Silver and Shroud

-2-

I promised myself I would not vomit as I climbed to my feet, eyes locked dangerously on the lifeless face of Mr. Gold. My limbs shook, knees bumping together, but I made it up without a fall, and immediately sped off back through the garden.

          I found Ezra first, lounging in the exact place I left him. He dipped his head back over the chair.
"That was a quick w—" His eyes widened. "Clara, you're covered in—!"
No point in sugar-coating it, I choked out, "Ezra, there's a body in the garden."
His mouth gaped open and he put down the liquor, swiftly rising to his feet to head down the walkway in disbelief. "There isn't!"

          I blocked the entrance and clutched his arms, pleading with him to tell someone for me. "You can't go down there. Ezra, please, I don't know what to do about this."
"Let me take a look at it." He sidestepped around me.
"No! You have to tell father."
"You tell him! I want to look."
"Please, I don't know what to—" He left for the shadows, leaving me blood-soaked and alone. "—do."

          My shoulders slumped. Ezra was non-judgemental of me, but those inside...

           I shook off the fear with a lonely shiver. I may have looked like a madwoman, but that was what I would have become if I ignored this. They had to know. Not to mention Mr. Gold's family...

          I recalled they were not in attendance tonight. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise for his wife and children.

          With a quivering lip, I sped up towards the patio doors.

          It was needless to say there were a few shocked faces as I stormed in. Heather had spent her few hours of free time in the kitchen, conversing with the staff there, and had caught me rushing in, becoming a shadow that followed me into the parlour with all her frantic questions left unanswered.

          The party-guests' reactions were far more dramatic than the kitchen servants. They gasped, swore, pointed and screamed. Mother almost fainted. But I only looked for one person.

          Father shoved through the crowd.

          "Clara, dear." His voice was soft, calm with reassurance as he took my face in his hands, a concerned stare landing on the swipe of blood that caught my jaw. "What happened?"
"There's—" My windpipe narrowed. "I found—"
"Oh for god's sake, girl, spit it out," Ethel hissed.
"Mother!" Sebastian snapped. "Everyone, back off. Give her some space."

          Father studied me for an answer, but nothing was coherent. My eyes pricked with tears, every inch of me shaking beneath his steady hold.

          "Clara," he said, gentle yet stern. "Tell me what you saw."
I held onto his hand to calm my own, a lump in my throat weighing me down. "Mr. Gold."