Page 15 of The Fallen
After my abrupt departure, I only came as far as Casablanca – a small hotel that takes cash. One night and free Wi-Fi were all I needed. I waited for Noah to grow drowsy, helped him onto the spare bed where he passed out, and then I proceeded to pack up my emergency bag and leave.
Again.
A hurried note slid under Mrs Alami’s door saw that the apartment would continue to be looked after, and then I was gone.
When he wakes, Noah will either stay to track me or go back on the flight he planned for us. I just need time to see which route he’ll take. He said he’d find me, and I believe that. But I'm not making it easy for him if he stays. Of course, there are limits to my abilities to stay hidden, and he may know the name on my fake passport. It would explain the wardrobe door. I was sneaking around trying to make him sick, why wouldn’t he be snooping on me? I might be a hacker, but I'm not some super-spy who can slip in and out of countries undetected. I’ll have to pass through borders, be asked for ID and my name for tickets. My only hope is to wait and see what Noah’s next move is. Plus, I don’t want to be running my whole life. My end goal is to go home. I just need to work out where Lewis is and how to make sure he pays for what he did first.
By lunchtime, I checked the manifest on the two possible flights back to London. Noah is listed, and I breathe a small sigh of relief at seeing the letters making up his name on my screen. At least I don’t have to keep watching my back now.
Another taxi ride passes time after packing up my bag. Back to my apartment now. With Noah gone, I can relax there and put my skills to good work.
The familiar gate and entrance calm my nerves that have been on high alert since leaving Noah just over twenty-four hours ago. Mr and Mrs Alami must have come in and cleaned already. Everything looks put back in place. No skewed covers or empty bottles of water on the side. I remember his sprawled out body, as he collapsed onto the bed. He looked so vulnerable – a contrast from what I know of him so stark and severe. More guilt rises in my stomach at what I did to him, but I tell myself I had no choice. Again.
Perhaps I’ll never see him again anyway. Although, I doubt that. And maybe he’ll forgive me for leaving him in that state, but I doubt that as well. But how he saw me plagued my mind at the time, more than the obvious guilt. Still does.
I take out my laptop and start running over all the things I need to put right. My cursor hovers over the search bar, and I can’t help it. I type ‘Broderick family’ and watch as the results all flash up. News reports on my father’s death, cast wide by Broderick Media. Plus, all the main outlets are running with the headline. It won’t do me any good, but I can’t stop myself clicking to read the words in detail.
The basic information is all that’s covered and that there’s an ongoing investigation. The death is being treated as murder, and there are currently no suspects. At least that means Landon hasn’t mentioned my presence or divulged everything that Ivy saw.
God, Ivy.
There’s a press statement from the Hertfordshire police listing me as a person of interest, which would make sense. I’ve not been in the country, and I’ve been uncontactable since the death.
I close that article down and scan through some other results. Photos of Landon and Father, and some more of Father looking all proud and in charge. All from the recent splash for the fiftieth party and Landon taking over the company.
It really was the perfect time for Lewis to cause problems. Transitions often lead to tensions, and he certainly got people looking into the way Landon operates. After Lewis first told me about Landon’s past, I did a deep dive into some of the recent business dealings and accounts. There were enough questions in my mind to voice them to Lewis. No clear evidence, but I said that there was something wrong with the Foxton deal. And that there had been others that seemed not quite legitimate, too.
The alarming reports and questions in the papers at the time were all my doing. All because Lewis planted that seed of doubt. And maybe because I’ve spent too long behind a computer looking for faults and flaws, I didn’t take the time to hear the human side of the story. God, we’re meant to be this strong, powerful family, but it’s all a lie. We’re not even true Brodericks. Everyone’s lying about something, and all that doubt has led to this.
I slam my screen closed, angered at the rabbit hole I’ve fallen into. This isn’t helping anyone, and I’m not going to bring Lewis to justice by scrutinising my family any more than I already have. I rise and start to pace, a torrent of fear and shame conspiring against me. The early evening sun glints off the sea as I watch out of the arched window. The world looks so peaceful. Tranquil, even. The breeze is fresh and vibrant, and the vista offers me a glimpse of a contented life. Here. In my little paradise.
It would be so easy to disappear. To run and find some remote village in some corner of the world where I could stay hidden and drink in views of the sun and the sea. But will it ever be over if I do that? Will I ever be able to relax, knowing that I’ve let this happen and that maybe Noah would be around a corner one day, waiting for me? Or worse, Lewis?
Noah will have spoken to Landon by now. Told him what I did. Maybe even recounted my story. I’m not sure about that last point, though. He said it wasn’t his business, but he was interested. Maybe he believed more than he let on?
I drift from my place in the living area towards the bedroom. I’ve not had proper sleep in what feels like days. The colourful cushions and sheets look so comforting, so I wrap myself amongst them, content, for the time being, to let sleep help heal my addled brain.
~
Everything feels better in the morning, right?
I don’t. The strange feeling that seems to have seeped into my marrow hasn’t vanished. It is like an internal struggle I’m waging. I get up, shower and stare at the closed laptop on the table. There's nothing to eat in the apartment, the Alami’s throwing the remaining food I left. So I leave for the market to get some essential supplies. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hide here again, but for now, Noah has gone home, and I have to act.
With supplies for mint tea restocked, I tackle the computer. Opening the laptop, the results that sent me spiralling last night are still up. And that masochistic side of me clicks refresh. A new result detailing the time and date of Father’s funeral is the first result. He’s being laid to rest at Tallington, at our small family graveyard under the oak trees. My eyes blur with tears as I think about the look on his face when Lewis pulled the trigger, how he fell to the ground and didn’t move again.
I squeeze my eyes tight as if that might help stem the memory from growing in my mind. It doesn't, and I can’t miss the funeral. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, and I won’t let Lewis take this from me as well.
A plan begins to form in my mind about my next actions. It will be a risk, but this isn’t something I'll debate with myself. It’s time to stop moping and questioning all the actions that led to this and take action. Lewis shot him. He needs to pay, and I can’t go home and face my family until he does. I’m never going to forgive myself for what’s happened. The least I can do is ensure my family has justice.
And safety.
With my destination set, I feel a little lighter, and look into how I’m going to arrive home. Will Noah watch my movements and be waiting for me? He tracked me here. Would he be looking into flights from Morocco, too? Logic would dictate that I have to leave the country, not go the way I came in, but as soon as anyone knows I’m coming back, I’ll be forced into answering questions I don’t know how to answer right now.
I have time, so I pull up Google maps and plot a course that will mask my movements as much as possible. Or at least give me a head start.
My job required me to find vulnerabilities and weaknesses in systems to prevent people from accessing secure and confidential information. Of course, my skills allow me to deploy them elsewhere. It might breach every code in the book, but sometimes that's necessary. And, I am trying to stop a killer.
Noah’s comment regarding a background check on Lewis made me feel like a fool. Because, with hindsight, that would have been the sensible and obvious step. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to find anything and admit that this really great guy who liked me and talked and laughed wasn’t genuine. What a fool, indeed. Stupid. Naive. And look where it's landed me. Look where it's landed my father. It’s all my fault.
