Shattered Innocence

Secrets Unveiled

The drive to the church located on the outskirts of the small town only takes another hour. It's approximately thirty minutes from the estate I grew up in, and it's also the church where I was baptized, against my father's beliefs. He didn't believe in any higher power or deity, only in what he could perceive with his senses. However, having unbaptized children made him stand out in our close-knit community, and he wanted to fit in. Consequently, we were compelled to have the ceremony, and now he must have a service and be laid to rest in the same hallowed grounds he criticized. The engine of my motorcycle rumbles loudly as I pull into the attached car park, habitually choosing a spot near the exit.

After removing my helmet, I notice a group of older ladies and gentlemen in military attire staring at me, most likely due to the noise of my bike. They soon turn their attention to greet the vicar standing at the open double doors. The church bells remain silent, and the enormous stained-glass windows allow sunlight to stream into the vast, one-room church with its lofty arched ceilings, ancient stone pillars engraved with names and dates, and hard, uncomfortable wooden pews adorned with colorful kneeling cushions. Letting out a sigh, I turn off the bike and scan the area and car park, searching for my sister, Lily. However, I don't see her and wonder if she is already inside or if she didn't come.

She probably still has affection for Father, completely unaware of his monstrous actions, but I can't be certain. She maintained contact with him and even lived with him until about two years ago to save on medical school expenses. After all, Father believed in self-reliance and would never have paid a penny for her education, likely expecting her to learn to fend for herself. He was most likely disappointed that she didn't pursue a career in scientific research like him, as she had both the intellect and the drive. So why did she choose a different path? I suppose I'll find out. I just need to gather my courage, enter the church, and hope I don't cause any trouble. The thought amuses me briefly before fading away. It's more likely that I'll be recognized, recaptured, or followed—perhaps even harmed. He might have given orders, and his acquaintances could be on the lookout for me.

However, I no longer resemble the compliant and obedient Nora who ran away, and that works to my advantage. Hanging my helmet on the bike, I put on my sunglasses and take a moment to glance back at the cars behind me. There are several BMWs, Audis, a Rolls Royce, a couple of Mercedes... and a black SUV that stands out at the end of the row. Nevertheless, I shrug off any concerns and decide to stop being afraid and head inside the church. If they want me, they'll have to deal with me first. Passing through the squeaky wrought iron gate, I stroll down the cobbled path and join the line of mourners. When it's my turn to enter, I nod at the vicar as he hands me a small booklet, which I open with a snort. The booklet reads, "Beloved father and friend. Dr. Thompson was an inspiration to everyone he met, a diligent worker, and a genuinely good person." I mutter under my breath,

"What a load of rubbish." The older vicar looks at me quizzically and says, "Excuse me?" I quickly correct myself,

"I said, beautiful." He nods but appears puzzled. Passing through the ornate entrance, I scan the crowded pews. It's not until she stands at the front, wearing a knee-length black dress, a cardigan, tights, and flats, she exudes an impeccable sense of elegance. Her demeanor is composed and flawless, evident in the graceful way she accepts condolences and greets people. I find it hard to look away from her, but as the door shuts behind me, I quickly take refuge at the end of an empty pew. A man in the neighboring pew glances over and offers me the familiar sympathetic smile one often wears at funerals.

"Did you know him well?" he asks. "Probably better than anyone," I reply. "I'm sorry for your loss," he offers with a tinge of sadness.

"Don't be," I retort, leaning back and propping my legs up on the pew. I observe the vicar making his way down the aisle towards the podium at the front. The man I was speaking to gapes momentarily before leaning in to whisper to his wife, who then glances in my direction. I lower my sunglasses and wink at her. She gasps and swiftly turns her focus forward, causing me to chuckle as the organ music begins to play. I nearly drift off to sleep, but then the vicar starts speaking. He drones on about my father, his speech punctuated with hymns and heartfelt tributes. And then it's her turn. Lily. She stands with her hands clasped at her belly, making her way to the microphone, her eyes filled with sadness and lowered gaze. Her hands tremble slightly, betraying her nervousness. I know she dislikes public speaking and being the center of attention. Lily delicately clears her throat, and I notice that her exquisite features remain the same, only grown-up now.

She has the same button nose, slightly round face, naturally thick eyebrows, and light lashes. Freckles dust her cheeks and nose, while her icy-blonde hair hangs straight over one shoulder. Her makeup is minimal, with nude lip gloss, brown eyeliner, and mascara, accentuating her natural beauty. My sister truly possesses the kind of beauty that everyone envies, even me. Lily has always been graceful and soft-spoken, and when she does speak, her words carry a level of intelligence beyond her years.

She's perfect, unlike me. "My father was a good man."

Seriously, Lily? Her words jolt me as if she just slapped me, and I close my eyes. "He devoted his life to making this world a better place, first through his service to the country, and then with his groundbreaking contributions in the fields of medicine and science. Given more time, he would have achieved even greater things. He was a good soul taken from us too soon. My family... we're empty." Her voice catches.

"After the tragic death of my sister when she was just seventeen—" Damn it. He told her I died? I didn't expect it to hurt this much, but it does. Did she ever wonder what happened? Did she miss me as much as I missed her? Well, at least she had closure and didn't have to wonder if I was out there. "—my father was never the same." "I bet he wasn't," I mutter. The people in front of me glare, and I stick my tongue out at them. However, I hear a low chuckle and turn my head to meet the intense gaze of a large man at the end of the opposite pew. Four other striking men sit beside him. They appear too captivating and cheerful to be mourners, so who are they? Lily's words bring me back from their stares, and I quickly avert my gaze, pondering their identity. They dress differently from the other mourners, more akin to my own style.

"And now that I am alone, the last of our legacy, I miss them both so much." A tear, genuine and unfeigned, rolls down her cheek, revealing her raw emotions. Lily always strived to meet her father's expectations of a perfect, sophisticated woman, suppressing her tears in public. He believed that displaying emotions was a sign of weakness or vulnerability. "I ask that you remember him for his brilliance, for the love he brought into the world, and the great things he did as we stand together in his memory." She turns her gaze towards the casket. "Goodbye, Father. May we meet again."

Oh, I truly hope we do meet again. I'll make sure to confront him. The rest of the funeral passes uneventfully, and I lean on my bike, observing the burial from a distance. Good riddance. My eyes remain fixed on Lily throughout. She embodies the perfect daughter—sad but composed, polite, and reserved. She shakes hands, offers sorrowful smiles, and engages in conversations until everyone departs. When she is finally alone, Lily turns and gazes at the grave, her shoulders sagging in a display of vulnerability. I push off from the bike and approach her, stopping just behind her silently. My heart skips a beat. Of all the times I imagined seeing her again, of being reunited, this wasn't how I envisioned it. Fear wells up within me, fearing that she may not remember me... or worse. "I'm all alone," she whispers, and I flinch. I wish I could assure her that she's never been alone and explain everything, but I can't. It's better that she never knows, for her own safety. But can I really do this? Can I reenter her life? And will she allow me to? My decision is taken away as she turns around. Startled, she frowns initially, but her expression clears, and Lily lowers her eyes respectfully.

"I'm so sorry. I thought I was alone. Please forgive my outburst," she starts, her lips trembling despite her attempt to hide it. She has always been too caring. "Outburst? Come on, Lilith, you know I'm the queen of outbursts." She gasps, her head jerking up. Her eyes widen as she freezes, clearly caught off guard by the use of her nickname, one that only I used. I can see her confusion. Do I really appear that different? Lowering my glasses, I smile, causing her to recoil. "Hi, sis." "Nora?" she whispers before her hand flies to cover her mouth, and she takes a step back. I grab her arm before she can react, as her heel catches on the uneven ground and she stumbles. I steady her, but she jerks her arm away as if my touch burned her.

"It's me." I nod solemnly, my fists clenched to contain the warmth and tenderness of her touch, so familiar yet contrasting with my scarred flesh.

"It's been a long time."

"You're dead." She shakes her head and pinches herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I see you're still doing that." I chuckle, unable to contain myself.

"Nora, I'm not dead. It's really me."

"No, no, I'm finally going insane. I knew it would happen," she rambles, her cheeks turning pink. She cautiously opens one eye and squeaks when she sees me, causing my grin to widen. "Nora, stop. You're not going insane. I promise it's me. It's Nora."

"No, you're dead!" she exclaims.

"Your favorite color is pastel blue. When you're tired or think no one is around, you tend to mumble to yourself. Talking your thoughts out loud is something you enjoy. Wearing heels to work is your style, as it makes people look up to you rather than down on you." I pause, hesitant. "You have a fear of thunder and used to seek refuge in my bed—"

"Stop!" she pleads, her big eyes brimming with tears that soon cascade down her cheeks as she gazes at me.

"It's really you, isn't it?" I nod silently, meeting her unwavering stare. "He told me you were dead."

"He always would," I scoff. "I'm not—"

"But that means you left," she murmurs, thinking aloud, her eyes darting back to mine, narrowing with a mix of realization and anger. "You left! I thought you were dead! I mourned you! What is wrong with you?" she rants. "You just abandoned me... your own little sister. No letter, no phone call. Nothing. You let me grieve and yearn for you. You left me all alone." Her voice breaks, and I flinch, the pain mirroring what I see in her eyes, now overshadowed by anger tinged with sadness.

"Why? Why did you leave me? Leave us? And why return after all this time? Why now?"

"Lilith," I begin, stepping closer. She stumbles back, extending her hand as if to ward me off physically.

"No! Don't do that."

"Do what?" I inquire, furrowing my brow.

"Address me as if nothing has changed. You can't just waltz back into my life as if you never left!" "Lily—Lilith," I correct, noticing her lips contort in anger.

"Please, let me explain. I never intended to leave—" "Stop!" she interrupts, her gaze now filled with sorrow as she looks at me.

"It's too late, Nora. I don't want your lies and excuses. For ten years, you had opportunities to come back, to reach out. Regardless of what happened, you chose to depart and start a life without us, without me. No, it's too late. Stay away from me!" She rushes past me, as if fleeing from demons of hell, leaving behind the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Damn, that didn't go well. I yearn to strike something, my narrowed eyes fixating on the upturned soil. This is your fault, you bastard. I spit on his grave, then turn to follow her, but she's vanished. My shoulders slump as I make my way back to my bike. I'll have to persist. With his demise, there's nothing holding me back from my sister, and despite my nomadic and treacherous existence, I miss her dearly.

Seeing her reminded me of the bond we once shared, and how much I love her and crave her presence in my life. I refuse to let him destroy everything, even in death.