“I thought I didn’t have any appointments until this afternoon.”
“Yes, but he said it’s urgent. He’s a solicitor.”
“Let him in.” Could this be another one of Jonathan’s games?
Jessica disappears. Soon after, a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and pale hazel eyes appears at my door. I stand and take his hand as he offers a handshake.
“Aurora Harper. How may I help you?”
“Stephan Wayne. I’m Maxim Griffin’s solicitor.”
I retrieve my hand from his at supersonic speed, as if I’ve been hit by lightning. My breathing catches; it takes everything in me not to collapse or run and hide.
“How…how did you find me?”
“It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but blood speaks, Ms Griffin.”
“My name is Aurora Harper.”
“Why, yes.” His expression remains unchanged as he motions at the sofa. “Aren’t you going to offer me a seat?”
“Get out of my office. Now.”
“That’s very unfortunate, Ms Harper. I was hoping to get you on the witness stand for Mr Griffin’s parole hearing.”
This time, I stumble backwards. I nearly fall on the sofa but manage to hold myself up at the last minute. My legs shake so prominently, I can’t contain my stance or my emotions.
My worst nightmare rushes to the forefront of my mind, as if it’s been lurking right beneath the surface all along.
Vacant Eyes.
Blood.
Duct tape.
The look of absolute desolation.
No. Not again. No.
“He’s not eligible for parole.” My voice is barely audible.
“The judge changed his mind for exemplary behaviour.”
This can’t be true.
This is a nightmare.
My heart beats loud and fast. I’m that girl running in the forest, my breathing constricted, my lungs suffocating, my head about to snap from the pain.
He’s coming.
He’s there.
They are also there.
“Ms Harper.”
My head snaps up to meet the solicitor’s gaze.