incident, a soft melody of splashes now joined the dusk’s lullaby as it beat against the pebbles at its foundation.

Hailey hated the site of it.

She didn’t immediately get out of her car. She sat motionless for a few minutes as dreadful memories surfaced. Her mind was replaying that night, the one where she had become motherless and found her own flesh and blood was the cause of her pain. Even after all these years, she could still vividly recall the sounds of the police as they swarmed her home, drowning out the familiar summer night song of croaks and chirps.

After suffering her own trauma hours earlier, she had come home to what became her worst nightmare.

She had been walking up the driveway toward the house when the flashing red and blue lights demanded her attention. As she had gotten closer, the crime scene tape and police officers had blurred together as her body fought off exhaustion and shock.

The hairs on her nape stood at attention and she had innately known something awful had happened. She had wanted to sprint toward her home and find answers, but after what she’d been through, she didn’t have the energy or the strength. Yet, despite her body’s protests, she had been instinctively drawn to the scene of the crime, every step becoming harder than the last.

Hailey had stopped for a moment, realizing she wasn’t presentable.

Should she change? Her mother would have a heart attack if she came home like this.

Her clothes had been torn and she was missing a shoe. She had brushed off the grass that clung to her jeans, the green streaks irking her. She had pulled a stray leaf from her hair.

Assessing herself, she had grasped at the locket she always wore and nearly cried out when she had realized it was missing. She had quickly remembered she’d given it to Trey weeks before.

However, it was the blood that had startled her. She had still been covered in the crimson stains that mixed with dirt, though at that point it caked her skin. She had aggressively scraped at her arms and hands, trying to erase the terror her body had just endured. When it wouldn’t come off, she had ordered her legs to walk forward toward whatever violence occurred on such a warm summer’s night.

Every step had been heavy, as if her body was trying to protect her from the monsters that lurked in the shadows. Tears had flowed down her cheeks, as if they were attempting to wash away the dirt and horror that stained her face.

“Mom,” Trinity said from the passenger seat, “snap out of it. You’re being weird.”

Hailey was startled back to reality. “Sorry, there’s just a lot of stuff you don’t understand about this place and it's really hard for me to be here.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean you have to be all spooky about it and zone out.”

Hailey smiled and shook her head. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop being spooky.”

The two of them climbed out of the car and Hailey took in the magnificent structure. As much as Hailey wanted to stay elsewhere, there were no other options in town. Since tourists very rarely came to Auburndale, there were no bed-and-breakfasts, inns, or hotels. At least none that were kept clean and weren’t used to run small criminal enterprises.

After getting their suitcase out of the trunk, she and Trinity mounted the large steps and knocked on the front door. A woman answered, streaks of gray visible throughout her blonde hair. Her brown eyes gleamed as a wide smile crept on her face.

“Gen!” Hailey exclaimed.

“Hailey, my sweet girl!” The woman wrapped Hailey in an embrace and Hailey smiled at the housekeeper who had also helped raise Hailey and Sara.

“How are you? I can’t believe you’re still working for the slave driver.” Hailey pointed toward the house, indicating David. It had been an ongoing joke between Hailey, Sara, and Genevieve.

Genevieve’s mother started working for Henry and Camila Gallagher when Genevieve was six years old. She and David grew up together, though Genevieve was a few years older than David. The two had spent many days playing together but as time passed, socio-economic status, different schools, and opposing social circles caused them to drift apart, though they still shared many secrets and confided in one another.

When Genevieve turned seventeen, she began working for the family as a housekeeper alongside her mother. Even when her mother passed away, Genevieve continued to dedicate herself to the Gallaghers. Especially to Hailey and Sara.

Hailey thought Genevieve may be a saint for entertaining David’s malicious and controlling demeanor for so long, though he never seemed to show the woman that side of him. Genevieve had never hesitated to put him in his place, and he respected her because of it.

Genevieve let out a rambunctious laugh. “The slave driver still needs my help.”

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