Chapter 32 : The Diary

Angela sat alone on the swing, oblivious to the biting cold of the night. Her attention was consumed by something far more pressing as she gazed at the flickering city lights below. Scenes tumbled through her mind, each one a fragment of a painful memory she longed to wash away, especially the events at the restaurant.
The war of words between Leonardo and Lara had become a silent battle for Angela's loyalty. Leonardo's cutting remarks about Lara and Lara's relentless sarcasm about Angela had created an unbearable tension. However, the most haunting statement from Leonardo that night lingered in Angela's thoughts: "Find Esmeralda's killer." It was not a mere request but a command, conveyed through Leonardo's somber expression, revealing his desperate desire for the truth.
But Angela found herself trapped in the darkest corners of uncertainty, grappling with how to unveil the truth behind Esmeralda's untimely demise. She knew exactly where her investigation should begin: the pink room. Leonardo was right; she needed to turn Esmeralda's world upside down. Casting her gaze towards the illuminated window of the pink room, a sense of foreboding enveloped her. If only the walls could speak and reveal the secrets of that room and the adjacent veranda, her task would be so much simpler. Her attention shifted to the orchards, where the veranda awaited. A shiver ran down her spine as she contemplated delving into the murky depths of the past.
"Angela, you look far too comfortable on that swing," slurred Lara's voice, abruptly interrupting Angela's deep contemplation. She stumbled towards Angela, clutching a bottle of wine, her steps unsteady. "You're nothing but a thief, stealing boyfriends," she slurred once again, struggling to hold onto the swing's bar.
Angela took a deep breath, determined not to let Lara's drunken outbursts get under her skin. "You're intoxicated, Miss Chavez," she replied solemnly, her voice steady. "It's time for you to go to bed."
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, acting all high and mighty," Lara barked, her words slurred. "You're nothing but a deceitful woman."
Angela couldn't resist the urge to respond, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, the irony. Coming from the person who betrayed Leonardo with Fredrick," she retorted. "You dare to act like a trustworthy girlfriend? Think about it, Lara. Who's the real snake between us?"
"Shut up!" Lara hissed, her face contorted with anger.
"No, you shut up first," Angela snapped grimly. She made a move to walk away, intending to head back to the house, but Lara grabbed her arm, causing Angela to turn around and lose her balance, resulting in Lara stumbling to the ground. "Let go of me," Angela demanded.
"We're not finished yet," Lara slurred, attempting to prevent Angela from leaving. "Quit your job and leave us alone."
"There's no point in talking to you, Miss Chavez," Angela replied, stepping back. She knew any further conversation with Lara would only lead to more heated exchanges. She didn't want to disturb anyone in the house, but she had a task to fulfill, as per Leonardo's request. "I cannot and will not do that."
A sudden change came over Lara as she spoke with a newfound determination. "I want the pink room back," she stated, her voice now resolute. "Take back your room."
Angela regarded Lara with a mix of surprise and skepticism. The request caught her off guard. "Are you sure about that?" she asked, searching Lara's face for any signs of insincerity
Angela's voice remained steady as she replied, "The pink room is now mine. I won't be leaving."
Lara stormed off, disappearing into the house. Angela waited on the swing, aware that a confrontation was unfolding inside the mansion. She counted the minutes until the sound of doors slamming reached her ears. It was clear that Leonardo hadn't given in to Lara's demands.
Mrs. Gale emerged from the house and joined Angela, a knowing expression on her face. "A war has erupted once again within these walls," she said.
Angela sighed, her frustration evident. "I know. She wanted to take over the pink room."
Mrs. Gale's words piqued Angela's curiosity. They revealed a deep-seated disdain for Lara's behavior. "She was always rude and irritating, and she despised Esmeralda's presence in the mansion," Angela remarked. Then, her voice took on a darker tone. "It should have been the wicked that perished that day."
Confusion flickered across Angela's face as she observed Mrs. Gale's expression. "What do you mean, Mrs. Gale?" she asked, sensing an air of secrecy in the old woman's tone.
Mrs. Gale's face grew heavy with sorrow as she stared out at the blinking city lights below. Even in the darkness of the night, her emotions were palpable. She whispered something to Angela, her voice laden with distress. "Esmeralda was the princess of this house before that wretched woman came into the picture," she revealed.
Realization dawned upon Angela, her eyes widening. "You were the one who discovered Esmeralda's body on the cliff below the veranda, weren't you?" she inquired, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.
…..


"Yes," Mrs. Gale said, "It was the most gruesome and depressing day of my life." Mrs. Gale murmured. The old woman’s face became pale and troubled. She cried and trembled, "Esmeralda was gay the night before, and in the morning things were different. She became restless and agitated, and I knew then that she was troubled by something painful for her to admit. And when I asked her what bothered her, she’d just cry and cry, and during lunch, she was gone. We all went to find her and combed the whole house but failed to see her." She took a deep breath. "In the afternoon, I decided to climb up the studio’s rooftop, and from there, I saw Esmeralda’s body lying on the ground below like a doll." She cried hard and then got angry. "It should be Lara." She gritted. "She must be lying down there. That wicked woman should be the one who died that day."
Angela could sense Mrs. Gale's anguish at the time. She adored Esmeralda and sympathized with her plight at the hands of the man she adored the most.
The night was silent as Angela passed Lara’s room, it was freezing. And as she went through the lobby going to her room, she heard a faint cry coming from afar and halted, and turned around to look where the sound possibly came from, but she heard nothing but the silence of the night. She came back to Lara’s room and leaned on the door ears in the wall. She suspected that Lara might be the one crying, but she heard nothing from the inside and decided to go to bed.
Angela stirred awake as the frantic knocking on the door penetrated her sleep. With a groggy mind, she sat up, her senses sharpening as Lara's presence filled the room. As the door swung open, Lara barged in, her gaze darting around before fixating on a drawer containing Esmeralda's collection of hair clips. Without hesitation, Lara reached inside and selected one for herself.
"Return that," Angela demanded firmly, her voice laced with authority as she sat at the edge of the bed.
Lara's lips curved into a cunning smile as she held the clip, challenging Angela's demand. "And who are you to tell me what to do with this?" she taunted. "This doesn't belong to you."
Angela's eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "All of Esmeralda's belongings in this room have been given to me by Leonardo since last night," she stated flatly. "If you have any doubts or questions, I suggest you take it up with him. Now, I want to be alone. Leave this room immediately."
Lara's face twisted with anger, her voice dripping with venom. "You'll pay for this, you bitch. I won't forget the humiliation I've endured," she exclaimed before storming out of the room in a fit of rage.
Angela cautiously pushed open the door to Leonardo's room, carrying a tray with steaming coffee and pancakes. Leonardo, freshly dressed in new house clothes, sat at the edge of the bed.
"I overheard your argument with Lara this morning. What happened?" she asked, placing the tray on a nearby table.
"She wanted to take some of Esmeralda's hair clips," Angela sighed, pouring the coffee. "She insisted on remaining in the room. She no longer seems terrified of it. It's as if she wants to relive Esmeralda."
Lara entered the room, holding a cup of coffee. "Here's your... coffee, Leonardo."
"I already have a hot cup of coffee, Lara. Please return it to the kitchen," Leonardo replied calmly.
"What will it take for you to be mine again, Leonardo?" Lara seethed with anger.
"Perhaps you should go home and return when I regain my sight, Lara," Leonardo stated frankly. "That would be the best course of action for us at the moment." He sighed. "I can't turn back time. And right now, I wish to be alone with my nurse."
Lara's eyes widened with rage, a reaction only Angela witnessed. Without uttering a word, Lara dashed towards the door, flung it open, and slammed it shut in Angela's face.
Silence filled the room, and Angela refrained from initiating a conversation, annoyed by Lara's actions. But she couldn't resist breaking the silence. "I think we've pushed her to the edge," she remarked.
"I don't believe so. I've grown accustomed to her tantrums most of the time," Leonardo sighed. "But right now, she isn't important."
Angela gazed at Leonardo, attempting to decipher the significance of his current state of mind. Before long, it became apparent.
"I want you to find Esmeralda's diary," Leonardo said, his tone tinged with both sadness and eagerness.
"Esmeralda had a diary?" Angela frowned, taken aback by this new piece of information. She understood the potential power a diary held in uncovering the past.