Page 118 of The Last Morgan
The gravel crunched beneath the Tyers, the sound sharp in the silence. “They’re here,” she murmured.
The front door flew open without a knock. Lillian stormed in first, face flushed with frustration. Her husband followed behind her, stone-faced and silent, his eyes immediately locked onto Lucy’s. Their teenage son trailed behind, glancing around anxiously. But it was their daughter who caught Lucy’s attention most.
The girl wandered in last, slow and unbothered, a bubblegum pop echoing as she chewed lazily. She didn’t even glance at the adults.
“Is Barnaby here?” she asked, her voice light, almost bored.
Lucy offered a slight smile. “No, he’s not.” Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed. “Figures. I’ll be in my room then.” And with that, shestrolled off upstairs, unconcerned, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.
Lillian told her son to go to his room and shut the door behind him, then returned to the living room and sat stiffly on the edge of the couch. Her husband remained standing by the door, hands in his pockets, eyes never leaving Lucy. He said nothing. Didn’t blink. Just stared.
“What’s going on?” Lillian asked, her voice tight with worry. “Can someone please tell me what’s happening?”
“Calm down, Lillian,” Lucy said evenly.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she snapped. “You drag us here, we walked into… this atmosphere, and you won’t even explain?”
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Lucy said quietly, her gaze still locked on her uncle.
His lips curled into a smirk. “She hasn’t got a clue.”
“A clue about what?” Lillian turned between them, voice rising. “What’s going on?”
“Get her out of here,” Lucy said, stepping forward.
“I think not,” Lillian replied sharply, refusing to move. She crossed her legs, folded her arms, and sat back as if daring Lucy to try.
Lucy held her stare for a moment, then gave a nod. “Fine. Stay.”
She turned toward her uncle, her voice dropping.
“I know everything now. About Jimmy. About the people you sent after me. Why?”
He remained silent, jaw tight, eyes unflinching.
“Who’s Jimmy?” Lillian asked, clearly confused.
Lucy turned to her. “Since your husband’s refusing to speak, I’ll tell you. Jimmy was one of the men sent after me. To follow me. Trap me and kill me, if needed. All hired. All traced back… to him.”
Lillian stared at Lucy, then at her husband. “That’s not true. That can’t be true. Tell her you had nothing to do with this.”
The man didn’t move. His silence stretched like a shadow.
Lillian stood and slapped him hard across the face. “SPEAK!”
His eyes flicked toward her. Then finally, he spoke.
“I was in charge of a high-security facility. Top-level. Research-based. Your father—my brother—he stole from us. He stole something… irreplaceable. The biggest find in history. Then he vanished. I searched for years, and when I finally found him… well he didn't want to cooperate.”
Lillian gasped. “He never told me any of this…”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen that way,” Richard continued. “But once the others got involved, I was out of my depth.”
“But you didn’t stop there,” Lucy said, her voice trembling with fury. “You let them come after me. You didn’t stop them. You didn’t warn me. And they shot Byron.”
Her uncle smirked again, like it was all beneath him. “The sample is important to me. I knew you’d lead the way to it.”
Lucy’s fists clenched. “Is that all I am to you? A tracker for your lost prize?”
