Page 15 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

“Oh, of course, I should explain myself. I apologise. This is for a school project I’m working on. It’s about unsolved crimecases and why they remain unresolved.” I chuckled nervously, wishing I’d thought of a better excuse. “One of my friends is a descendant of Alessandra Alderidge, and since her family is still grieving, I wanted to learn more about the case to help them find peace.”

That was the weakest explanation I could’ve come up with.

To my surprise, the woman didn’t question my lie. She appeared too startled to even consider it. Looking from me to her computer screen, she typed something into the keyboard.

“If your project is about unsolved cases, you should find another one. Miss Alderidge’s case was resolved the week it happened—it was ruled an accident.” She looked at me apologetically, clearly disappointed she couldn’t help.

“I know, but there have been speculations that her death wasn’t an accident, and I’d just like to know more about that.”

I reached into my pocket and unfolded the papers I’d printed in the library, handing them to her. She took them carefully and examined them.

“Some believe they saw a man push her; others think it was suicide, since an accident seems so unlikely with a balcony that high.”

“Dear, it’s been almost fifty years...”

“I—I know. But as I said, I want to rule out the accusations made. It might help my friend’s grandmother find peace.” I swallowed hard and put on a sorrowful expression, as if the subject were deeply personal to me.

The woman’s expression softened, and she nodded in understanding. I almost felt guilty for manipulating her emotions like that—she seemed so kind.

Her gaze flickered to a nearby shelf for just a moment.

It’s in there, isn’t it?

The truth was hidden behind those doors.

“I’ll be right back, dear.” She disappeared into a room markedSergeant Forks.

For a moment, I considered opening those doors myself and running off with whatever I found, but it would be too obvious I’d stolen the files. Getting handcuffed for theft wasn’t on my to-do list.

When she returned, she brought a man in uniform with her.

“Hello,” he greeted, “my name is Arthur Forks. Amanda told me about your request, and I’m afraid we can’t provide any details. Besides, my father handled this case, and he was thorough. No need to worry. We didn’t miss anything, kid.”

That wasn’t what I’d hoped to hear.

I forced a smile. “I understand. Thank you for your time.”

Sergeant Forks returned the smile. “No problem. Have a nice day.”

He walked back to his office but turned to Amanda. “Could you grab us some coffee from Blair’s? The machine’s still broken.”

Amanda nodded reluctantly, clearly displeased at being sent on such an errand.

Before leaving, she sighed, “sorry I couldn’t help you, dear. I hope your project goes well and that you have a lovely weekend.”

Amanda’s gaze flickered to the shelf again as she apologised.

“You know, I could take a quick look at her file, just to see if there’s truly nothing else about the case.” She walked to the shelf and unlocked it with a small key on a chain around her neck. “I understand what it’s like to want answers. My niece died in an accident over ten years ago at this school. No one told me anything for weeks while the case was being investigated. It was agonising not knowing.”

Her willingness to help came from her own experience of feeling helpless.

“I’m so deeply sorry,” I murmured, genuinely moved by the pain etched into her face.

She pulled out a file and flashed a bittersweet smile. “Oh, don’t be, love. It’s been years. And as much as I hate the phrase, ‘time heals all wounds,’ in my case, it’s true. I’ve found peace knowing she’s safe wherever she is now.”

My heart ached for her loss, but I couldn’t deny the relief I felt as she began flipping through Alessandra Alderidge’s file, the answers I desperately needed might finally be within reach.

“That’s odd,” Amanda muttered.

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