How Lilies turn Black - Chapter 2

The younger brother of the leader, who’s said to be responsible for all sorts of cruel and violent things in the organization, and a well-known underboss.

His name was Theodoro Domenico Benedetti.

When I met him, I understood everything at once.

The initiation ceremony was a lie….

If they came to kill Wayne, then to kill Lilia, it was because Wayne’s identity had been discovered.

So when had they realized that?

It was ridiculous. Preparing for a joyous dinner party, oblivious to the imminent arrival of the Reaper.

They hadn’t noticed in six years, so I assumed everything was still fine. I had underestimated them.

Lilia’s face contorted in frustration and regret. Looking back on the past might be pointless now.

Click—

Theodoro held his pistol out, loading it. The sting of the pistol’s muzzle blazed in the center of his skin.

He hadn’t said a word of useless chatter until that moment. Just gazing down at her with emotionless stares.

Lilia lowered her gaze silently. The broken vase caught her eye. The white petals of the lilies were soaked in the blood she had spilled.

‘In a few seconds, I’ll be in the same position’, Lilia thought.

She was right. Without hesitation, Theodoro pulled the trigger.

Bang!

And that was the end of it.

Without a second thought, the men stormed out of the house, carrying the gun by the wrist.

Lilia watched the scene and remembered Wayne’s warm hand, which she had held in her coat pocket, sharing the space between them.

The house was silent as their footsteps left. The only music echoing from the turntable was Frank Sinatra’s ‘The World We Knew’.

— Over and over, I keep going over the world we knew.

Through my barely closed eyes, I could see my family’s home, where the blood of the deceased was spilled. Red lilies, trampled by the departed, lay on the ground.

That was the last moment of Lilia’s life.

It was a tragic and futile death, met at the feet of vengeance.

✨

Demercy, East Pearl Apartments, Room 207.

A cramped room with peeling gray paint, the place was musty with mold, and the faded glass windows let in a dull glow even in the pale sunlight.

Beep—

The worn iron bed creaked with every toss and turn, but even worse was the upbeat rock ‘n’ roll blasting from the radio on the nightstand.

Lilia frowned and mumbled in her sleep.

“Turn the… song… off, Wayne.”

I could almost hear it in my head. What kind of dated song was he playing in the morning breeze?

She groaned and buried her head in her pillow.

Still, the song didn’t stop, didn’t even turn down the volume. Not that Wayne would ignore her.

“…Wayne?”

Lilia forced her eyelids open with a strange groan. Suddenly, memories of last night rushed back.

“Huh!”

She jerked up, clutching her chest.

‘What, did I survive? Had I been treated?’

No, that didn’t seem right. There was no sign of bandages on her head or body.

Even stranger, I didn’t feel any pain. In fact, I felt invigorated.

The events of the past night could not have been a dream. The pain, so vivid and clear, couldn’t have been fake.

“…What the hell is going on.”

Lilia muttered, looking around the room, unable to believe what she was seeing.

The old apartment she’d lived in before she’d met Wayne, her second home since moving to Victoria, and the space she’d occupied nearly a decade ago.

‘How am I here? It’s been demolished.’ 

The entire neighborhood was apparently being redeveloped, so she had to find a new place in a pinch.

Lilia threw off the covers and jumped out of bed.

She headed straight down the stairs and out onto the street. She was greeted by a scene that was just like she remembered.

Lot’s Pizza. Smith’s Restaurant and Bar. The East Pearl Avenue grocery store on the corner.

The familiar signs, all of them. But they should have been long gone.

Lilia looked around despondently. Every woman walking around had short hair, and long hair was hard to find.

Everyone, young and old, seemed to be dressed conservatively and neatly. The colors were the same, the designs similar, and I didn’t see a single person wearing the miniskirt that had become so fashionable.

In other words, it was just like the streets I remembered from ten years ago.

“…”

The words trailed off.

The afterimages of cars on the road drifted over her out-of-focus vision. The taxis and buses that sporadically passed by looked like they’d been around forever.

“Liliana, good morning!”

A woman waved from across the street. Liliana stiffly turned her head to face the woman, then froze in thought.

“…Huh!”

Madame Marie from the grocery store.

I still remember the news that she passed away three or four years ago. How could she still be alive and greeting me?

“I can’t believe it.”

The blood drained from her pale face. Lilia staggered backward into the apartment.

“I’m dreaming, that’s exactly why I’m here.”

As she ran up the stairs, she slapped herself several times. But aside from the tingling and stinging on her cheeks, reality remained the same.

Deep down, I knew I wasn’t dreaming. It was obvious. It couldn’t be a dream, not with my senses so clear.

She slumped against the front door, dumbfounded. Her legs felt weak, unable to support her body.

‘What the hell happened…. Did I really come back to the past?’ 

Her trembling gaze fell on the newspaper on the floor.

Despite her unwillingness to accept the truth, Lilia couldn’t resist reaching for the newspaper.

Her throat went dry, and… the large print filled her eyes.

【The Demer Times. November 4, 1961.】

For a moment, I felt dizzy.

“Ah… haha… hah.”

Lilia chuckled to herself.

Was this really possible, that a person could die and come back to the past?

I don’t know. It was ridiculous, but there was no other way to explain the phenomenon. Once again, she searched her body.

So, unless it was all a dream, how could the bullet wound completely disappear?

Somehow, in whatever form the words were in, she had to admit it now.

She was back in 1961.

✨

Lilia sat in the doorway for a while, taking a long time to think things over.

Then, at some point, her heart began to race.

The implications of returning to the past. That means she realized that she could try again to live a life that had ended in failure.

‘Can I really… start everything over?’ 

A shudder ran through her body, and Lilia wasted no time in scrambling to her feet and returning to Room 207. Drunk with grief, she didn’t bother to look around the room.

She picked up the telephone.

‘Let’s just do a quick check.’

Her fingertips turned the familiar dial, and she heard the connection. The anxiety refused to subside.

Beep, Beep—

The longer the monotonous tone continued, the more my heart pounded in contrast. 

Anxiety and anticipation mingled, and Lilia bit her lip hard.

And finally.

— Hello?

Her spurred heart dropped to her feet with a thud.

The voice she’d heard over and over again for so long. It was Angelo’s voice, the voice she’d imagined over and over again for so long and so alone.

— Hello?

“…”

— What the hell, a prank call.

The raspy voice and tone were just like I remembered.

‘You’re alive, you’re alive!’

Relief washed over Lilia like a tidal wave, and she couldn’t get the words out. The irritation of a short-tempered person came over the phone line.

— Hey, do you want to hang up?

Lilia, who was panting from the overwhelming emotion, snapped back to reality.

“Wait. Wait, Angelo… It’s me, Lilia.”

— Sister?

She clutched the receiver tightly. Something inside her felt like it was burning hot.

“…Yes.”

— Why are you calling? Do you want to talk?

There could be no such thing. What kind of reason would she need to call someone she missed?

Lilia managed to get a few words out of her lumpy throat.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”