The Ninth Door

Chapter 19 - Birthday

Sienna

One thing I loved about the Junction was the food. I was so glad Mrs. Winter and Miss Edwards decided to come back, and didn’t look like they planned to leave again. There was a time when we all thought the mansion was going to end up in the hands of strangers – or that it would end up in ruins. Even in flames. I could still remember the night when Pete and his goons started pouring gasoline on my mother and everything else around her. Splashes of the fluid even reached the sleeve of my blouse. I could still taste and smell it. Death. My heart broke every time I remembered. Even years of therapy couldn’t erase the memory. The trauma.

The police came. At that time, I couldn’t figure out who could have called them. The nearest neighbors were too far away. Maybe my mother managed to call? Or was her bond with her brother just that strong?

I was hysterical when the police came. Uncle Stefan ran toward me and carried me away from the scene, covering my eyes. It was too late, though. I had seen enough. The blood. My mother’s wide-open eyes. Her disheveled clothes. I even saw Pete’s insane face as he tipped his chin toward us even as his arms were roughly pulled and handcuffed behind his back. Now that I thought of it, I wondered if it was a way to tell my uncle that he knew about the secret of my identity. Maybe I was giving a psychopath too much credit. My hands curled into fists as I remembered him and my hatred for him.

Dr. Rhodes tried to make me forget, but I could still remember my uncle hissing at Pete and his goons. The hiss might have sounded normal to everyone else who was there, but it could be something else – something more feral. Could it have been a cat trying to control himself? He even managed to punch the devil’s face. Pete was blood-soaked when the police finally dragged him out of the place. It might be strange for some or even corrupt, but it wasn’t for us, the Kelleys were well-loved in this place. The police more likely let my uncle hit my mother’s murderer. Some of the officers were my uncle’s and mother’s friends. Damn, but I still couldn’t call him my father – even in my head.

“Uncle Stefan, why couldn’t you have been my dad?”

I was five. Instead of finding Santa, I caught him placing gifts underneath the tree. I realized now that he was careful he always gave me at least two gifts, one with his handwritten scrawl, “from Uncle Stefan,” and one with the typewritten one, “from your dad.”

He just chuckled then. He lifted me and danced me around, my feet several inches from the floor. We laughed at how silly he was, how much happier without his wife around.

Ruins.

The place was in ruins, then, but they managed to stop the fire.

But ruins could be anything, like the hollow that was left in the middle of it. Like the mess that they left in my heart and mind. I wondered how long I had to trace back to find happiness in our bloodline. Maybe Aunt Rachel had the right idea about stepping away. Even Uncle Stefan left the Junction. However, I couldn’t understand the reason behind him letting his sister take it when it only ever brought them bad luck.

Maybe it should have been destroyed.

Sometimes, though, there were days like today when I understood why the Junction was still here. With the feast in front of us and the servants sitting with Emmerich and me at the long table, I felt like I truly belonged somewhere. I never felt it at my college or even at graduate school – or even at the library where I worked. I was always the strange girl. The new girl. Annette.

“I got you a cake, Sienna,” Mrs. Winter said, her eyes twinkling.

My heart constricted, but I knew I should get myself ready for this. I was born on Christmas Day, but they changed my data as Annette. My birth certificate still held the truth, but my mind abandoned it.

Emmerich tensed beside me. I could almost hear what he was thinking. He didn’t like being unprepared for this. He didn’t know that I would be turning twenty-two while we were here at the Junction. He never asked, but I also never shared. Annette’s birthday was supposed to be in April, but she never celebrated it. She excused herself from it all the time, making up reasons. I almost chuckled at how I could now refer to her in the third person.

In college, even the few friends I made in college didn’t know my real birthday. They didn’t even know my real name, but Jaxon did. He was a boy who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. So, he dug deep and tried to find my secrets. At first, he thought I was seeing someone else. Then, he thought I was just a freak. He was persistent, and he found out about Uncle Stefan from magazine articles he read about him and his business.

“So, you’re not some scholarship kid, are you, Sienna Kelley? That’s what your real name is. Isn’t it?” he sneered. “What’s a billionaire’s niece doing pretending to be someone else? Are you some secret criminal? Did you make your family pay the cops to forget about things you did?”

I only realized my fingers were trembling when I felt Emmerich’s hands on them. He squeezed them gently, taking away the tremors even if it was just for awhile.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s time for you to celebrate your real birthday. You are Sienna Kelley, after all,” he said. “There’s no need for you to celebrate Annette’s birthday. Sometimes, I still forget. You’ve gotten good at it, darling.”

I swore I saw Mrs. Winter’s smile grow wider, and I couldn’t blame her. Somehow, Emmerich made being me much better than how Jaxon said it. I remembered how Jaxon managed to manipulate me into bringing him and a couple of college classmates to the Junction. He wanted to see it. He wanted to see my wealth, and the place where my mother was murdered.

“The sick bastard,” I muttered.

“Sienna?” Emmerich’s voice reminded me that Jaxon was nowhere near. He wasn’t going to bother me again.

“Nothing. I just remembered some asshole.”

Mrs. Winter met my gaze, and I held it for a few beats. She knew who I was talking about. Her eyes dulled a little as if a gray film had covered it. Then, I crescent sliver of gold seemed to pass from left to right, until they were back to their normal blue. One of these days, we would have to sit down and talk about our secrets but right now, we were celebrating my birthday – Christmas Day.

The hand that caressed my fingers stilled, as if Emmerich could read my mind or feel how I was trying to slow my heartbeat down. I heard a low growl coming from his throat, and it was my turn to tense.

Just how much in control – or not – was he of his leopard? I give Mrs. Winter and the other servants quick glances, but they all looked like they didn’t hear it.

“Cheers to our dear Sienna for coming home to us,” Mrs. Winter said, raising her glass of sherry.

I wanted to protest that I wasn’t here for good. I was here for a mission, one that could bring me back my mother even for a few minutes. Could heaven give her to me for one lifetime? Doubt stirred within me.

“Cheers to Sienna, our beloved,” Emmerich said, raising his glass of mulled wine. He almost made me believe his words. There was a sincerity to it that made me feel lonelier for some reason. “Here’s to all your dreams coming true.”

Not the nightmares. Oh, please no.

“Thank you,” was all I could say. Emmerich kissed my cheek, playing the role so well it was making my heart beat faster again, this time for a different reason. I was both relieved and disappointed that he chose my cheek over my lips this time. “I’m not yet sure what this visit truly means, but I feel the urge to return at least this Christmas.”

“Remember when you were little and you used to complain about getting one set of gifts because of Christmas Day?” Ellis asked.

I laughed. Ellis Winter was now in his thirties and his family lived with him here in the Junction.

“Yes. I could never understand why most of the gifts only had Merry Christmas. In hindsight, I usually got double gifts from everyone. They just wrapped two in a box to torture me.”

“W-we didn’t celebrate it as much as it’s done here,” Emmerich said. “But some people can get carried away and bring chests of gifts. Others just wrap gifts in animal skin and leaves.”

Before I could explain why gift-giving was so different in Emmerich’s world, Mrs. Winter was already asking a question. Her eyes glinted with their usual intelligence, and I was afraid that our cover would soon be blown. But I understood Emmerich well. He wanted to share, and he didn’t want to lie about his experiences. He might be getting careless. Comfortable.

“Where did you really come from, Emmerich? I asked you the other day, and I’m now just remembering you didn’t answer.”

Oh. So, they were having a conversation? When was this?

“From far away, Mrs. Winter,” he said, looking as calm as ever.

It was hard to read whether he realized the clues he was giving, or if he was also setting a trap. The air seemed thicker or I was just choking. Something feral was in the air. Scents were becoming more heightened as Emmerich and Mrs. Winter watched each other.

“Far away. Interesting. Did you come from outside the country, not that I’m -,” Mrs. Winter faltered as Ellis cleared his throat.

“Ma, I think you’re now interrogating, Emmerich. Remember the last time?”

“You mean that Jaxon boy? What an awful boy he was.”

“Oh, he was, indeed,” murmured Ellis, looking down at this plate.

“No. I can tell Emmerich is different. But I’m just curious about the chest, because you see, we have a chest in the bride’s room in the turret. There’s a chest there that’s rumored to be from centuries ago.”

“Emmerich likes history, Mrs. Winter.”

“Oh, I bet he does, Sienna. Don’t worry, Emmerich. I love history, too. We’ve had a discussion on history just the other day. Didn’t we?”

My palms grew sweaty. What was Mrs. Winter talking about? Somehow, I felt there was more information being exchanged here, one that I was being stubbornly blind to.

“It was, uh, great talking to you about history the other day, Mrs. Winter,” Emmerich said, nodding in agreement. “I believe that we need to know our history so that we can better pave our way toward the future.”

“Or time could be running in parallel lines,” Mrs. Winter commented quietly, but I could feel that she was not raring to fight. She smiled at Emmerich, and he nodded as if in understanding.

“All this talk is giving me a headache,” I complained. “Can we dig into the cake now?”

“Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Winter said.

Miss Edwards baked me a three-tier chocolate cake with real strawberries. It had a cream cheese filling that my mouth had been watering for. Somehow, having Emmerich and the servants with me for Christmas was more comfortable. It felt more like a family.

“It’s delicious,” I praised, moaning as the cake practically melted on my tongue.

“Anything for you, Sienna Kelley. We’re just happy you’re home,” Miss Edwards said, and that was something. She rarely ever spoke.

After the Christmas dinner, Emmerich asked me to go to the garden in the front yard. I was curious, and admittedly, a little thrilled.

“Happy birthday, Sienna,” he said, as he handed me something in the palm of my hand.

“What is this?” I asked, looking at the vial with various dried flowers in it.

“I gathered them the other day. They’re protection. I wish I could have gotten you something else. I would have if I had known it was your special day.”

“You don’t have to give me a gift. You’re helping me with a quest that could change my life.”

“I’ll find a way to get you something you deserve,” he said earnestly. “But you know, in my time and place, we celebrate name days instead of birthdays.”

“Really? When should be mine, then?”

“The name day for Sienna is April 28.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. Uncle Stefan chose April 28 as my birthday as Annette. He wanted me to forget who I was, but he wanted to remind himself somehow because it couldn’t be a coincidence.