"I still can't believe it," said Greta as she shook her head.
"Still can't believe what?" Malcom asked, his eyes fixed on the road.
"That Rhénee shot the guy." Greta looked at her brother.
"You better believe it. It surprised Kevin and I too, but she did. We can go to the woods to see the guy's body if you want."
Greta shook her head vigorously. "No, thank you. You know how things like that frighten me."
Malcom scoffed. "I know. The body's probably gone already. But if she didn't intervene, I wouldn't be here right now."
"That would've left me devastated. Not to mention mum. She can throw a fit first before she could mourn."
"Throw a fit? Why would she do that first?"
"I don't know." Greta had a look on her face that showed even she was surprised that she said that. "You know how we're always assuming mum might be after Rhénee? What if she's the one who sent those men to the cottage?"
Malcom thought about it. He found himself gripping the steering wheel too tight that he strained the nerves of his left arm and felt pain in his shoulder. He winced.
"Hey, careful!" Greta cried out to him. "I told you that I should be the one driving. You're stressing your arm."
"I'm fine, Greta," Malcom said, still not looking at her. "The thought of mum hiring those men to capture Rhénee makes me sick."
"I want to prove myself wrong, but everything seems to point to her. Since one of the men is still alive, we might be in big trouble."
Malcom knew what she meant. If the men they found at the cottage did work for their mother, she'll know that they're protecting Rhénee.
Malcom pulled the car over. They were only a few minutes away from the house. Greta looked at her brother with a confused look on her face.
"What are you doing?" Greta asked. "Why did you stop the car?"
Malcom bit his lower lip as he continued to stare in front of him. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought for a second. He turned to look at his sister who now had a scared look on her face.
"What do you plan to do, Malcom?" she asked. "Whenever you look like that, there's something you're planning."
"I'm not going back to the house," he said.
"What?! Are you kidding me!"
"No, Greta. I'm not."
"You're insane. You know that? Why are you doing this?"
"Because the man who got injured must have informed mum by now that I was there in the woods. If that's the case, then it won't end well for me."
"Stop saying that, Malcom." Greta couldn't believe what Malcom was saying. "The man probably doesn't know you."
"But I do."
"Huh?" Greta's eyes were wide with shock. "You're kidding, right?"
"No, I'm not. We live in a small town where everybody knows everybody. After the incident in the forest, I did a lot of thinking. That's when I realised that I've seen the man before."
"Where did you see him?"
"The party mum held in honour of Rhénee. When I think about it, I've probably seen him more times than I can count."
Greta had no words. It's clear that the man and their mother knew each other, but she wasn't going to accept Malcom's decision so easily.
"But you can't just leave, Malcom," she said. "I won't let you."
"Greta, its best if I don't go back. Mum probably knows by now. Who knows what she will do to me."
"But you can't leave me alone in that house with her."
"Try to understand that if I'm not around, there won't be anyone to help protect Rhénee."
"You're not the only one protecting her. I don't want to lose you. Not the way I lost dad."
"Greta, I-"
"No. I always listen to you, Malcom, but you're going to listen to me. I know your promise to Emelda is important, but you can't do this. I'm your sister for crying out loud."
"Do you want to get me killed?"
"And you think she will do that? She's our mother for goodness sake!" Greta folded her arms.
"But we know what she's capable of. You know what happened to dad."
"All that was her fault, but you're not going to leave me in that house with her just because you think it's best for you. If she lays a finger on you, I'll make her regret it."
Malcom looked at her sister and gave her a smirk. "That's nice of you, Greta. But I'm not changing my mind."
"If you leave, I'll come with you."
Malcom raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You heard me. I'll come with you. I'm not going to stay with her in that house. You know I can't handle her on my own."
He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you, Greta?"
"If you think I'm not going to go through with it, you're mistaken."
"No. I believe you." Malcom turned to look back in front of him. "I can't take you with me. It will leave mum hysterical. I'll have no choice but to go back to the house."
Greta slowly dropped her arms as the look on her face changed. It was a look of sudden hope.
"Are you sure, Malcom?" she asked. She somehow couldn't believe what he's saying.
He didn't look at her as he nodded. "Right now, we can't be too sure that she knows anything or if she's in charge of those men we found in the cottage to begin with."
"But what if all those assumptions are true?"
"Then we would've to be careful with her from now onwards. It's best I was there in the forest and not you, so she could keep her eyes only on me."
"So, we're just going to try and keep it low for now? What if she locks you up or something?"
"That's why you're here to have my back. What happened to dealing with mum if she ever lays her hands on me?" Malcom turned to look at his sister when he asked.
Greta cleared her throat as she also looked out the windshield. "Of course, I will. I won't let her hurt you, I promise."
Malcom chuckled. "Don't make such promises. If anything happens to me, make sure you don't do things on your own. You should call Rhénee and Kevin for help."
"Ya, ya, I know. Can we go back home now?"
"That place doesn't feel like home anymore."
Greta didn't respond and Malcom put the car on drive. They soon drove through the open gate of their house. As the car slowly drove up to the front, they saw their mother standing by the doorstep with her phone in hand. She looked up at the car as it approached.
Malcom and Greta looked at her as the car slowly parked in front of the house. Their mother's eyes never left the car. Greta turned to look at her brother. Malcom switched the car's engine off, his eyes never leaving his mother.
"Do you think she knows?" Greta asked almost whispering to her brother.
"There's only one way to find out," Malcom answered.
Greta swallowed. Confronting their mother was one thing she didn't like to do.
Malcom got out of the car first and Greta hurriedly followed. Malcom closed the door behind him and stood, still looking at his mother. Greta turned to look at her brother first, scared of what her mother would do. She turned to her and wondered what could be running through her mind right now.
Malcom approached the front door first. Greta hurried round the car to stand right by his side. They walked to the doorstep together.
"Where have you two been?" Mrs. Derrand asked before her two children could even reach her.
"Huh...," Greta paused for a bit before saying, "I told you earlier that I was hanging out with friends this afternoon."
Mrs. Derrand looked at Greta like a bug she had just stepped on. She sighed, changing her expression for a bit before turning to look at Malcom.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked.
"There were a few things I had to check up on at work," Malcom said.
"I thought you were off work this week."
"Just a raincheck." Malcom shrugged.
Mrs. Derrand raised an eyebrow and Malcom hoped she wasn't going to ask anything else.
"Is that the shirt you were wearing when you left the house?" she asked.
She has a good eye, Malcom noted. Nothing ever passes under her radar without her noticing. Now he had to think of something before she sniffs him out and demands the truth.
"I spelt a whole cup of strawberry milkshake when he came to pick me up at the mall," Greta answered. "So we had to stop at Becky's house and her brother lent out his shirt to him."
"You're always so clumsy," said Mrs. Derrand as she shook her head at Greta. She turned around to head back into the house. The door already stood open and she went right through without a second glance at her children.
"Do you think she knows?" Greta whispered to her brother. She had to be careful while their mother was within earshot. If it's another ability she had, it's super hearing.
"Doesn't seem like it," Malcom said as he looked at his sister. "That's if she's the one behind it all."
"Aren't you two getting in or do you plan on camping out for the night?" Mrs. Derrand asked down the hall as she had her eyes on her children.
"Coming, mum!" Greta said as she hurriedly walked through the door. Malcom murmured and calmly followed Greta, closing the door behind him.
***
Rhénee reached the bottom of the stairs and walked towards the livingroom. Kevin still sat on the couch. He had his elbows on his knees, his body bent forward and playing around with his fingers. He seemed to be lost in thought that he hadn't heard Rhénee approach.
"Kevin?" Rhénee called out to him.
Kevin quickly looked up at Rhénee, startled. He sat upright.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"I'm okay," she answered as she sat opposite him with the coffee table between them.
Rhénee didn't know how to keep the conversation going as she folded her arms and crossed her leg over the other. She looked up at the ceiling. She could feel Kevin's eyes on her and that made her uncomfortable.
"With what you went through today, you seem kind of....," Kevin started but couldn't find the right word to finish the sentence.
Rhénee had her eyes on him this time around. "Normal?" she asked.
"That isn't the word I'm looking for," he said with an eyebrow raised and a small smile on his face.
"I'm fine, Kevin. You don't have to worry about me."
"But you did something serious, Rhénee. Of course I've to worry."
Rhénee sighed. "I'm a lot stronger than you think."
"Why do you say that?"
Rhénee slightly bit her lower lip as she looked at the coffee table before her. She wished she never said that.
"Rhénee, please tell me," said Kevin, this time his voice was soft and gentle. "Is there something that I should know?"
"There is," Rhénee answered. She slowly looked up at him and locked with his green eyes. "But I don't think I'm ready to tell you yet."
Kevin continued to look at her and they were silent.
"Why won't you tell me?" he asked, breaking the silence between them.
"I don't feel like it," Rhénee answered. She unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her laps. "It's not that simple to talk about. Not right now, at least."
"That's okay. I'm not going to force you. It seems like a big personal issue."
Rhénee slowly nodded. "It is. I would rather tell it to you, Malcom and Greta. You three deserve to know."
"Does Miss Griselda know?"
"She always has. She insists I tell you. But I don't feel like now is the time."
Kevin didn't seem satisfied with Rhénee's answer, but he sighed in defeat. "I'll keep my word," he said, "and not force you to tell me. Though I'm really dying to know."
"Like I said, you'll just have to wait."
"Okay, then," he said as he sat up a little straighter. "If you need me, just to talk or whatever, you can always call me."
"I appreciate it, Kevin. Your friendship, I mean. I know you're only looking out for me, but I'm fine, honestly."
Kevin chuckled a little as he stood. "I'm glad to hear that."
"You're leaving?" Rhénee asked as she also stood up from her seat.
"I better get going. I've to check up on, Mr. Cowell. He didn't show up for work today since he isn't feeling well."
"Oh, I almost forgot." Rhénee scratched the back of her head. "Send him my regards."
"I will. So much happened today."
"That reminds me...," Rhénee snapped her fingers as she remembered. "What happened to the finger we found in the bathroom?"
"Don't tell, Miss Griselda, but Greta hid it somewhere in the deep freezer. We meant to take it to someone Malcom knew to analyse it and see who it belongs to, but then, you ran away."
"Oh." Rhénee continued to scratch the back of head, feeling a little embarrassed. "Sorry about that. I thought going there would somehow stop whatever is going on."
"And you saw that that wasn't the case."
"Ya." Rhénee laughed trying to hide her embarrassment.
"I'm just glad you're okay. That's what matters right now."
"You're treating me like a four-year old. I'm a grown woman, you know."
Kevin wanted to say something but stopped as he smiled, looking down at his feet. Rhénee raised an eyebrow and wondered what's going on with him.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said as she quickly looked up at her. "I better get going."
Just as he started to make his way out of the livingroom, Rhénee held his arm to stop him. Kevin looked at her with a startled look on his face.
"Rhénee, what is it?" he asked.
"You were just about to say something. What is it?"
Kevin raised an eyebrow at her. "If you really want to know, then you'll just have to wait."
"Huh?" Rhénee couldn't believe he used those words on her.
"The same way you won't tell me that secret, I'm also not going to tell you."
Rhénee let go of Kevin and folded her own arms. She rolled her eyes. "Fine, then I won't force you either."
Kevin couldn't contain his amusement as he laughed. Rhénee furrowed her eyebrows at him, wondering what could be so funny.
"What are you laughing at?" she asked.
"I'm surprised you didn't try and force me."
"Why would I? If you aren't going to tell me, I shouldn't force you, right? I bet it's nothing important anyway."
"Ya, you're right, it's nothing. I should be heading out now."
"Let me escort you to the door."
The two walked side by side, leaving the livingroom and heading for the door.
"I'm sorry for all the problems I caused today," Rhénee said as they neared the door.
"What should you be sorry for?" Kevin asked as he looked at her. "You've already apologised. And besides, I get what you were trying to do."
"But if I hadn't left on my own, we wouldn't have gone through all that trouble. Malcom would've died. You would've too."
"After what you did to save Malcom, I know you would do the same for me."
Rhénee stopped as they reached the door. She turned to look at Kevin whose eyes had been on her the entire time.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye," said Kevin. "I'll see you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, okay?"
"I should be the one telling you that."
Kevin smiled. "Goodnight, Rhénee."
He opened the door and stepped out. Before he could close the door, Rhénee said:
"Goodnight, Kevin. Get home safely, will you?"
"I will." Kevin looked at Rhénee one last time before closing the door.
Rhénee found herself staring at the door as though expecting something or someone to walk right through at any moment now. But what?
"Ah, I see Kevin has already left," said Miss Griselda as she stood right behind Rhénee.
Rhénee got startled as she turned around to look at Miss Griselda. Rhénee hadn't heard her. Creepy.
"Yes, he has," said Rhénee as she found herself tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"It would've been nice if he stayed for dinner."
"He had things to do."
Miss Griselda shrugged her shoulders like she didn't care, but with a smile on her face. Rhénee didn't want to know what Miss Grielda was getting at, so she decided not to dwell on it.
"Hey, have you seen Sophie?"
"She's snoozing in her little basket in the sitting room."
"She's just as tired as I am. She also came with me to the forest."
"It's weird how the cat follows you around. Not all cats are that loyal."
"Ya, you're right." Rhénee thought for a second over what Miss Griselda said. She remembered what happened when she was in the forest with Sophie.
"Hey, I'm preparing supper," said Miss Griselda, bringing Rhénee back from her thoughts. "Want to help out?"
"Nah. I'm beat. But I can keep you company."
"Okay. You need to get your mind distracted. Come on."
Rhénee followed Miss Griselda to the kitchen, but her earlier thought soon came back to her. How can she ever admit to herself or to anyone else that Sophie knew where the cottage was?
***
Eugene rubbed his tired eyes. It's almost close to eight in the evening, yet he felt he had been awake the whole day. His father had to go for an operation and it took almost two hours. He's now in the recovery room, meaning no one could go and see him until the doctors can give the go ahead.
He looked around the waiting room. His mother had left to meet Mrs. York at the reception who had been kind enough to bring them supper. Eugene didn't have an appetite. He just wanted to know if his father was going to be alright. His thoughts quickly went to Albert. He was obviously wondering what's going on and where his mother and older brother were.
He looked down at the floor before he looked up and saw his mother standing at the entrance of the waiting room. She looked to have lost weight in just a few hours. She also looked rather pale. She had a grey carrier bag in her hand and when Eugene locked eyes with her, Mrs. Chamberlin beckoned to him to come with her.
He stood up from his seat and approached his mother. He realised she had a black jumper on. Mrs. York must have brought it for her to keep warm.
"You need to eat something, Eugene," Mrs. Chamberlin told him. "You must be hungry."
"You need it more than I do," he said.
"Don't start with me. Come on, let's go to the cafeteria."
Eugene didn't have the energy to start arguing, so he followed her down the hall.
The cafeteria was almost empty with only two tables occupied by two people each. Eugene followed his mother towards the far end of the room. She laid the carrier bag on the nearest table and drew out a chair to sit down.
"Mrs. York was kind enough to bring us some spaghetti and meatballs," said Mrs. Chamberlin as Eugene took the chair next to her.
Mrs. Chamberlin unpacked the bag. She removed a big grey food warmer, two forks and two bottles of water. She put the bag aside on another chair. There seemed to be more things in there that Eugene didn't dare to ask what.
His mother removed the warmer's lid and held out a fork to Eugene. He looked at it, wondering whether to take it or not. Mrs. Chamberlin looked at him, expressionless. Even when she looked like that, Eugene knew better if he didn't take it.
He took the fork and stared at the food. On any normal day, he would've loved to have spaghetti and meatballs for supper. He would've enjoyed it with Albert, since it's his favourite. But with the way things have been today, he didn't feel like eating it at all.
"You better eat," said Mrs. Chamberlin. "You'll need your strength."
Eugene gave in as he put his fork into the warmer and twisted it around so as to wrap the spaghetti around the fork's teeth. He lifted it and put the spaghetti in his mouth.
He noticed that his mother had been looking at him the entire time. Despite her tired look, she somehow had a smile on her face.
"What?" Eugene asked with his mouth almost full.
"I thought you weren't going to eat," she said taking her fork. "Given what's happened, I can understand if you didn't want to. But if you've to stay strong, you've to gain energy to do so."
"I know that." Eugene placed his fork in the warmer to get more spaghetti, realising how hungry he was. "But don't you think your energy's been drained for a long time now?"
Mrs. Chamberlin ate some spaghetti before she turned to look at Eugene, wondering what he meant. She gave him a questioning look since she couldn't open her mouth to ask. Eugene read her look and continued to say:
"I mean, dad. For a long time he's brought you nothing but problems. You don't look well, mum. If things hadn't turned out the way they have, you would've been the one in hospital because of all the pressure he has given you over the years."
Mrs. Chamberlin looked at her son and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I know how you feel, Eugene," she said. "But let's not talk about it. He needs us now more than ever."
"And when he gets better..., what then?" Eugene asked as he shrugged his shoulders. "If you expect him to change, he won't."
"Oh, Eugene," said Mrs. Chamberlin as she went to twisting her fork in the spaghetti. "If you had it your way, you wouldn't have come here after I told you about your father."
"I came here because of you. You don't understand just how he troubles you, mum. And why did he even come to the house instead of the hospital? I bet he got into a rough spot and thought he would come by to hide."
"Well, whatever it is, it doesn't give us the right to abdandon him. Whether you like it or not, he's still my husband and he's still your father."
Mrs. Chamberlin ate some more spaghetti while Eugene shook his head in disbelief. He continued to eat.
"I wonder how Albert's doing," said Eugene after a few minutes of silence had passed between them.
"He's fine," Mrs. Chamberlin said after she had swallowed. "But you know how he is, always asking questions. He found the police by the house the time he got back from school. Mrs. York was already waiting outside to take him away."
"I can imagine how gruesome the scene by the front door must have been."
Mrs. Chamberlin shut her eyes as if trying to erase the memory. "You don't what to know," she said.
Eugene looked into the warmer and realised that they had finished the food. He didn't expect them to finish it. He placed his fork inside the empty warmer.
"Do you need a bottle of water?" Mrs. Chamberlin asked.
"Not now," he replied. "I'll drink it later."
"Maybe you should go home and check on Albert. It will be good if he sees you."
"You should be the one going back to him. You need the extra rest too."
"No, dear. I'm going to stay right here until your father wakes up and you've work tomorrow."
"I'll just call Mr. Sinclair and tell him that I won't be around."
"No. Don't let this weigh you down. I'm here and your father's stable, don't you worry."
"I'm worried about you, not him."
Mrs. Chamberlin smiled at her son as she placed her hand on his cheek. "You care about him. You just don't want to admit it."
Eugene scoffed and he quickly stood up from his seat. His mother looked up at him, still smiling.
"If I'm to go home, I better head back right away before it gets too late," said Eugene.
"Good idea," said Mrs. Chamberlin as she also stood up. "The sooner, the better."
Mrs. Chamberlin started to pack up the warmer back into the carrier bag. Eugene waited for her and when he turned his eyes towards the doors of the cafeteria, he saw two police officers in uniform with a nurse. A blonde haired tall man and an African American. She had her arm drawn out, pointing her finger at Eugene and his mother. He turned to look at his mother who hadn't noticed them yet.
"Mum, I think we've company," Eugene said to her.
Mrs. Chamberlin turned to see the officers approach them. She looked a little nervous as she rubbed her palms on the front of her trousers.
"Good evening, ma'am," the blonde haired officer greeted. "You must be Mrs. Chamberlin, right?"
"Evening, officer," Mrs. Chamberlin greeted. "Yes, that's me. Are you here about my husband?"
"Yes, ma'am," the African American officer replied. "He came in with a gunshot wound, so we would like to ask you a few questions."
"Of course, officer."
"You want me to stay with you, mum?" Eugene asked, looking at his mother.
"No, dear. You go home and check on Albert. I'll be fine."
Eugene nodded and started to make his way out of the cafeteria. His mother and the officers remained behind and sat by the table. He took a glance behind him and wished he could've stayed with his mother while they questioned her. But he had to go. He knows she can handle things by herself. She always had for years. He always tried to offer her help, especially when it came to issues with his father. But despite all the heartbreak, she somehow stood tall. He had always admired that about her. But this incident had taken things a little too far, and he wondered if his mother could handle it. That's if things turn out worse with the police.
Eugene was walking down the corridor when he pulled out his phone. He hadn't checked it for quite a while. He had a number of messages. Some were from his colleagues asking how his father was doing. The other was from his best friend, Miguel. He had somehow heard the news. If he has, half the town probably knows by now.
Eugene decided to call him as he approached the waiting room to get his things. He really needed someone to talk to right now.
"Hello, Eugene?" came Miguel on the other end of the line.
"Hey, Miguel," said Eugene as he walked into the waiting room and went towards the chairs he had been sitting on with his mother.
"I heard the news, man. I'm really sorry about your dad."
Eugene sat on the chair and sighed as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I figured you would."
"What happened? People say he came to the house bleeding. Is that true?"
"Yes, he did. He was shot."
"Who shot him? Did he say?"
"No, he didn't. Well, mum was there when he came to the house. He just told her not to take him to the hospital. She said he was bleeding so much that he passed out. She had no choice but to call the ambulance."
"That's very sad to hear. For him to insist not to be taken to the hospital, he didn't want to face the police."
"That's what I thought too. Whatever it's all about, he doesn't want anyone to know what happened."
"How's your mother doing? This must be devastating for her."
"She's holding together. You know how she is."
"She's strong, that's what she is. She really has to leave him. No offense, but he's caused her more pain and suffering."
"We think the same, Miguel." Eugene leaned back on the chair. "I also wish she could get the divorce procedures going. She never listens to me."
"I bet she has her own reasons."
"I wish I knew what they were. Women sure are complicated."
"True. And what about Albert? How's he doing?"
"I don't know. Probably confused and scared. I'm heading back home. Mrs. York took him in because the police were at the house by the time he came back from school."
"You want me to come pick you up?"
"Nah, man. Let me not bother you. You've your grandmother to take care of, don't you?"
"Ya. Today she doesn't seem delusional like she always is. Sometimes I feel she acts like that to get attention."
Eugene laughed. He hadn't felt cheerful in what felt like years when only hours had passed. "We both know she's crazy. Just don't let your guard down."
"I won't. You take care, Eugene. I'll come check on you tomorrow. Does that sound good?"
"Ya, sure. Thanks, Miguel. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Eugene."
Eugene cut the call and put his phone back in his pocket. He took his bag and jacket that were on the other seat, stood up and walked out of the waiting room.
He headed for the lobby. The place is still as busy as ever with nurses and doctors walking down the hall, doing their duties. He found himself walking out of the entrance doors of the hospital and into the night. It wasn't too cold. Eugene walked through the hospital parking lot heading for the main gates.
As soon as he walked out, he made his way to the bus station just across the street. He wondered if night buses were still operational at this hour.
When he reached the other side of the street, he looked behind him to see if there were any buses approaching. Instead, he saw a black car just outside the hospital premises, almost hidden in the dark as some of the street lights outside the hospital were off. He wondered why someone would pack their car there instead of the parking lot inside the hospital premises. It's not like it's packed at this hour. It never is. Eugene ignored the car as he approached the empty bus stop.
Thankful for the florescent light above the roof of the bus stop, Eugene sat down on the bench and decided to take a look at his phone to answer those who had sent him text messages, including Preeta. She wasn't around when Eugene had left the office. He paused for a bit. Was it better to call or to text her? He shouldn't be sweating over the matter, he told himself. She texted him so it would be appropriate for him to do likewise.
He sent her a text telling her he was fine and so was his dad, and his mother most of all. He didn't expect to receive her reply right away, so he tucked his phone away into his pocket. He looked down the road to see if there was any sign of the bus coming. The car packed down the street caught his attention all over again. He tried to ignore it, but now he felt a little suspicious. Was someone in there waiting for somebody? Why park the car there?
Eugene shook his head and told himself that he's being paranoid. He looked right ahead of him trying to pretend that the car wasn't there. He heard the sound of a vehicle and turned to see a bus approaching the station. He had never felt so relieved.
As the bus neared the stop, Eugene couldn't help but stare at the black car. A thought suddenly popped up. What if the person in the car was the one who had shot his father and was here to finish the job?
"Hey, are you coming in, son?"
Eugene snapped out of his thoughts. He hadn't realised that the bus had stopped right in front of him and the bus driver had asked through the open door if he was coming in. Eugene looked at the middle-aged bus driver in a blue coat and uniform with a brown moustache.
"Ah, yes, I am," said Eugene. "Sorry about that."
The driver smiled at him and Eugene gave him an embarrassing one. He took one last glance at the car before he took his things, stood up and went inside the bus. He couldn't believe that he could think of such a thing. But something told him he might not be wrong. It was strange how his father got shot and didn't report it in the first place. Eugene didn't want to think that the person who shot his father was much closer than he thought. That would also put his mother in danger.
Eugene took a seat close to the window and the bus started to move. There weren't much people in the bus, but it felt good not to be completely alone. He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate and just when he was about to reach out for it, a fast moving car going in the opposite direction came in sight. A black Lamborgini. It passed the bus.
"Mr. Sinclair?" Eugene asked as he looked through the window in the direction it went. It hadn't stopped to take a turn to the hospital. Eugene couldn't help but wonder where Mr. Sinclair's going. Definitely not home because his way home is in the other direction.
Maybe he had other errands to run, Eugene thought. He leaned his head back and he realised how much of a tiring day he's had. He almost forgot about his phone, but he told himself that he would check the message later. He couldn't wait to see Albert to assure him that everything's alright. He couldn't wait to get some sleep too.
***
"Boy, am I stuffed," said Rhénee as she tapped her tummy. She was leaning back in her chair with her legs outstretched. "You really make the best meals, Miss Griselda."
Miss Griselda who stood by the sink chuckled. "I'm guessing you won't be having some dessert?" she asked.
"The apple pie can wait. I think I can't get up."
"Don't make me laugh, Rhénee," Miss Griselda continued to wash the dishes.
"No, I'm serious," Rhénee looked at her tummy. "And this tummy of mine just got a whole lot bigger."
"You've always had an appetite. But I've never seen you eat this much before."
"Maybe it's because I wasted all my energy today."
"Then you should be sleeping like Sophie."
"We all function differently."
"So how was your conversation with Kevin?" Miss Griselda turned to look at Rhénee through the corner of her eye.
"Not that again," Rhénee rolled her eyes.
"Why do you've to act so bitter?"
"Because I know where you're getting at. Kevin's really a nice guy. But him being there for me just because he promised my grandmother, scares me sometimes. What if what happens to Malcom also happens to him?"
"So you do care for him?"
"I care about all of them. I just don't like the way they are sticking their necks out for me."
"They made a promise and they are willing to follow through with it till the end."
Rhénee went deep in thought before she asked, "why is that? Why are they so hell bent on sticking with me? It's not like I need bodyguards."
"If I had the power there would be bodyguards around you all day. But you wouldn't like that."
Rhénee sat a little upright. "That's true. But why are they protecting me? What did grandma tell them?"
Miss Griselda put down the plate she had been rinsing on the dish rack and turned to look at Rhénee. Rhénee's eyes had never left her.
"It's not about what she told them," Miss Griselda said, "it's about what she did for them."
Before Rhénee could ask what she meant, the land-line started to ring in the livingroom. The two ladies looked at each other.
"I'll go and answer it," said Rhénee as she quickly stood up from the seat, forgetting how full her tummy was.
Miss Griselda followed Rhénee out of the kitchen. "I really hope it's not that mysterious man," she said. "I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."
Rhénee hadn't thought of that as she reached the land-line. She stared at the phone before picking it up. Miss Griselda stood right beside her.
"Hello?" Rhénee asked, her heart now starting to beat a little quicker.
"Rhénee, thank goodness you answered," came Kevin's voice on the other end of the line. "I tried calling your phone, but you weren't answering. I had to call the land-line."
"Kevin?" Rhénee turned to look at Miss Griselda, confused that he had called. "Why are you calling?"
"I'm afraid I don't have good news."
Rhénee looked at Miss Griselda who read her expression and in return, had a horrified look on her face. Rhénee wondered what Kevin could be talking about. She felt her heart beat fast with fear.
"What do you mean, Kevin?" Rhénee asked. "Are you aright?" Miss Griselda cupped her hands and silently prayed.
"No, I'm fine," Kevin replied. "But someone isn't."
"Who? Tell me, you're leaving me anxious, here."
"I found the owner of the finger we found in the bathroom today."
"Are you serious? Whose is it?"
"It's Mr. Cowell's."
Rhénee's jaw dropped and she went on to stare at Miss Griselda, who held her shoulder, wanting to know what's going on.
"Hello, Rhénee, are you there?" Kevin called to her.
"Tell me how to get to his house," she said. "I'm coming over."
"I'll text you the address on your phone. Should I inform Malcom and Greta?"
"They should know but its not a guarantee that they will come over."
"You'll find me here, then."
Rhénee put the receiver back in its place. She looked at Miss Griselda and wondered how to tell her the news.
"I heard Kevin talk about Mr. Cowell," Miss Griselda said. "Is he alright?"
Rhénee closed her eyes and shook her head. "He's not. It's pretty bad. I've to go and check on him."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"No, you better stay here and take care of the house."
"Mr. Cowell is a very good friend of mine and at this trying time, I shouldn't abandon him. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not."
"Okay," Rhénee nodded. "But before we leave, we better make sure every window is closed and all the doors are shut. I'm going up stairs to get my phone and will start there."
"I'll do so downstairs."
Rhénee quickly rushed for the stairs while Miss Griselda went for the kitchen. As hasty as the two were with what they were doing, they still managed to make sure that the house was well secure. When they met each other downstairs in the foyer, they were sure they can leave the house.
"Shall we leave?" Miss Griselda asked.
Rhénee nodded and before she could open the door, she felt something soft lightly brush her leg. When she looked, Sophie was there, staring at her.
"Looks like you don't want to stay here alone either," Rhénee told the cat. Sophie meowed.
Rhénee opened the door and she, Miss Griselda and Sophie left the house, with Miss Griselda making sure to lock the door behind her.361Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxjse2hzozN
