Page 62 of Devil's Delirium

“It’s in his drawer,” said Oscar.

I giggled. “How do you know that?” With a quick, furtive glance around the shop, I moved to Ivan’s station. The drawer slid open with a quiet rasp, and I found the key exactly where I knew it would be. Its cold metal felt reassuring in my hand.

“I know things,” he answered ominously.

He really did. “I missed you and your arrogance.” I returned to his office door, the key slipping smoothly into the lock. The click of the mechanism seemed louder in the hushed room, a final break from his control.

“Of course you did.” His voice was muffled, coming from the adjacent room.

As the door swung open, I peered inside. The office was cavernous, the blinds drawn tight. Dust floated in the slivers of light that piercedthrough the gaps. The air was stagnant with old paper files and the faint hint of Ivan’s whisky. His desk was cluttered with stacks of paperwork, ink bottles, and sketches, all remnants of his presence. The leather chair sat empty, a symbol of the power he once held.

I stepped inside, the room’s atmosphere heavy with the ghosts of the past. This space, once a source of intimidation, now felt like the final frontier of my liberation. I could almost hear the echo of his voice, barking orders, but it faded quickly in the silence. Standing there, I realized just how much control I now had. The shop would be mine, and with Ivan gone, I could truly make it my own.

Rifling through the disordered stack of papers on Ivan’s desk, I sifted out a pile of important bills and letters to bring home and review. The crisp rustling of paper filled the room with the faint smell of ink and aged documents. Sunlight slipped through the half-closed blinds, painting a warm, dappled pattern over the cluttered desk. The gentle glow accentuated the worn edges of the scattered papers.

I turned my attention to the filing cabinet, its metal surface cold and slightly dusty to the touch. Each drawer creaked in protest as I pulled them open, searching for the deeds to the shop. The cabinet’s contents were an amalgam of meticulously labeled folders and haphazardly stuffed files. As I dug deeper, the faint smell of musty paper grew stronger, and the underlying aroma of Ivan’s cologne seemed to linger everywhere.

Finding the deeds, I carefully examined them, the paper slightly yellowed with age but still legible. My mind raced with thoughts of how to get myself signed on as the owner. Did Ivan have a will? Was there a next of kin who might come sniffing around? In the ten years I’d worked for him, he had never mentioned family at all. The possibility that someone could emerge from the shadows, claiming ownership, sent a hollow feeling through my gut.

I continued my search, hoping to uncover any more clues about his personal affairs. The desk drawers yielded little more than old receipts and business correspondence. Each piece of paper I touched seemed to tell a story of Ivan’s secretive nature. The quiet room, with its faint lighting and the rhythmic ticking of a nearby clock, felt like a vault of hidden secrets, each layer peeling back to reveal more questions.

As I brought out the stack of papers I needed to take home, the reality of my new responsibilities settled in. The shop’s future rested on my shoulders. The silence of the office, once oppressive, now felt like a canvas of possibilities. I had the knowledge and the drive to make this place my own, but first, I had to find out what obstacles lay in my way. The sense of freedom was exhilarating yet tinged with a nervous anticipation for what lay ahead.

“What did you find?” asked Oscar, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Bills, letters, deeds.”

“Good. So we’re staying?”

“I hope so. If I can find a way to legally get the deeds signed to me.”

“You just need to find the right mage for that.”

“Yeah, that would be easier than a lawyer. I can probably do it myself, but I’d like to find someone more experienced to avoid making a bigger mess and needing them anyway to undo a big legal challenge. I’ll see who I can find.”

“It’s going to be so refreshing to never see him again.”

I laughed. “It is. I’m going to go home now. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Tess.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know. Bye, Oscar.”

Chapter Thirty-Five: Shadows of Paradise

Tess

The next day, Iopened the shop at ten in the morning with a breakfast sandwich and coffee in hand. I greeted Oscar and sat down to eat my breakfast. Ivan never let me bring breakfast in, so it felt glorious to bite into the elicit item while I sat in his seat.

“I remember food…”

He sounded so wistful it broke my heart. I wiped the corner of my mouth and swallowed the bite before answering. “Sorry, Oscar. It must suck.”

“Better than being dead. I think. I’ve never been properly dead. I imagine that sucks worse. But I do miss food… and fucking. I really miss fucking.”

“Yeah, so anyway. I have a couple clients today and a couplemore tomorrow.”

“You should get laid if me just mentioning it makes you that uncomfortable.”

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