A middle-aged man — who resembles Robert De Niro — and two women dressed in maids outfits bow upon our entry.
I nod back awkwardly. It’s so weird to have people bow like we’re royalty. Though, from what I’ve learnt about Steel Corporation, Dad might as well be considered nobility in Birmingham.
He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by the staff. He acknowledges them and moves along.
I’m like a lost orphan walking by his side. With my semi-wet clothes and dishevelled hair, I also look the part.
Dad and I stride into the enormous lounge area with its vaulted, golden ceilings and dazzling light. Two large lion statues decorate the sweeping marble stairs. Two tall Chinese warriors paintings stand on either side of the stairs in perfect symmetry.
Now I know where my love for old Chinese war books and philosophers comes from.
Several French windows are strategically lined throughout the lounge area, allowing a peek into the garden.
It’s exactly like in my vision.
Maybe this is a vision, too. Maybe I’m hallucinating, and my father isn’t alive.
That thought brings a bitter, sticky taste to the back of my throat. I squeeze his hand in mine to make sure this isn’t a mind trick.
No. Dad is here.
He came back for me.
“There you are.”
My attention snaps to my right. A middle-aged man comes down the stairs with a polite smile on his face.
He’s dressed in a three-piece, striped suit, appearing fit and well-built for a man his age. His pale blue eyes resemble a snow tiger and, although he doesn’t appear old, his hair is peppered with white strands.
Wait.
There’s something familiar about him.
I take a closer look at the man and my eyes widen. “You.”
“Told you she’d recognise you.” Knox crashes into the man from behind, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, grinning with mischief. “Pay up the hundred, Agnus.”
“Do you recognise me?” The man — Agnus — asks without paying attention to Knox.
I nod slowly. “You were always at that coffee shop.”
“Bingo!” Knox smirks, extending his palm. “My one hundred. Any day now.”
“For the record, you made the bet. I never agreed.” Agnus reaches into his pocket and retrieves his wallet. Knox snatches the bills and grins while counting the money.
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” My gaze bounces between the three of them.
“This is Agnus,” Dad says. “He’s my right-hand, adviser, and best friend. He’s been taking care of the company and the estate while I was unable to.”
“You don’t remember me, Elsa, but I was your favourite uncle when you were younger.”
“Uncle Reg was my favourite.” The words fall from my lips in a haunted whisper.
Agnus’s face turns blank. Knox tenses so visibly, he nearly rips the money with his fingers.
Dad’s expression remains unreadable. “Reginald is no more, princess.”
“He was my twin brother.” Agnus smiles with ease considering the situation. “You could never tell us apart.”