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She enjoyed her tea and took her time but that didn't matter because it was exactly what both had time.
"He was such a sweet kid but his father, well, he didn't like him and blamed me for his 'spoiled' character but I swear he wasn't spoiled just different. Different from his father if it comes to interests and..."
She nibbled on a biscuit and so did the journalist.
"You don't make any notes?"
"I'm not sure if there's any need to."
"If you write about it can I read it first?"
"I'll send you a copy."
Both women smiled at each other and the person painted as a monster didn't look like a monster to Hella anymore."
"I haven't always been like this. One day everything changed. Something snapped, somewhere inside, deep inside, " she whispered.
The woman on the other side of the table nodded. She knew exactly what she meant. Once too many borders we're crossed the caring was over.
"I woke up, my son, my sweet boy was gone. The basement never was a forbidden area but suddenly it was. He took the key with him. He and his friends... They had fun, made fun of me as they send me away. I had to leave my own house. After their evening was over I could clean up the mess. Their mess... the children could stay... stay as long as he permitted them too. He never told me how or why they came to our house. Foster children he called them, my foster children."
"Where did you go?"
"First I walked around, later I took the bus... Just any bus. Drove up and down from the village to the country. I searched for my boy, hoped to find him. He was such a sweet child, attentive, helpful, and hurt. I was a lousy mother. They are right I am a monster."
Tears welled up in her eyes and both women waited till the moment would come she was ready to continue her story.
"Buttonholes, three buttonholes in a row... He prefers them above manchets if he is at work. They are the same, wear the same shirts and underneath... See what is hidden underneath, have a look at the sign."
"Your husband left you?"
"He likes boys, he always did. That's why. Although he didn't like my son and the little girl... I didn't take her."
She swallowed and cleared her throat, "I didn't take her but he knows who did. I'm sure he does."
Hella hesitated but she couldn't leave before she had asked the question.
"Did they tell you what they found in your basement?"
"They found Jim... Jim, is he still alive? I'm so sorry. It's true I beat him and threw him down there. I panicked."
"Jim is fine. I'm sure your lawyer told you he is. Mrs. Gordon... Your walls are plastered with bodies. It wouldn't surprise me if your son is one of them. If that is the case..."
She couldn't finish her sentence. The elderly woman started screaming and the sound was enough to alarm the guards outside and make them call for assistance. Mrs. Gordon had turned into a completely different personality and was ready to kill.