Chapter 25 : Lady, who are you?

Leonardo and Angela entered the room in silence, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. Leonardo made his way to the dresser and settled himself by the closed window.
"Would you mind opening the window for me? I need to breathe in some fresh air," Leonardo requested, his voice tinged with weariness.
Angela complied without uttering a word, understanding the solace that the gentle caress of a breeze could bring. As she carried out Leonardo's instructions, she intended to complete her tasks and take her leave. However, Leonardo had other plans.
"Stay for a while, Angela," Leonardo commanded, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Angela, aware of the arrival of Leonardo's girlfriend, reminded him, "Your girlfriend is here, sir."
"You won't be able to leave if you insist on addressing me in that manner, again," Leonardo grumbled, his frustration apparent. "I would like you to do something for me."
Curiosity piqued, Angela inquired, "What is it, Leonardo?"
"I want you to go through Esmeralda's belongings in the pink room," Leonardo's voice held a firmness that conveyed the urgency of his request. "Search for anything that might provide a link to her death."
Leonardo's eyes carried a burden, a depth of sorrow that Angela could sense. He revealed to her that after Esmeralda's tragic demise, the pink room had remained locked and untouched. All of Esmeralda's belongings had remained undisturbed since that fateful incident.
A heavy sigh escaped Leonardo's lips. "And I want to understand what she was doing or thinking before she took that fatal leap from the veranda," his voice filled with a mix of eagerness and desperation. "Leave no stone unturned, Angela. I need answers."
Angela absorbed the weight of Leonardo's words, realizing the significance of this task. She nodded in understanding, prepared to delve into Esmeralda's world and unearth the secrets that lay hidden within her belongings.
Angela's steps grew heavy as she made her way back to the pink room, carrying the weight of what she had discovered. She could sense the immense burden weighing on Leonardo's heart, his pain almost palpable. As she entered the room, her gaze fell upon the once cheerful bed that had belonged to Esmeralda. With a somber expression, Angela carefully covered it with fresh white linen. She was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to find solace in sleep, she stood up and walked to the window.
The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a mesmerizing glow on the orchard trees of Vera's mansion. It painted a silver mist over the flowers in the garden, while the city lights below sparkled like a swarm of bright pearl beads. The cold wind whispered through the room, entering through the open window, where Angela stood motionless, peering down.
"Esmeralda," Angela whispered her voice barely audible. She hadn't anticipated finding herself in the deceased girl's room, but now that she was there, an inexplicable excitement coursed through her. The memory of Lara's terrified expression when confronted with the pink room still puzzled her. Sleep seemed impossible, and the silence of the night felt unsettling.
After a few moments of contemplation, Angela decided to close the window. However, as she moved to do so, her eyes caught movements amidst the orchard, and a fleeting white figure flashed beneath the trees. "The lady in white," she murmured, a surge of exhilaration pulsing through her veins. Her instincts told her that she wasn't dreaming or imagining things. She felt compelled to prove the existence of the lady in white to those around her.
Driven by determination, Angela propelled herself out of the room and descended into the orchard. She was certain of what she had seen and felt. The night air buzzed with anticipation as she ventured into the depths of the orchard, eager to demonstrate the truth of the mysterious apparition to those who doubted.
But once again, the orchard remained empty, devoid of any presence. The night air was filled with the melodic chirping of crickets, intensifying the eeriness of the surroundings. Angela's skin grew colder, and a shiver ran down her spine, accompanied by an unsettling sense of dread. She lifted her gaze to the illuminated windows of the main house, her eyes drawn to the source of the light. It was the pink room, radiating a bright glow that contrasted starkly with the darkness of the night.
Turning her attention back to the orchard, Angela hoped to catch another glimpse of the lady in white, but she was nowhere to be seen. Frustration washed over her, mingling with her fascination and desire to unravel the mystery that enveloped Esmeralda's presence.
"Lady, who are you?" Angela whispered into the dimly lit night. "And what do you want from me?" She pondered the situation, her mind racing with questions and possibilities. Suddenly, her ears detected a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Initially mistaken for a gentle breeze, it soon became clear that it was a stifled sob, a controlled and muffled crying. The sound emanated from the forbidden veranda, causing Angela to take a hesitant step back, her heart pounding in her chest.
The wind whispered coldly against her skin as if urging her to flee, yet the plaintive cries grew louder and more distinct. And then, in that chilling moment, Angela recognized the voice.
As Angela approached the forbidden veranda, her heart pounded in her chest, both from the fear of the unknown and the anticipation of discovering the truth. The sound of her footsteps seemed to echo through the night as she called out to the figure hidden in the darkness.
"Mrs. Vera?" Angela's voice quivered in the dim light. "Is that you? What exactly are you doing there?"
A moment of silence hung in the air before Mrs. Vera's voice, tinged with sadness, replied, "Angela? Come over here." She was wearing a white nightgown.
Reluctantly, Angela moved closer to the open, broken gate, her eyes fixed on Mrs. Vera, who stood upon the veranda railings. Shadows danced across her face, obscuring her features, but her presence was undeniable. Angela's curiosity mingled with concern as she addressed her employer in a hushed tone.
"Mrs. Vera," Angela began, her voice filled with sincerity, "why are you here? What is happening?"
Mrs. Vera continued to cry, her sobs punctuating the stillness of the night. She wiped her tear-stained face, attempting to regain composure. "Why are you here, Angela?" she finally managed to ask, her voice choked with emotion.
Angela's gaze softened, her empathy for Mrs. Vera growing. "I saw a figure moving beneath the orchard, and I wanted to find out who it was. I didn't expect to find you here," she explained gently, her voice laced with understanding.
Tears welled up in Mrs. Vera's eyes, glistening like diamonds in the dim light. Regret etched deep lines on her face, eternally etching her guilt for the world to see. The room seemed to shrink around them, the walls closing in, trapping them in this suffocating moment of truth.
"I failed Esmeralda," Mrs. Vera choked out, her voice trembling with remorse. "My opposition to her love, my misguided actions... I pushed her towards a path she never deserved. I encouraged Leo to engage with Lara, unknowingly setting in motion a tragic chain of events." Her words hung heavy, saturating the atmosphere with an unbearable heaviness.
Angela listened attentively to Mrs. Vera's words, her heart aching for the pain and guilt her employer had carried for so long. She understood the weight of responsibility that Mrs. Vera felt, but she also recognized the complexities of the situation.
"I understand that you blame yourself, Mrs. Vera," Angela said softly, her voice filled with compassion. "But it's important to remember that no single person is solely responsible for another's actions. While your decisions may have influenced the course of events, there were undoubtedly other factors at play as well."
She paused for a moment, reflecting on the pain caused by dishonesty and betrayal. "Hurt, dishonesty, and betrayal can lead someone to make choices that seem unbearable, but it's never solely the fault of one person. Sometimes, the weight of the world becomes too much for someone to bear, and they feel there is no other way out."
Angela's gaze met Mrs. Vera's, conveying her empathy and understanding. "We must acknowledge the mistakes made, but we also need to find forgiveness and healing for ourselves. Blaming ourselves endlessly will not bring Esmeralda back nor ease our pain. We can only learn from the past and strive to create a better future."
Mrs. Vera nodded slowly, her tears subsiding. She reached out and gently grasped Angela's hand, appreciating the support and understanding offered. "Thank you, Angela," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "You have shown me compassion and reminded me that healing is possible."
Together, they stood on the veranda, finding solace in each other's presence and a shared understanding of the complexities of life and loss. At that moment, Angela knew that uncovering the truth about Esmeralda's death would not only bring closure but also pave the way for healing and reconciliation among those affected by the tragic events of the past.
Angela successfully managed to convince Mrs. Vera to retreat to her room and carefully tucked her into bed.
"I appreciate you lending an ear to my unexpected confession, Angela. It brought me some semblance of tranquility," Mrs. Vera expressed with gratitude.
"It's no trouble at all, Mrs. Vera. You can confide in me with your troubles and emotional burdens; I'm here to provide support," Angela replied in a soothing tone.
After dedicating an hour to patiently listening to Mrs. Vera, Angela returned to her room, feeling a sense of lightness in her heart. She felt a profound relief witnessing Mrs. Vera acknowledge her wrongdoing and display a willingness to seek forgiveness from Esmeralda.
Fatigued, Angela found herself back in the serene pink room. Glancing out the window one final time, she scanned the orchards for any signs of suspicious activity. To her relief, she noticed no unsettling movements. At last, Angela concluded that Mrs. Vera was indeed the mysterious lady in white she had previously observed among the orchard's shadows. She let out a sigh, closed the window silently, took a refreshing shower, and retired to bed. Esmeralda's bed provided her with a comfortable haven, ensuring a peaceful night's rest.