by Kat Cotton
“Do not interfere.” He walked to the door. “This is none of your business.”
“It is my business.” I grabbed him. “This isn’t fair. I need to make this right. I need to do something to fix things.”
“No. You. Don’t.” Ren shook loose from my grip. He wasn’t the same person who’d kissed me in the garden earlier. He wasn’t the boy I’d joked around with or who’d been caught up in studying all afternoon. Ren had become a stranger. “I’m fine with things the way they are. It’s not your place to interfere with my family. If my mother cared...”
“But...”
“Just stay out of my sight for the rest of the time you’re here. Stay in your room and don’t snoop around my house.”
With that, he walked out of my room, slamming the door.
Fine. He could go. I wouldn’t run after him. He might think he didn’t care about things while he still had this house to come back to and a driver to pick him up and all the other safety nets around him but that wouldn’t last forever. Ren would learn about poverty the hard way but if I could, I’d protect him from that.
I slumped on my bed, pushing the blankets aside. For once, I was too angry to feel the cold.
I knew what he’d meant to say. If his mother cared, she wouldn’t have left. She would’ve taken him with her. She’d have done anything to prevent him growing up with his evil father.
But I’d noticed something else. As much as Ren denied wanting anything of his father’s, he still said “my house” and he still considered the servants his staff.
I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and opened the first file. I scoured for any tiny bit of information about my parents. Then I studied the photos for so long, they became etched in my mind. It was okay for Ren to get angry. His parents hadn’t been stolen from him. We must’ve had things in our house, personal things that belonged to them but I’d never seen any of that after they died. Not one photo, not a single memento except the birthmark on my hip.
Eventually, I got too tired to read further.
When I woke the next morning, I still had the blanket around my shoulders and the files scattered on my bed. I gathered the files up and set them next to the bed.
After I showered and dressed, I sat back on my bed. Ren had said not to go near him. Fine. When Miranda turned up to serve his breakfast, she’d see I wasn’t there and bring the food to my room. That would be even better. We’d have an excuse to talk.
I waited and waited, my stomach rumbling with hunger and flipping with anxiety. It wouldn’t be long now and I’d have the information I needed.
When I checked my watch, it was nearly ten. We’d been served breakfast much earlier yesterday. Surely Ren wouldn’t be petty enough to not let me have food. If he wanted to play that game, I’d get a taxi and leave. Or bash on his door until he fed me. Bashing on his door seemed a much better idea.
I’d got up to do just that when someone knocked at my door.
Miranda?
But it was Mrs. Cavendish who came in with the tray of food.
I peered around her, wondering where Miranda was. I didn’t want to ask and get her into trouble.
“Master Ren said you were eating in your own room.”
She didn’t have to smirk like that.
“Just leave the tray on the table by the bed,” I told her.
I’m pretty sure she rolled her eyes. She could roll them all she liked. I just wanted her to leave the tray and get out of here.
My heart pounded. The files. On the floor beside my bed.
I couldn’t let her see those files. I couldn’t even let her get a hint that I had them.
I lunged forward, taking the tray from her hands.
“Will that be all?” She smiled slyly like I’d just confirmed that I was the most uncouth person she’d ever met.
“Yep, yep, everything’s fine. What do I do with the tray after I eat?”
I inched her toward the door. I needed her out of my room, quicksticks.
“I’ll come and collect it.”
“No, no. That’s fine. I’ll take it down to the kitchen. I don’t want you climbing those steep stairs.”
That didn’t seem to impress her but at least she left my room.
I checked the files. Only the edge of the folders could be seen from where she’d stood. And there was no way for her to know they weren’t my school notes. She probably didn’t know that Mr. Worthington even kept those files.
My heart rate went back to normal. I needed to eat. It was nearly lunch time already.
I set the tray on the bed and took the lid off the dishes. My breakfast had gone cold. I bet she waited for a long time after serving Ren on purpose so I’d get cold eggs. They didn’t look too appealing but I ate them anyway. I’d eaten much worse than cold eggs in my day. Any food was good food.
The only thing on that tray that wasn’t cold was the orange juice.
Before I took the tray back to the kitchen, I stuffed the files under my mattress. Not a good hiding spot if anyone was looking for them but good enough to have them out of sight.
I crept down to the kitchen, the dirty dishes piled on the tray.
Bingo! I heard voices.
I made myself invisible so I could listen.
“That lazy girl’s run off, I tell you. I had to serve the breakfast myself.” Mrs. Cavendish sounded annoyed. Like taking a tray of breakfast up to my room was any big deal. If she’d asked, I’d have come downstairs to eat.
“It’s not like her to disappear. She’s worked here for a long time and has proved herself responsible. Have you checked her room? She might be ill.” That was Larimore.
“I’ll check later. I’m far too busy at the moment to run up all those stairs. If she was too ill to work, she could’ve informed someone.”
When the voices stopped, I took the tray in and left it on the table.
“That doesn’t belong there.”
I jumped. I thought she sat in the side room with a cup of tea. So much for being busy. And why was she complaining about where I’d put the tray? I’d done her a favor bringing it down here myself. The woman really hated me.
“Where does it go?”
She indicated a shelf near the door.
I went back to my room, planning on going up to the attic to check for myself. I doubted Miranda was in her room, ill, but maybe she’d been scared off.
Before I could do that, I got a message from Ren.
I knew he wouldn’t stay angry for long. It wasn’t like we had any reason for fighting. I was on his side, he had to see that.
But the message wasn’t an apology.
The lawyer will be here at 11:00. Meet him downstairs.
That gave me ten minutes. I’d look for Miranda later.
Before rushing downstairs, I checked my hair and outfit looked okay for meeting with a lawyer. I still wore my two hoodies and my jeans but even if I had a better outfit, it’d be too cold to change. Permanent goosepimples covered my skin since I’d arrived here.
Ren hadn’t said where to meet the lawyer so I headed for the entrance hall. Luckily, Larimore met me as I walked through the sitting rooms.
“I have a room prepared.”
I followed him. Not only had he prepared a room, he’d prepared a room with an open fire. A glorious fire. I wanted to kiss him and I wanted to kiss that fire too.
When Larimore left the room, I stood on the hearth, as close as I could get to that fire without burning myself, until the lawyer arrived. This room, at the front of the house, had some sunlight shine through the fancy bay window. It wasn’t a bad room at all. There was a round table with two chairs, still heavy wood but not as imposing as the rest of the house. I wondered if, since Ren didn’t want to see me, I could use this room as a study. That’d beat sitting in my bedroom all day.
I jumped when the lawyer entered but I held out my hand like I shook hands with lawyers all the time. The guy kind of scared me but then anyone in a three-piece suit with a briefcase did.
<
br /> Larimore asked if we wanted something to drink but both of us said we were okay and sat at the table. The lawyer smiled and he didn’t seem too bad.
“This is just a formality,” he said. “I’m sure your school principal told you most of this but I thought it best to meet in person while you’re here in case you had any questions.”
I wanted to ask why he had his nails buffed since that seemed a weird thing even for a fancy lawyer but I figured that wasn’t what he meant.
He didn’t really tell me more than Principal Murphy had said so I just nodded and smiled in the right places.
“I’m sure this will just be a formality and Mr. Worthington will return soon. You’re a lucky girl that he’s taken such an interest in you and has been very generous in his support.”
I gulped down the words I wanted to say and smiled instead. “I am an exceptionally bright and gifted student.”
“I’ll get you to sign this paper just to verify that I’ve explained everything to your satisfaction then we can call it a day. I’m sure you have much more important things to do than sit around talking to an old fuddy-duddy like me.”
Since the lawyer was in his thirties, I’m pretty sure he wanted me to say that he wasn’t an old fuddy-duddy but the fact that he’d used the phrase “fuddy-duddy” proved that he was. And I did have more important things to do, like find Miranda, then find Mrs. Worthington and get Ren’s fortune back.
“Say, if Mrs. Worthington is still alive, what happens to the estate?”
He pursed his lips. “That gets rather difficult. She’s been gone over eleven years. She’d need to prove she was next-of-kin and not some impostor. But once that was done, then she’d be appointed executor. But, of course, that’s all speculation. I went to her funeral myself.”
I’d just finished signing the papers he gave me when a scream cut through the room, muffled by the thick walls but an unmistakable scream. I jumped up and rushed through the house. The scream came from the garden.
Chapter 24
BEFORE I COULD GET out the back door, one of the gardeners blocked my way. “You don’t want to go out there,” he said, his thick arm across the door frame.
“Why not?”
“The young lass...”
Young lass? The only young lass I’d seen around the place had been Miranda.
“Is she okay?”
He shook his head slowly. “She’s been attacked. Now go back into the house. You don’t want to see this.”
Attack? Did he mean a demon attack? I tried to read his expression. The man looked grieved but not scared. Surely he’d look scared if it’d been a demon attack.
“Is she alive?” Ren’s voice came from the hallway behind me.
The gardener shook his head slowly.
I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped back. No way. This couldn’t be happening. Poor Miranda.
“I need to go outside.” Ren pushed past me. “Maybe I can help.”
“There’s no helping now. We’re just waiting on the ambulance.”
Maybe we could do something, Ren and I together, but what? We couldn’t raise the dead. For once, our powers couldn’t help at all.
A heavy air of silence filled the hallway like this was too much for any of us to take in. My chest tightened and a weight of guilt settled on me. Even though Miranda had been the one to seek me out, she’d been so anxious, I should’ve told her not to put herself at risk. Surely, I could’ve done something. It all ran through my head, from the time I’d found her in my room. I needed to piece this together.
A sob broke my thoughts.
Ren.
He lifted his chin and took a deep breath. I knew the signs. He’d deny that sob. He wouldn’t cry. He’d push down all that sorrow.
Still, I put my arm around him. He needed someone to be here for him.
For a moment, he leaned against me then he stiffened and pushed me from him.
“Keep away from me,” he shouted then ran up the stairs to his room.
Since my business with the lawyer was done, I had nothing to do but go back to my room. I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing and my window had a perfect view of the garden. I pulled back the curtain then let it drop. Looking out seemed horribly ghoulish and disrespectful.
I rubbed my nose, the coldness of my room now seeming ominous.
Then I reached out for the curtain. Maybe if I looked out, I could see something that the police would miss. Some supernatural clue.
The ambulance had arrived with no siren to alert us. Paramedics carried a black body bag through the garden
Dead. It suddenly seemed real.
I gulped back tears. She’d been scared, really scared, when she’d come to my room last night. I shuddered, all too cold now. Mrs. Cavendish might’ve found out Miranda had come to see me even though I’d led the housekeeper away.
Was Mrs. Cavendish capable of murder? I didn’t know her well enough to say. Sure, she was mean and horrible but that didn’t make someone a murderer.
I’d sneak into the kitchen tonight. The staff would definitely be gossiping about this. I’d find out more information that way.
But I didn’t get a chance. About an hour later, Ren came to my room. He stood in the doorway, not looking at me.
“Pack your things. We’re going back to school early.”
I wanted to question him but he rushed off before I could. Why were we going back to school? Were we in danger?
I shoved my things in my backpack, throwing out a few things so the files fit in.
When I got to the entrance hall, Ren was already waiting in the car. He glanced at my backpack and then at me. He knew I had the files in there but didn’t say anything.
“What happened?” I asked him as we drove away.
But Ren just shrugged.
“I saw her last night. She was terrified of someone or something in your house.”
“Nonsense. It was a random attack. Someone broke into the garden.” Ren got headphones out of his bag and curled up, pretending to sleep.
Okay, he didn’t want to talk. And it’d be a selfish move to push him right now. Still, it wasn’t a random attack. No way could it have been. I bet that house had more security than most banks.
Ren didn’t look up until we got back to school. Then he got out of the car, grabbed his bags and walked away without speaking to me.
My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. In the short walk to the elevator, I looked over my shoulder about three times. Normally, I was all in favor of peace and quiet but just too much of it.
I got to my room and put on headphones. The unnatural stillness of the dorm wasn’t so noticeable when I purposely blocked it out.
After all that investigation, the only clue I had to Mrs. Worthington’s whereabouts was that name, Sunnyhills. A name so generic, it meant nothing.
I unpacked the files and read through them again. Mr. Worthington hadn’t tested me like he had Ren. He seemed more content to let the hard knocks of my life be my test. I opened one of the later files, from when I was in foster care. It only took one paragraph of reading before I slammed it shut. I’d lived through that ordeal once, no need to repeat it.
Instead, I reached for the file on my parents, the corners already getting dogeared. I took their photos out of the pocket and propped them up on my desk. I’d get them framed when I could.
I studied the wedding photo. Had the Worthington’s been there? I’d found out that Mr. Worthington had orchestrated a lot of my parents’ lives. I checked the file again. It said my father had worked as an accountant but there was no mention of the firm he’d worked for. Had he worked for Ren’s father? It didn’t seem unreasonable that he would.
I checked the Worthington company website but they had no mention of past employees, especially from that long ago. Whether he had or hadn’t, I guess it made no difference to things now.
I figured laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling was as good a use of my time as anything. Even
with the immense size of this school, I’d probably run into Ren somewhere if I left my room.
Then my phone rang. Mr. Norton.
“I heard you and Ren were back at school. If you want to do some additional training, I’ll meet you in the scholarship room.”
“Why are you still at the school?”
“Because I’ve got no life.”
A few times when I’d stayed at school on holiday weekends, Mr. Norton had been around but I’d thought that had been because he needed to supervise me. I never figured he was a no life loser. I’d have to talk to him about that.
I pulled on my sweats and ran down to the training room.
“Hey, Mr. Norton...” I hadn’t expected Ren to be here. He glared at me. I glared back.
“So, things aren’t great between the two of you?”
Ren glared at me again then got up to leave. Mr. Norton stopped him.
Ren sat back down with his back to me and his arms folded. “I’m not staying here with her. She’s crossed the line with me.”
I sighed. There was always something with Ren. Some line I crossed.
“He’s angry because I want to find his mother.” Easier to blurt it out than dance around the issue. “He can’t let his stupid, stubborn self see that he’d be better off.”
Mr. Norton raised his eyebrows in a way that said “I told you so.” But I didn’t see the problem. Not one bit.
“Well, no matter what, you have to be alone in this school together so at least call a truce for today.”
“I don’t think you understand exactly what she’s done. She broke into my father’s office and stole files.”
I coughed and spluttered. It sounded bad when he put it like that.
“Yeah, files on me. Your creepy father stalked me all my life. I’m not too happy about that.”
“You were happy enough to take his money.”
My hand reached out to slap him, to shut him up. But I stopped myself before the slap connected. After what had happened this morning, maybe grief twisted his mind.
“Ren, that’s quite enough,” said Mr. Norton. “You’re the one crossing the line now. You know perfectly well that Cherry didn’t want your father’s money. She’s never wanted that. You’re saying things to intentionally hurt her and I won’t stand for that.”
