Page 103 of Deadly Secrets

I just came to see if I could find any evidence in my dad’s office. Maybe he kept something in the house if they were being threatened.

At least, that’s what the FBI believes. They’ll search my house tomorrow morning, but I wanna have a look around myself first.

Maggie

I wish I were there with you to hug you. I would have helped you search the house.

Me

Thank you, but I need to do this on my own.

Maggie

I get it.

Call me if you need anything xxx

Once I arrived home, Mrs. Bishop welcomed me and brought my luggage to my bedroom, but I went straight to my father’s office. I only had a few hours before the FBI barged into my house, and I needed to know if the people targeting me had anything to do with my parents’ deaths.

What if they believed I was also going with them to Cabo?

What if they planned to kill the three of us all along?

I was supposed to be on that flight but couldn’t stomach spending a week alone with them. My mom hoped that I’d change my mind, so she insisted on keeping my name on the passengers’ list. “Just in case,” she kept saying to me. Maybe they thought I’d be on that plane.

Goose bumps covered my skin.

I walked down the hall until I reached my dad’s office. I took a deep breath and opened the door. The moment I stood behind his desk, it hit me—a hint of musk, Cohiba cigars, and whiskey. A lump formed in my throat, and tears coated my eyes. I missed my dad. All I could think about as I stared at the two chairs facing his seat was how many times I lashed at them for sending me to Europe. If I could go back in time, I’d tell that naive girl to leave the resentment aside and tell them one last time how much she really loved them.

I sat on my dad’s chair and opened the first drawer. I took everything out and started going through every item and piece of paper.

* * *

Four hours later, I’d already searched half of his office, so I moved on to the bookshelves and checked book by book. I had already watched too many episodes of CSI, movies, and murder documentaries to know that some books could hide more than beautiful stories.

I smiled when I found some of our family photo albums. I didn’t remember the last time I’d seen photographs of my parents when they were younger, and I was a baby. There were pictures of my first few birthdays, holidays in South Africa, and school plays. I laughed when I found a picture of Ander and me. We probably were around seven and eight years old, smiling at the camera, dressed like cowboys, and holding hands. I took a picture and sent it to the guys in our group message.

Me

Look what I found *LMAO emoji*

Noah

Please tell me that boy is Ander *emoji with heart eyes*

Ander

Where the fuck did you find that?

I remember that day. You cried because I shot you, and you kept sobbing while screaming to your parents that you were dead and I wouldn’t play with a ghost.

Me

You always found a way to piss me off.

Zayn

Does that costume still fit you? I know someone you could ride with it.

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