Between The Walls

Chapter 23

Isabelle silently followed as Brahms' grandfather walked around the house. Grandfather. Brahms has a grandfather and he's here. She wondered if he knew about Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire's escapades.

The old man, who she now knows as Mr. Valentia, is a short, stout man with a balding forehead and a permanent frown. But despite his frail look, the man definitely exudes an intimidating aura.

Like grandfather, like grandson.

They walked around for a few minutes, with Mr. Valentia looking around as if looking for something and Isabelle trailing behind him like a puppy. Finally, Mr. Valentia stopped in front of the huge Heelshire family portrait displayed in the hall. His eyes scanned the image of Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire posing with an 8-year-old Brahms.

He admired the portrait for a few moments before turning to Isabelle. "What do you know about my family, Ms. Williams?" he asked.

Surprised by the question, Isabelle answered what she can. "I know that Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire has a son who died in an accident when he was 8 years old..." she trailed off, unsure of her own answer.

Mr. Valentia looked skeptically at her. He has a feeling that she knows more than she's letting on. And he sure hopes that she does, for it will make things easier for him.

"Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire left a few weeks ago and has yet to return, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"What happened since then?"

Isabelle doesn't know what to say. His set of questions confuse her. Does he want to know how she kept the house, or about her discovery of Brahms' existence? "I-What do you mean, sir?"

"Don't play dumb, child." he scolded. "Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Mysterious noises? Random things getting moved from one place to another? Anything like that?"

"Uhm, no...?" she answered, but it sounded like a question. She wasn't sure where the old man was going on with this.

Mr. Valentia inspected her for a moment, and at last, gave a defeated sigh. "You must think me insane, Ms. Williams. Forgive me. But I had just recently received a letter from my daughter and now I want some answers."

Isabelle perked up at this. "Mrs. Heelshire contacted you? What did she say? Did she say that she will be returning soon?"

"No, Ms. Williams. They will not be returning soon, nor ever."

"What? Why?"

"They're gone. In the letter, they said that they are planning to kill themselves."

An eerie silence enveloped them as Isabelle struggled to absorb the news. Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire committed suicide. Dear goodness, what will happen now? And Brahms! How will he handle this information? He'd surely blame himself. And how will she tell him? Or perhaps he already knows...

"There's another thing." Mr. Valentia announced. "In the letter, my daughter mentioned something about Brahms. She said that my grandson is still alive. I know it's absurd, I mean-How is that possible? It has been 20 years. She told me in the letter that they hid him and, and now he needs me. They need me to take care of him. But how can that be? He died in the fire 2 decades ago. Right?"

"Mr. Valentia, I-" Isabelle tried to reassure him but stopped as her gaze locked on something, or someone rather, behind Mr. Valentia.

Seeing her gaze, Mr. Valentia slowly turned around to see what had captured her attention. There, standing at the entryway is a young, 6-foot male wearing a porcelain mask.

"B-Brahms?" Mr. Valentia hesitantly called.

The two men stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to say or do. Finally, Brahms nodded and decided to speak, "Gramps."