Page 108 of Claimed By my Father's Enemies
“My God, I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?”
That is a question I want to avoid so I say, “Look at you. Managing Director. Very impressive”
Angela makes a dismissive sound. “Sit, sit. Let’s talk. I’ve seen your email. Big projects!”
"Yes." I sit. I fold my hands on the desk surface because I need to do something with them. "I have a meeting with the lawyers tomorrow to sign the papers over. After that we have access to the property."
"Good, good." and she launches herself talking with great enthusiasm about the possibilities that having a property like Cross Manor will bring.
The truth is that I’m barely hearing her. As soon as I mentioned lawyers I immediately thought of Adrian.
He called insistently, those first days. When I didn’t answer he changed to text messages. Pleading me to give them a chance to explain.
As soon as I could see in their faces that what Paula was saying was true, I left the party.
I haven't spoken to any of them since.
With one exception.
I did answer when William called.
I was still in the car on the way home, the night dark outside the window, and when his name came up I answered because I had one specific question that I needed the answer to.
I recall the relief that I could hear in his voice because I answered his call.
"Why do you want Cross Manor so much?" I asked.
I could feel his hesitation in answering.
"I deserve the truth," I demanded.
And with the iciest voice I ever heard from him, "I want to bulldoze it to the ground. I want to level that house to dust."
And I just hung up. I couldn’t take it anymore.
Carter called the day after the party. I let it ring out. He hasn't tried again.
Being away from them has been excruciating. Like there is only half of me existing. Many times I wanted to call them. To demand explanations. Or, just to hear their voices.
But what explanation can there be for what they've done? How is it justifiable, even if they thought I was responsible for the accident?
Angela says "—and when you have access, just let me know." I look at her and I have no idea what she was saying but I nod and tell her I will.
The meeting is over.
I stand up and we say goodbye and I walk back down the east corridor toward the front entrance, and when I push the door open, Charlie is standing on the path outside.
She gives me a guilty wave. I haven’t answered her calls either. Maybe I shouldn’t avoid her. But I’m too hurt to care.
I walk up to her. "What are you doing here?"
She has the decency to look embarrassed. "Shared location. Remember?"
The silence that follows is awkward. We haven't spoken in two weeks, which for us is unusual, except that nothing about the last two weeks has been usual.
"Did you know? Back then?"
She shakes her head hard, immediate. "No idea. I swear."
