Chapter 18 : Unexpected Visitor

The shared moments between Leonardo and Angela began to dissolve, swept away by the intrusion that signaled the return to their respective realities. Angela swiftly disentangled her hands from Leonardo's grasp, a mix of frustration and determination etched upon her face. "I suppose I should answer the door. Miss Chavez has returned," she stated firmly, her voice resolute.
Yet, Leonardo's insistence took on a harsh and almost frantic tone. "Don't open the door," he commanded, his words laced with an unsettling intensity that sent a shiver down Angela's spine.
A surge of objection welled up within her. "What do you mean? Am I supposed to jeopardize my job?" she retorted, her voice a blend of defiance and concern.
Leonardo's response was chilling as he asserted, "She's not your employer. She can't fire you, but I can."
Angela's eyes widened in disbelief, frustration intertwining with the shock of Leonardo's words. Meanwhile, Lara's angry voice reverberated through the door, growing more agitated with each passing moment.
"Open the door, Angela," Lara's voice rang out, filled with anger and desperation. "Leonardo, let her open the door!"
As the commotion escalated, Leonardo stood firm, preventing Angela from turning the handle while Lara's fury intensified outside. The door rattled under Lara's pounding, her threats echoing through the room.
"No! I'll get in no matter what you do. Let that wretched woman out!" Lara's voice dripped with venom, fueled by jealousy and rage. Angela couldn't bear the sound of Lara's screams any longer. She snapped a dampened cloth on the table, unlocking the door against her better judgment.
Lara's anger shifted to astonishment as the door swung open unexpectedly, revealing Angela and Leonardo alone in the room. "What are you doing here?" Lara asked, her voice tinged with surprise, her gaze fixated on their painted hands.
Unperturbed, Leonardo responded with a touch of pride, "Can't you see? We were engaged in hand painting."
A flicker of realization danced across Lara's face. "I must have painted with my own hands, collaborating with you, Leonardo. I am your fiancée."
"Lara, now that you're here, take me home and clean my hands," Leonardo requested, his voice detached and weary. "Angela, please take care of our painting."
Lara and Leonardo departed, leaving Angela alone in the studio. As they exited, a wave of joy washed over Angela as she gazed at the hand-painted canvas, a testament to the intimate connection she had shared with Leonardo. The beauty of their creation resonated within her, bringing a sense of fulfillment that surpassed the chaos and turmoil of the moment.

****
As Angela sat on the swing, her gaze fixed on the twinkling stars above, a sense of delight washed over her. It was eight o'clock in the evening, and the tranquility of the night enveloped her as if she were the sole soul awake in the world. Her thoughts drifted back to the events of the day, particularly the hidden painting on the 7th ceiling board in Leonardo's studio and Lara's intense reaction upon discovering it.
Who was the mysterious figure depicted in the painting? The crying lady stirred Angela's curiosity, beckoning her to unravel the secrets concealed within the strokes of the brush. And yet, despite the intrigue, it was the act of hand-painting with Leonardo that brought her immense joy. The memories of their collaboration, their intertwined creativity, resonated within her, filling her with newfound happiness.
The mere thought of Leonardo's desire to hear her utter his name, Leo, stirred unexpected emotions within Angela. The word itself held certain loveliness, rolling off her tongue with tender familiarity. "Leonardo," she whispered, a smile gracing her lips. And yet, mingling with her elation, she couldn't ignore the simmering jealousy that emanated from Lara. It was evident in her reactions, her obvious irritation towards her. However, Angela remained unfazed by it all. Everything had changed, and she sensed a newfound confidence within herself.
As she continued to sway gently on the swing, under the watchful gaze of the stars, Angela embraced the shifting dynamics of her world. The mysteries yet to be unraveled, the emotions stirred by Leonardo's presence, and the undeniable tension with Lara all intertwined in a complex tapestry. And amidst it all, Angela felt a sense of empowerment, a conviction that she had become an integral part of a story that was far from reaching its final chapter.
Angela stood up and took one last look at the city lights far below, their flickering glow offering a sense of comfort amidst the encroaching darkness. But as her gaze shifted towards the distant orchards, a chill crept up her spine. A white figure moved surreptitiously through the rows of twisted trees, its ethereal form seeming to glide on the mist-laden air.
"She's here again," Angela whispered her voice barely audible in the ominous silence. With a surge of determination, she dashed through the orchard, her footsteps muffled by fallen leaves and the weight of anticipation. Each step brought her closer to the enigmatic presence that haunted her nights, yet the question of its identity remained unanswered.
"Who are you?" Angela called out, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity. The words hung heavy in the air, but no response came forth. The night seemed to close in around her, the temperature dropping rapidly beneath the gnarled branches of the fruit trees. Goosebumps rose on her exposed skin as the frigid wind whispered its icy breath against her.
"Miss, who are you calling?" a voice broke the stillness, startling Angela. She turned to find the gardener standing behind her, his weathered face etched with concern. He had emerged silently, like a specter materializing from the darkness.
"Oh, I thought you weren't here," Angela stammered, her heart still racing. The presence of another human brought a semblance of comfort amidst the eerie atmosphere. "She’s here again... the white lady, moving through the orchards."
The gardener's expression remained impassive as he explained, "I have some work to finish in the shed, and I was on my way out when I heard you. But I didn't see anyone, Miss."
Confusion clouded Angela's face. "But... she was there. I glimpsed the hemline of her white gown. She vanished before my eyes." Suspicion tinged her words. "You've always been here when she appears. How could you not notice her?"
The gardener's shrug held a hint of resignation as he began making his way toward the path leading to the gate. "I'm telling you the truth, Miss. I didn't see any white lady. Sometimes, things are not as they seem." He said as he moved to the back gate, “Good night, Miss Brinson.”
A sudden gust of wind sent a shiver through Angela as if the night itself conspired to chill her to the bone. She rushed back towards the mansion, the grand structure now looming ominously in the dim moonlight. Her footsteps echoed hollowly in the corridors as she reached her room, gasping for breath.
The image of the elusive white lady continued to haunt Angela's mind, invading her dreams with a ghostly persistence. In her slumber, she found herself standing on the forbidden veranda at the back of the mansion, the faceless woman's presence palpable. The air turned frigid, as if the veil between the living and the dead had grown thin, and Angela's fear mingled with unsettling anticipation.
Angela's eyes flew open at the stroke of seven a.m., and her startled scream escaped her lips before she could control it. As the echo of her cry faded, her gaze fell upon the unexpected sight of Leonardo seated on the couch beside her bed, a serene expression gracing his face.
"You have nightmares?" Leonardo's voice broke the silence, his tone gentle and inquisitive.
Angela's heart raced as confusion mingled with surprise. "What brings you here, sir?" she managed to utter, her voice quivering with a mixture of astonishment and unease.
A faint smile curved Leonardo's lips. "You forgot something," he replied cryptically, his words hanging in the air, pregnant with hidden meaning.
"Why are you here, Leonardo?" Angela's voice trembled as she instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around her, seeking solace and a shield of protection. "This would be my private domain as long as I stayed in this room."
Leonardo remained seated, his posture relaxed yet enigmatic. "I was hungry, and you appeared to have forgotten your morning task, Angela," he explained calmly, his voice cutting through the air with eerie clarity.
Regaining her composure, Angela's voice took on a tinge of defiance. "I'm sorry, but I slept late last night. Please allow me ten minutes to prepare your food."
However, Leonardo made no move to leave the room. He sat there, a silent presence that unnerved Angela. She felt a wave of vulnerability wash over her as she realized she was dressed in a see-through white nightgown, momentarily forgetting that Leonardo was blind.
"Leonardo, your presence is embarrassing," Angela finally managed to speak up, her voice tinged with a mixture of discomfort and frustration.
A soft smile played upon Leonardo's lips, though Angela couldn't see it. " I can't see you naked, Angela," he reassured her, his words simultaneously soothing and unsettling.
"Even so, Leonardo, you should leave because your presence is intrusive," Angela insisted, her voice laced with a hint of exasperation.
"Okay, but I'm blind," Leonardo replied, his smile evident in his tone. "Would you please..."
Angela cut him off, her patience wearing thin. "You managed to get in here by yourself; there's no reason you can't find your way out," she retorted, her irritation palpable.
Leonardo's shoulders slumped slightly, and he mumbled in acknowledgment. With slow, careful steps, he began to make his way towards the door. However, his progress was halted as he unexpectedly bumped into the wall, emitting a pained "Ouch!"
"See, I still need your assistance, Angela," Leonardo lamented, his voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and playfulness.
Angela sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement filling the air. "One step to the right, Leonardo," she directed, her head shaking in disbelief at the unfolding game between them.
"Thank you," Leonardo expressed his gratitude as he followed Angela's guidance, gradually maneuvering himself out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the lingering enigma of his unexpected presence.