Behind Those Doors

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Her black leather ankle boots touched the pavement of old Parisian stone street. She got off the rented car and swirled her black & ivory scarf tighter as the cool October wind blew. She took a pause and stared at the building in front of her. The front gate was tall, big, heavily decorated Hausmann style. An old borgouise Parisian gate, showing an inevitable impression of money, power and exclusivity. Today, however, it was let wide open.

Her eyes pinched a bit to prevent the sunrays that got in her sight. Probably the last sunrays before the gloomy November comes. “Do I really want to step inside?”, she asked to her self. She sucked in the fresh cold air, her lungs jumped a little bit. She forgot how freezing cold fall season can be. She closed her eyes and decided to just walk and knock the front door.

No one probably heard, but she hesitated to ring the bell. Suddenly someone tapped her shoulder from the back, “Madame, are you coming with invitation?”. She turned and looked at the person behind her, “It’s me, Uncle Philippe. Long time no see, how are you?”. He was shocked to see his niece after 11 years and quickly wrapped her with a hug and kiss my cheeks. He teared up a little bit and told me no one uses the front door anymore, no one knows where the key is nor cares to make a new one.

The front door let people step into the voyeur and there’s another door to the library and salon. This door too, remain closed since many years ago explained Uncle Philippe as they walked through the small garden gate to reach the back door.

That was a big family gathering. She was about to see people she haven’t seen in the last decade or more. Her grandfather passed away three months ago and no one knew whether he left a testimony or didn’t, no lawyers had come to announce them one.

She knew where the key to the front door was and also the key of the door from the voyeur. She even knew where the testimony was.

She didn’t say a thing though — just yet. She wasn’t fond to see behind the doors.

Her grandfather wanted to give away his lavish house for the poor. He wanted his children and grandchildren to sell the house and give the entire money for an educational institution in a far away and unprivileged small islands in South East Asia.

He picked her friend as his lawyer, yet he wanted her to speak on his behalf.

His testimony was very generous and altruistic. She just didn’t think the rest of her family think so. She went aboard many years ago, abandoning her trust fund in the search of her own self without her family’s big name and wealth, leaving a history of her childhood and teen years in the City of Light behind. Light didn’t fit her at that time.

Wealth and power was always a problem in her family. Possession and status are two funny stuff she never try to understand.

Unlocking the door of that house will release the drama that happened in the voyeur 12 years ago. Behind those doors she lost her parents. Greediness, proud and gun were involved.

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