Page 95 of Close Protection

She looked exactly the same but completely different, strange and powerful. All of her warmth had gone, leaving a frightening lack of emotion.

‘Daphne, darling, where’s my old necklace?’

I stared at her.

‘The necklace,’ she bit out. ‘Where is it?’

I continued to gape at her.

My mother was alive.

My mother, who I thought had been dead for the last nine years, was alive.

Alive.

As in not dead.

‘I don’t understand. How are you alive?’

She smiled. Not a warm smile like I remember. A cold, unnerving smile. Kind of like the woman in my nightmare.

Oh my gosh.

The nightmare.

It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a memory.

My mother killed someone in our basement.

Bile rises in my mouth and I start gagging, all the while my mother stands there looking completely unphased as if she returns from the dead regularly and often gets this reaction.

To be fair, that’s probably spot on.

‘It’s something akin to sleight of hand, darling,’ she answered. ‘Now, I really would love to catch up but you have something of mine. Something that I’d like back.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The necklace, Daphne. I need the necklace.’

‘I don’t have it,’ I said, shaking my head.

‘Search the room,’ she instructed her lackeys. ‘You know, your father said the same thing when I asked him.’ She made her way over to the sofa, leaning down into my face. ‘Like father, like daughter, I guess.’

She nodded to someone behind me but before I could turn around I felt a dull thud against the back of my head and everything went black.

Now, taking in my surroundings, I notice we’re in a study very similar to Daddy’s, with dark mahogany furniture and a large bookcase taking up the side wall.I turn to take in more of the room but gasp when I see Daddy in a corner, slumped against a chair. His face is completely swollen to the point it’s started changing shape, and he’s bleeding. From where, I don’t know, but there’s a pool of blood by his feet so it’s more than likely his.

‘Don’t worry, he’s fine,’ sighs my mother, moving over to her desk, leaning against the front of it, her minions following her as she does so. ‘He’s been given a heavy sedative so there’s really no use in trying to wake him up.’

Tears prick at my eyes and I will them away.

If my mother can be cold, then so can I.

I think.

‘Why are you doing this? I don’t understand.’

‘Your father had something, and I wanted it. It’s really that simple.’

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