Fables & Other Lies - Claire Contreras Page 0,3

the picture, I would have had to be standing directly in front of the Manor. The only way to get to the Manor was to go to Dolos Island. There were all kinds of myths surrounding just that alone. The tide was high most of the time and the turbulent waters between the two islands meant a likely death. Historians had long deemed it unsafe. Conspiracy theorists labeled it the second Bermuda Triangle. Those of us from Pan Island saw it for what it was though. The Caliban Manor was cursed and anyone who went near it suffered greatly for it. So, the question really should have been, how did a Guzman heiress stand in front of Caliban Manor and take a picture and live to tell about it?

I wasn’t sure. The only thing I knew was that the Caliban Manor had been the very first picture I posted on my website, The Haunt, and now there were Reddit message boards dedicated to deciphering everything I posted. As a side hustle to my side hustle, I took pictures for a real estate company called Old Houses Inc., which was exactly that. A real estate company dedicated to only finding and selling old houses.

“So, will you be partaking in Carnival festivities since you’re here? Or go to the gala?” Martín asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“No.”

“And definitely not going to the gala then?”

“Definitely not.” I felt myself smile. He obviously didn’t understand the feud between the families. Maybe he thought it was a legend, like the curse itself.

“That’s too bad. It’s the only time we can walk to and from the house,” he said, as if that was a huge selling point.

“I know. I just don’t know why anyone would risk being stuck there.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You know what they say about that house.”

“I know, but aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to see what it’s like?”

“No.” It was a lie. I would give up my shiny white EF 800mm lens to walk those halls and see how it really was inside.

“You look like you would.” He eyed my attire. “Dressed in all black like that.”

We both reared forward, then back as the boat was parked and anchored. Martín was still waiting for my response. There were a million things I could say—I always wear all black, like Johnny Cash, like Batman—but I chose to go with the truth, one I hadn’t spoken aloud to anyone at all, so why not say it to a complete stranger?

“I’m here for a funeral. Or do you suppose I should wear a celebratory color to honor my own father’s death?”

Chapter Two

“The Devil is laughing tonight, but he laughs alone,” Don Jose said during his eulogy. “We will not succumb to his greed or be tarnished by his wrongdoings. Maximo Guzman was a good man, a great man. Gia Guzman is a great woman and needs our help and prayers now more than ever. May we lift her up in the light so that she will come back to us.” He bowed out and walked back to his seat at the front of the church. Both women and men muttered their prayers in agreement and wiped their faces.

I stood in the back of the room, with my head bowed, thinking about how much I hated funerals. I hated the condolences that came with the side hugs, shoulder pats, and the eulogies that spoke of everyone being so perfect, when most people sitting in the room knew otherwise. We were all fallible. We were never all good, despite how much we tried to be, or all bad, despite what others said about us. I wished this entire thing wasn’t so hypocritical. Maximo Guzman was a good, great man. Sure, he’d turned his back on his own daughter when she was just a kid. No one had anything to say about that? No one cared about the fact that I’d had to couch surf and pay my own way through photography school all the while my parents were sitting in their golden mansion surrounded by yes-people and praying to false prophets? It angered me to think about, so I tried to push it away, but it was no use, the anger simmered. Instead of walking toward the open casket, I walked outside, shutting my coat tightly around myself as I pushed through the cold breeze.

“Hey.” My best friend Dee’s voice made me glance up. She flicked her cigarette away and blew out smoke.