I wrapped my work coat around Gabrielle and ran as fast I could to the sexton house, carrying her in my arms. I kicked the door open and went ahead to the bathroom. I filled the bathtub with hot water and turned up the heating. When the water had cooled down a bit, I carefully undressed her. Her clothes felt rough and dirty compared to her soft, white skin.
I couldn't help noticing how beautiful Gabrielle was. Her hair was white, just as in my dream, but I couldn't understand how it had lost its pigment so fast. I figured it was because of the extreme terror she had experienced when she woke up confined in a coffin. Or maybe it was because of the sickness she suffered from.
I helped Gabrielle get into the bathtub. At first, I was afraid of her reaction. She was in a stupor; however, she relaxed when she felt the pleasantly hot water. She didn't seem to be aware of my presence as I sat beside her on the floor. I didn't want to make her feel embarrassed when she would come back to her senses, so I left the bathroom, closing the door. I brought her some of my clothes, assuming she wouldn't want to wear her burial gown.
I wasn't easily scared, so finding out Gabrielle was buried alive didn't frighten me as much as it had shocked Mario and his gang. They didn't expect to find a living woman inside and it surprised me how they didn't die of fear after they had made that discovery.
I never cherished any superstitions about my job, religion, or life in general. The dead and their physical presence and mental absence didn't scare me. Being buried alive was extraordinary, but possible and it had nothing to do with the dead rising from their graves.
My food supplies were scarce, but I figured Gabrielle wouldn't be picky after spending two days under the ground.
The screechy kitchen door behind my back opened. I turned around and saw her standing in the door frame, wearing my grey sweater that reached to her knees. She was still confused, nevertheless she was aware of her surroundings.
I could see she was hungry: her eyes were constantly looking at the kitchen table and back at me. I told her she could take a seat and eat everything she wanted. Gabrielle hesitated at first, but the hunger took over, and she grabbed a tomato. She greedily ate it while standing, not letting her gaze of me. Gradually, she realised I didn't mean her no harm and sat down on a chair.
For half an hour I watched her eat. She was particularly fond of the bitter orange juice I loved so much myself.
"What happened to me?" she asked, making another sandwich with cheese.
Hearing her voice resonate in the room surprised her. I realised she had been screaming for help all this time, confined under the ground, enclosed by cold earth from all sides. Suddenly, I felt ashamed and guilty for having heard her pleas but not helping her.
"They thought you were dead when they found you. I was at your funeral, too," I said as I forced myself looking her in the eyes.
"You're that caretaker then? What's your name?" she asked curiously.
"Yes, that's me. My name's Nicolas," involuntarily I felt my face turning red as she gazed into my eyes and repeated my name.
"I'm Gabrielle," she told me as if I didn't already know that.
"What's the last thing you remember before they buried you?" I enquired.
"I remember I felt extremely sick. I kissed my father goodnight. He read a book in his study. I went upstairs to my room. I couldn't fall asleep for a long time because of a stomach-ache. Then Santana knocked on my door. She brought me tea. She always did that since my beloved mother left me. She told me it would help me to sleep. I remember its bitter taste. Santana loves bitter tea. No matter how much sugar I added to it, the bitterness would always break through. It didn't make me feel better, but eventually I fell asleep. The next moment I opened my eyes I was in the dark, in a narrow space. My limbs hurt and I was cold. I screamed for help, but no one could hear me. There was not enough air, and I think I passed out a few times. And then I heard thumping and men talking to each other. I was happy beyond belief but when they opened the grave, and I reached out to them they started to scream and ran away."
It was hard for me to hear that. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, and I could barely hide them. Gabrielle didn't seem to fully understand what had happened to her and how lucky she was that the marauders targeted her grave that night, which reminded me that I had to ask her if she was buried with something valuable.
Gabrielle went back to the bathroom and returned shortly after with a white velvet pouch. She showed me a brightly shining necklace, inlaid with precious red and white stones. I couldn't tell what kind of stones those were, but it was clear that they were the reason why Mario dug her out.
"These are rubies and diamonds. The necklace belonged to my mother, but she always said it was mine. I wore it when they buried me. I also have a ring, but it's not my size, that's why father must have put it in the pouch and laid it next to me. I took the necklace off when I woke up. It felt heavy on my chest … You think they were after it?"
I nodded in response.
"Who else except for your father knew you were buried with that necklace?" I asked.
"Only two people knew of the necklace and the ring. I suspect someone, but I have no proof," her lower lip trembled as she said that.
"Don't be sad, you're safe now, those people can't hurt you anymore. Your father will be so glad to hear you're alive! I must inform him carefully, though. He won't believe me; it might shock him too much …"
"No! You can't tell him about me! At least not yet! No one may know I'm alive!"
Gabrielle turned pale. Her sudden, inexplicable fear confused me. I didn't understand why she refused to return to her loved ones.
"The person I suspect of wanting to steal my mother's necklace is Santana. I think she also tried to kill me by poisoning my food!" she whispered as she looked at me with terror in her eyes.
"Who is Santana?" I asked.
"My stepmother. She doesn't love me and wanted to get rid of me as soon as she married my father. It wouldn't surprise me she had a hand in my poor mother's death, too. You see, before she married my father, she was something of a nanny to me."
"And how about your father? He has the right to know you're alive!"
"I don't think my return will cheer him up that much. Santana is all he sees and hears," her pretty eyes turned sad.
It angered me that anyone would hurt Gabrielle. Her calm spirit lit up the room, calmed down the most perturbed mind, and brought peace unto everyone who got near the circle of her inner light. But she couldn't even rely on her own father. How devastating it had to be for Gabrielle to come back from the dead and find out that no one was waiting for her.
"Okay, we won't tell them anything for now. You're tired. Let me bring you to bed."
I took her up in my arms and brought her to my bedroom.
As I laid her down, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and thanked me for taking care of her. I turned red and felt a febrile burning there where she kissed me.
I sat in an old seat by the window, listening to her breathing and unable to take my eyes off her. When Gabrielle was fast asleep, I returned to the graveyard and cleaned up the mess Mario and his companions left. I threw the earth back into the grave and put the two pieces of the tombstone back in their place.