A few moments later, they arrived at their destination: Castel Manor, a huge, gloomy building. It was 4 floors high.
“Let’s go in. I’ll check the 3rd and 4th floors while you check the 1st and 2nd floors. At 12 o clock we’ll meet up,” Tom said.
“It’s a plan!” Rachel said as they blended into, the crowd.
Tom entered the now blood-stained bedroom of Mrs. Castel. The room is dimly lit, with heavy curtains drawn tightly across the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the worn, wooden floor. A single, flickering lamp on an antique desk provides the only source of illumination, revealing a room frozen in time.
The air is thick with the musty scent of old books and ancient secrets. The room is cloaked in an unsettling ambiance, the air thick with tension and the metallic scent of dried blood.
In the center of the room, ominous bloodstains form an unsettling pattern, a grim testimony to a violent event that unfolded here.
A large wooden desk in the corner of her bedroom catches Tom’s attention. Piles of yellowing papers are scattered across its surface, and a half-empty inkwell sits next to a quill, frozen in mid-stroke.
A book is set next to this. A magnifying glass is perched precariously on a stack of crumbling manuscripts.
Tom opens the letters and sees that they all are to one person. Someone called ‘Dear Alicia Moncrieff’. But they all are half-written.
“I am so sorry. I did not mean to do this. But now I am too late. I too-” Ended one.
“Please forgive me. I never meant to cause you this much pain. I- ” Ended another.
“Tom? I have been waiting down for ages” Rachel’s voice interrupts.
“Huh! It’s already ten? Sorry, but I think I’m onto something. Did you find anything?” He asked.
“Unfortunately, no. What’s up?” Rachel asked.
“I found all these mysterious letters. They all end soon and they talk about how sorry Mrs. Castel is. They are addressed to someone called Alicia Moncrieff,” Tom said, passing on the letters to Rachel.
“ Have you heard the name anywhere”
“Wait a minute. I think I heard that name somewhere, but I don’t remember,” She said.
“I wish I could find more,” Tom said, crushing a paper and throwing it into the bin.
“That’s it. She might have thrown it into the bin!” Rachel said.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked.
“Mrs. Castel keeps on saying that it is too late now, so she might have thrown the full letters she wrote because now she has no way to give them to whoever ALICIA MONCRIEFF is,” Rachel replied.
As they rummaged through the bin, their search seemed to be in vain. All they could find were crumpled papers strewn about. Just as they were about to give up, Tom’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something hidden in the very corner. Without a moment’s hesitation, he reached in and pulled out a cluster of three letters tightly crushed together, as though intentionally concealed.
“I think I found it,” He said. The letter read:
Dear Alicia Moncrieff,
I know that it is too late now. I am thoroughly regretting everything I said about you. But please FORGIVE ME. I was a young and careless child, I have done many things that I now regret. I never thought that you would go as far as that. Please forgive me for everything. I can see how much your husband and son are struggling and I know that it is mainly because of me. I was the reason for your suicide. Forgive me, please.
-Helena Castel
