My voice cracked again, and I coughed to clear my throat. “Sorry, I need a drink.”
“I’ll get you one.” Cassius jumped up. We sat in silence until he returned with a bottle of water, which he handed to me.
“Thanks.” I unscrewed the cap and took a large swig. “Okay. Back to it. I’d been accepted to university, and my dad was so excited for me. It was always his dream for me—to get a good education. My mother wasn’t answering his calls, so he drove here to talk to her in person. He was desperate for us to reconcile, and he wanted her to share in his excitement. I don’t know if she ever loved him, but he never stopped loving her. He never looked at another woman, as far as I’m aware.”
I stared down at the floor, not really seeing it, lost in my memories. “He must have arrived back home late at night, after I’d gone to bed. The next morning, I went downstairs, and he was acting weird—all jumpy and shifty. I asked him what was wrong, and he brushed me off. He shut himself in his office for most of that day, and I couldn’t get anything out of him.”
I looked up, to find the Four watching me with rapt attention.
“What happened next?” Weston breathed.
I sighed, my mouth twisting. “He drove up to Alstone a few more times, even staying overnight once or twice, and he spent ages shut in his study or staying late at work in his office there. I didn’t connect any of it until afterwards.”
“Did he ever tell you anything?” The question came from Zayde, who was staring at me, the usual blank, unreadable expression on his face.
“No, and to be honest, I stopped pushing him. I could feel that something was off, but I rationalised it in my head, telling myself that he was researching stuff for work or whatever.” The tears were starting to come in earnest now, and I choked back a sob. If only I’d pushed harder. Maybe I could have changed something. Maybe he’d still be alive.
“Um…sorry. I need a minute.”
“Winter.” Weston slid down off the arm of the sofa, squashing up next to me, and pulled me into his arms. I curled into him, and he stroked my hair, Cass gripping my hand.
I breathed deeply, gathering myself, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of Caiden’s hoodie. “Okay. Let me get the rest of this out. It was the day I left for university. Dad drove me there and I’d waved him off, and I guess he decided to take a detour to Alstone on his way home. He…he sent me a text, when I was just falling asleep. It was the last time I heard from him.”
I swallowed hard, fumbling in my pocket for my phone and handing it to Weston with a shaking hand. The tears obscured my vision, and I buried my face in his chest as he read out the text.
“Winter. Just left your mother. I have something important I need to speak to you about. I’ll call you tomorrow morning and update you. Hope you’re settling in well. Love you.”
“The next day I got a visit from a police officer,” I sobbed, “and-and she said there had been an accident.” The memory that I’d managed to keep buried for the past few months tore through my mind, and I curled myself up into a tight ball, huddling into Weston as I broke apart all over again.
I sat, numb, as the police officer told me that there had been a “catastrophic gas leak,” which had caused my entire home to explode, with my dad inside. The fire service was going to investigate, but it was thought to be a freak accident. I couldn’t care less about the fact the house was gone. Never mind that it had been my home for the past thirteen years and everything from my childhood was blown to smithereens. My dad was gone.
“Miss Huntington? Are you okay? Is there anyone I can call?” The female detective placed a gentle hand on my arm, her soft brown eyes full of concern.
I swallowed hard, darting my tongue out to moisten my dry lips. “N-no. Thank you.”
She remained unconvinced but let out a heavy sigh and rose to her feet. “Here’s my card. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything at all.” She flicked her eyes to the male officer with her, and he gave a tiny nod. As one, they headed towards the door. She paused, turning back to me. “I mean that. Anything at all. We’re here to help.”
“Thanks.” My voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
Then they were gone, and I was alone. I felt the bile rise in my throat, and I stumbled over to my wastepaper basket, retching until my throat was so raw from stomach acid that I was coughing up blood and tears were streaming down my face.
Curling into a ball on my bed, I succumbed to the sorrow that was pulling me under, sobbing until there were no tears left to cry, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
“A few weeks later, after they’d officially ruled that his death was an accident, I received a box, addressed to me. The return address was the university my dad worked at. I opened it to find a note on the top from one of my dad’s colleagues, saying he’d packed up the stuff from his work office, and all his personal effects were in the box. He thought I might like to have them.” My voice broke again as fresh tears streaked down my face, remembering opening the items, carefully packaged in bubble wrap. The first thing I’d unwrapped had been a framed photo of the two of us, taken one summer when I was around ten years old, sitting on the beach eating ice cream. It was his favourite photo of us. There had been other things that had sentimental value to him—his crystal ball with a 3D model of the solar system suspended inside, that I’d given him for Christmas, his favourite heat changing mug, and a bunch of star charts and diagrams of constellations he’d had on his walls.
I cleared my throat, swiping the tears away. “Sorry. Um…underneath the other stuff, there was a manila file, that just said ‘Personal’ on the front. I opened it up, and there was a load of scribbled notes, most of which don’t make any sense to me, some printouts about Alstone Holdings, and a photo of my mother.”
“Do you have the file?” Cassius interrupted before I could continue.
“Not here. It’s in a safe place.”
“What do the notes say?”
“They’re mostly just words or really short sentences and dates. I realised that the first dated note corresponded with that first day my dad went to Alstone and started acting all weird, and all the dates match with the times he went to Alstone. I’ll get the file to show you when I can, but it set off alarm bells, and from what I can make out, he thinks my mother is…planning something that’s quite possibly illegal, and dangerous, and worth a lot of money. And somehow Alstone Holdings is mixed up in it, maybe even behind it.”
“Babe, you need to get that file to us. With our knowledge, we might be able to work it out.” Cassius stared at me, his gaze serious.
“I know, and I will. Thanks, Cass. I’ve been feeling so alone,” I whimpered, my voice hoarse and my throat raw from crying. “I want to get justice for my dad, but I didn’t even know where to start. And then last night I find out that you think I’ve been working with my mother, the person who I believe might have had something to do with his death…”