She walked slowly toward the front door, her stomach beginning to flutter the closer she got. Something seemed off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. The roses were in full-bloom, filling the night with their strong heady scent. It was enough to make her feel slightly dizzy as she reveled in the memory of her first visit to the house. While it had started off nightmarishly, it had ended with such perfection that everything else from that night simply faded away. She smiled at the memory of falling asleep in front of the fire after talking with Tristan for hours. As she reached up and knocked on the front door, it swung open with a sickening ease.

Her heart stopped and tried to climb out of her chest through her throat. The house was completely empty. At first she thought her mind was playing tricks on her, that she was just imagining the total lack of furnishings. She fumbled for the light switch in the hallway, her mind racing as the light reflected harshly off the bare surface of the hardwood floors and blank walls. Her mind seized on tiny details- small scuff marks on the floor where the couch had been shifted, the tiny pair of holes in the wall in front of her where nails had once held up a painting. She was startled by the sound of her own anguished gasp echoing through the desolate interior.

She took a hesitant step forward, quickly scanning the lower level of the house before climbing the stairs. The second floor was as deserted as the first, each step ringing loudly in her ears. The doors were all open on empty rooms, serving as an amplifier for the feeling of abandonment. She found herself standing in the middle of what had been his bedroom, her breath shallow and restrained.

He'd gone again, this time for good it seemed, leaving no trace of himself behind. She hazarded a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out shakily. She choked back a strangled sob, feeling more alone than she had ever been in her life.

From outside she heard the approach of a car and froze. Within seconds there was the sound of a car door slamming shut, then the approaching scuffing of shoes on the front pathway. Emily quickly descended the stairs, reaching the bottom just as the front door swung open.

An unfamiliar man looked startled to see Emily in the house, yet quickly regained his composure.

Joseph: "Can I help you?"
Emily: "I … I don't know."
Joseph: "Are you here to look at the house?"

It dawned on her that the man in front of her might have the answers to the questions burning in her mind.

Emily: "Yes, yes I am."
Joseph: "Ah, you must be Mrs. Wilson. I'm Joseph Saints, from Duat Real Estate; we spoke on the phone yesterday. I wasn't expecting to see you for at least another hour."
Emily: "I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by and take a look around the yard. I was surprised the find the door open- I didn't think it would be a problem to come in."

Joseph: "No, not at all. Did you have a chance to look around? I can give you a guided tour if you'd like- this house has so much to offer!"
Emily: "I did have a chance to see most of it, actually. It is a lovely home. I'm curious- why did the people living here before move out?"
Joseph: "I'm not sure right off the top of my head, but I'd be happy to look it up for you. Truth be told there hasn't been anyone living here for a number of years now."

Emily: "Years?"

She found herself choking on the word, confusion welling up from the recesses of her mind.

Joseph: "That's right. The property's been held up in legal matters for quite some time. It was all in the paperwork we faxed to your husband last week."
Emily: "Of course, I'm sorry. Do you have the name of the seller, by any chance?"
Joseph: "It's being sold by a representative of H&H Holdings."
Emily: "There was a man living here, his name is Tristan Payne. Is he on any of the records you have?"

Emily realized the realtor was beginning to look at her with concern, the sort of look one reserved for the mentally unwell. She was starting to feel that maybe she fully deserved it.

Joseph: "I'm sorry, we don't have any record of that name on our files in association with this property."
Emily: "But he lived here for years! He had a piano over there in that corner, and artwork on all the walls. I was just here to see him not that long ago!"
Joseph: "Mrs. Wilson, I assure you this house has been empty for a very long time."

The man paused, seeming to recollect his composure.

Joseph: "You're obviously upset. Is there someone you'd like me to call to take you home? Your husband perhaps?"
Emily: "He can't be gone… I never had a chance to tell him…"

Emily felt the all-too-familiar folding of the world around her. This time, she didn't put up any fight against the rising pain and confusion, letting it engulf her completely. If this was madness, it was probably easier to just give herself over to it entirely. It was no longer blood pouring from torn veins in her arms, but her sanity flowing out with each beat of her heart.

There was no more reason to fight- everything she'd known and loved was gone, if it had ever existed in the first place. The growing darkness was a comfort, even through the searing pain.