Page 43 of One Last Regret

I half-expect Josephine and Etienne to stop him, but they offer no objection as he steps out of the room and closes the door.

When it's only us inside, I face the two of them with my hands on my hips and say, "The two of you need to get over yourselves now. I understand how difficult these circumstances are for both of you, but you're grown adults, and you need to act like it. Those children are on the verge of lifelong trauma. I've only just arrived. There's only so much I can do to protect them. You're their father and grandmother. You need to stop behaving like spoiled children, angry that Daddy isn't here to make everything better. The truth is that we are all three of us responsible for Amelia's actions today, but I feel no guilt saying that the greater fault lies with you two.Theyare your priority now. Focus onthem. Not your club, not your fear, not your anger, yourchildren. If you can’t do that right now, then you need to let me take them somewhere else until you can.”

Etienne shifts in his seat. “That won’t be necessary, Mary. You’re right. We’ve behaved very poorly lately, and I’m sorry for the impact that’s had on the children. But we’ll compose ourselves. We can’t break the family up. If we do that, we won’t get back together.” He shifts again. “I apologize for our earlier conversation as well. I know I said some things that were very shocking and concerning. I spoke out of turn, and what I said isn’t really how I feel.”

Josephine frowns and narrows her eyes, but she doesn’t address Etienne’s admission. She only says to me, “I’ll keep the worst of my feelings to myself, Mary. But I’ve just lost my manager and his wife within a few days, and a part of me wonders if foul play isn’t involved.”

“Mother—” Etienne warns.

“Oh, hush. She was going to find out eventually.”

I tilt my head. “Foul play?”

“Of course. Audrey didn’t love Claude. What you saw at the funeral was only a show. She had no reason to kill herself now that she’s been handed the life she’s always wanted: money to spare and no one’s feelings to consider but her own.”

Etienne sighs and rubs his temples. “Perhaps you should go tend to the children, Mary.”

“If you suspect foul play,” I reply, “you should call the police.”

“Who do you think I was on the phone with just now?” she replies. “Etienne’s right. Go take care of the children. As you said so eloquently, we must clean up our own messes.”

I leave the dining room, shocked off of my temporary perch of self-righteousness. Audrey murdered? But why? The only people who might have a reason to want her dead are the Lacroixs. And if they’re not responsible, then who is?

I look into the parlor and see Henri pick up the cursed sheet music and toss it into a garbage bag. He meets my eyes, and an unspoken understanding passes between us. There is no curse here. No music is responsible for the pain this family suffers. That is entirely the result of human actions and accidents of fate.

Knowing that only makes me more afraid of what’s to come.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I don’t know if I should tell Amelia that Henri has removed the cursed sheet music from the parlor. No doubt this would comfort her greatly, but despite his own superstitions, Etienne has a good point. Perhaps it would be better not to validate such superstitious concerns. I decide not to bring it up. The children are calm right now, and that might be the most I can expect from them right now.

They’re sitting on Amelia’s bed and holding hands. The movie of the day is about a racecar who has to learn humility by repaving a street in a small town. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but I’m not paying particularly close attention.

I glance at their plates and see they’ve eaten the chicken fingers and carrot sticks I made for them. That’s good. If they can eat, then they’re not in too poor of a mental state.

They just look so tired. They’re so young to have to deal with all of this.

I reach over and brush hair out of Gabriel’s face. He glances at me and smiles softly. That encourages me more than anything. He’s shown far less resilience than Amelia thus far. It’s nice to see that he can still smile.

“Would you children like some ice cream?” I ask.

Amelia scoffs. “Ice cream isn’t going to make this better.”

“Well, I’m going to get some for myself,” I reply. “And no, it won’t change things, but I think it will make me feel better, and there’s nothing wrong with making yourself feel better when things are difficult. Gabriel, would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very well. Amelia, I’ll bring you some too.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I head downstairs and prepare bowls of ice cream. It won’t really do much to make me feel better, but Amelia needs to see me eating some so she doesn’t feel guilty about it.

When I return to the room, she’s crying softly. Gabriel is holding her and telling her everything is going to be all right.

I quickly set the ice cream down on her desk and rush to their side. “What is it, Amelia? What’s wrong?”

“What do youthinkis wrong?” she cries out. “People are dying, and everyone else is going insane, and no one’sdoinganything about it! The music is killing people, and no one wants to admit it, and… and… and it’s all my fault! I just wanted…”

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