Page 6 of Broken Truths

I’d love to dismiss the idea outright but in reality, I’ve placed myself in a position that my sister didn’t even get out of, and she was ten times smarter than me. If any Astor could’ve made it through the Knights’ snare, it was her.

Alaric gives me one of his discerning gazes, and I attempt to smile for him, but I’m not sure I succeed. The two, short lines between his eyes pinch deeper like caverns but he turns away as we approach Jarvis so I can’t scrutinize him anymore.

Though we’re not living here at the moment, the stone steps are salted and cleared from the dusting of snow we got overnight. The security system still sounds when Leo shoves the huge door open, the creaking hinges echoing throughout.

Leo stayed here a couple of nights right after Oliver found his teapot broken to pieces all over the floor, along with so many other things. Everything has been cleaned now, as if it never happened. For Oliver’s sake, I wish it hadn’t. He was already wary of Leo but, of course, that intensified.

To Leo’s credit, he explained it all. Oliver hasn’t outwardly accepted any apologies from him, but he has allowed him to be in his presence without sniping too badly. Now that the dust—or should I say broken teapot—has settled, we’ve been able to move forward with making a plan.

The problem, however, is that there are a lot of moving parts.

We just get settled into the Hall when the door opens again and Oliver moves inside. He looks unabashedly handsome dressed in a pair of jeans with a vest open to a Henley underneath. As soon as he walks in, I gravitate toward him. He’s like my sun in a lot of ways. He takes one look at my face, pinches his lips, then opens his arms wide. I fold into him, and he mumbles, “Sorry, love,” into the top of my head.

Every day I go to the café, and every day I expect to see that bastard barista, but I don’t. For hours, I plan everything I want to say for the moment he shows up, and every time, they remain inside me and fester. Unspoken words always sit like heavy boulders in the heart. One day, those thoughts are all going to spew out in a volcano-like eruption and mow down everyone in their path.

I squeeze him one last time and stand back. Oliver had his own little outing today. We thought it best if he sat down with Holly, the girl who’s trying to help us, and her friend with the selfie by himself. Not only could he use his charm on them, seeing as he’s a real-life prince, but we also thought it would be too difficult for them if I was there, and Alaric and Leo would also distract. If they grew up around here, they definitely know who those two are. And you’re either fans or you’ve used their likeness in voodoo dolls, sticking needles into them for sport. Since we couldn’t be sure of which, Oliver went alone.

“So?” Alaric asks.

Oliver scans the room. I swear, for a brief moment he peers longingly into the kitchen where he stored his teapot before he moves on quickly. He takes a small electronic device out of his pocket. “I recorded it.” He throws it to Alaric but Leo intercepts. Oliver gives him a scathing look. “But if you ask me, there’s nothing of importance. The girls were too far away to hear what they were arguing about. Both girls said they’d never seen the guy before, and they haven’t seen him after either.”

My heart sinks a little but, in truth, we’re lucky to have the one photograph Holly’s friend took while at the castle. If it weren’t for that, we wouldn’t know who Dee was arguing with out on the docks. A part of me still thought it was Keegan, even though he’d denied it.

“Still no posts on his Facebook page,” Leo says, pocketing the device. Luckily, he decides—wisely—not to push Oliver on his assumptions. Though, I have no doubt that he’ll be listening to the audio file on his own when he has a minute.

Leo has designated himself the master, head and chief, boss supreme of our little operation we’ve got going on. Out of all of us, he certainly has the most experience dealing with fucked-up shit.

He eyes us. “I got some friends attempting to do some hacker shit to see if they can trace him through his online profiles. But we have to assume that he’s not coming back to campus.”

“Can they hack into the café’s records? Maybe he left a forwarding address for his checks?” Alaric suggests.

“Already on it,” Leo says. He turns to me. “Any word on Keegan?”

I lift my shoulders. I’ve called my mother multiple times but haven’t heard back, which isn’t odd. She could be doing any number of things. We only want to know where Keegan is, if anyone knows. He could be saving us both the trouble by disappearing for a while… Being married off to my sister’s ex-fiancé is something that I don’t want to have to worry about in the midst of everything else. On the other hand, we need to talk to him about his dad. Leon Forbes is a piece of shit but what else is he capable of?

Since I don’t have answers, that only leaves one more thing—the most daunting thing on the checklist we’ve made ourselves. If Dee’s death came on the heels of her final assessment as a Fledgling, we need to know who was at that assessment. The Knights will have records. Sir Franklin will definitely know, but as far as how to get that information without suspicion, none of us have come up with an answer yet.

My father sits too precariously for me to be comfortable asking. One wrong question might send him over the edge. Even finding out that he helped orchestrate getting Dee into the Knights, which subsequently ended up killing her, might be too much for him to bear right now.

He might be our easiest in, but my family has seen far too much death at the moment to go in like a rabid dog looking for answers. I don’t want to be the reason my father falls into an early grave.

I don’t know how much longer I can coddle him, though.

Peering at Alaric and Leo, I ask, “Have you guys thought about who would’ve been at her assessment?”

Leo pulls out his phone. “I made a list. We can’t verify it, but it’s something to go on.” He taps his phone a few times and then starts reading names. “Franklin Jarvis. Barclay…” The list goes on and on. All last names that are as familiar to me as my own.

When he finishes, Astor isn’t on the list. My whole body sighs with relief. I thought that might be the case, but the doubt nagged at me... My father could have been there but not have said anything. Until Dee died, he was a mute when it came to the Knights. But that night at our house, he did open up about a few things. However, if he’d held back on the fact that he was actually there… I’m not sure I could forgive that betrayal.

As if reading my thoughts, Alaric speaks up. “I agree. Astor wouldn’t have been there because they wouldn’t have wanted him to sway the decision in Delilah joining one way or the other. The other names are the most plausible.”

“Can you talk to your dad?” Oliver asks Alaric.

Alaric’s jaw tightens. “My father hasn’t spoken to me since I cost the family business a great deal of money. But even if he was, he wouldn’t say anything about another Fledgling’s assessment.”

“Unless he was boasting,” Leo prompts. Alaric turns his head, assessing those words. “My grandfather would, too. They’d say something amongst each other if they were having a laugh about it.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m so glad my sister’s death is funny.”

---