Page 15 of Cruel Riches

They were.

Alexandra. Sarah. Daddy.

Smiling, I brushed my hand over the bark, murmuring a ‘hello’ to the tree, as if it might remember me all these years later. Even though I knew I was alone, I swore I could sense my father standing behind me, laying an affectionate hand on my shoulder as he watched me, just like he did when he brought us here the first time. I could even hear his gentle laugh and see his green eyes glinting as he explained to me that his name wasn’t actually ‘Daddy’, which I stubbornly refused to believe when I was a child.

Suddenly I missed him more than ever. The pain was acute, almost physical, leaving me breathless. I wanted more than anything to be able to wrap my arms around him and tell him I loved him, and for him to hug me back and tell me that everything was fine.

But it wasn’t fine. It hadn’t been for a decade.

Grief rose up in my chest, and I sank down beside the tree, sucking down air as I tried to recall the very last time I saw my dad.

The last words he ever spoke to me were probably something mundane and relatively forgettable. ‘Don’t forget your coat, Lexie!’ or ‘Should we get hot chocolate later?’

After all, how could he have known they would be his last words to me? How could he have known he would be arrested out of the blue, charged, and killed within the following two weeks? And how could we have known they wouldn’t let us visit him in prison?

When he realized what was happening back then, he wrote letters to me, my sister, and Mom, and those were what I considered to be his true last words, even though he never spoke them out loud.

As well as the letters he wrote for us to read straight away, he also wrote extra letters for his lawyer to give to Sascha and me on our sixteenth birthdays. Sascha’s was much the same as the first one she received—a letter declaring his love for her and all the wonderful things he thought of her, along with a few pieces of fatherly advice for the future.

Mine was a little different. After reading it almost every day for the last three years, I knew every word by heart.

My darling Alexandra,

Happy 16th birthday! I hope you’re having a fantastic day.

I wish I could be there to celebrate what a wonderful young woman you’ve become, but unfortunately, if this letter has made it to you, it’s because I’m gone. I also wish I could sit here and write out all the fatherly advice that I wanted to give you on such a momentous occasion, but I am short on time and paper, so this will have to do.

I want to ask you to do something for me, darling.

No doubt you’re wondering why I’m asking you and not your sister or mother. Please allow me to explain. It’s not because I love or trust them any less—of course I don’t—it’s because of what I see in the three of you.

Your sister has always taken after your mom: imaginative, creative, passionate, sensitive, and gentle. My two artists.

You were always like a mini-me. A budding journalist. Inquisitive, resourceful, decisive, and hard-nosed. You don’t take no for an answer, and you don’t give up. Now that you’re no longer a child, I have a feeling those qualities will be even stronger within you.

That’s why I want to ask this favor of you (and of course, feel free to ask your mother and sister for help if you need it. This doesn’t have to be a secret. I just have a feeling that you will be the one to see this through to the end due to that wonderful stubborn streak you inherited from me).

Here is my request.

As you continue to grow and think about your future, don’t give up on me or my case. Look at what happened to me, and other people like me, and find out why things like that end up happening in this world. Get those answers for yourself, and then do what you want with that information to make things right for everyone. After all, people should get what they deserve in life, shouldn’t they?

I know I am being very vague, but I think you understand what I am saying by now.

I wish I could help by telling you where to begin your studies and where to look for more information. Unfortunately, I can’t be specific about anything, because I know the guards are reading these letters before they take them from me, and I’m sure anything with the ‘wrong’ sort of material/information will be burned as per the request of those who put me here (Hello, guards. Nothing to see here—just a letter with some future career advice for my beautiful daughter!).

Have a wonderful life, darling. I love you more than anything, and I wish you nothing but success and happiness.

Love,

Dad

PS. Please help your mom take care of the books from my study at home. I asked her to hold onto them for you a long time ago, even if you were forced to move away from Avalon. Whenever you get a chance, please read the books as well. There should be lots of educational things in those texts that will help you with issues you might run into as you get older and learn more about the world.

PPS. Remember, if you’re ever feeling completely lost, look up to the sky, think of me, and let the stars guide you home.

After I read that letter for the first time, I understood why he chose to keep those words from me until I was sixteen. If I read them as a nine-year-old, I wouldn’t have been able to read between the lines and figure out what he meant.

It seemed clear when I was older, though. He wanted me to investigate what happened to him and bring the responsible parties to justice, and he’d left relevant notes that I could use in the notebooks he once kept in his study.

---