Chapter 38 Answers, Take One
ANSWERS, TAKE ONE
PRESENT DAY…
REN
Lilith stopped speaking several minutes ago, but here we are, still in complete silence. I have plenty I want to say, but since this is about Cassidy, I feel I should give her a chance to set the tone before I jump in with my complete outrage.
“Ferro,” she finally whispers her head turning toward me. “Isn’t Jessica’s husband a Ferro?”
“I think so, yes,” I respond, relatively certain this to be the case even though I’ve never met the man.
Cassidy leans toward the phone and asks, “Are you related to Jessica’s husband?”
Lilith’s laugh burst through the phone and then she states, “Only by choice, though, I did name him, too.”
It’s funny how such a notoriously blunt person can come off as speaking in riddles so often. But then she adds, “My daughter is married to Declan’s brother, Darius. Darius is old friends with Jessica’s husband, Matt. But I didn’t know him so well back when I met you.”
Cassidy looks at Conrad, her expression uncertain. “Are you my father?”
His eyes widen in surprise, obviously startled by her question, but then his brows lower, his expression slightly angry as he responds, “Of course I’m your father, I—”
She raises her hand, and he stops speaking. Then she says, “Are we blood-related or not?”
He flinches as if slapped then sputters, “Yes, we are.”
“How is that possible?”
“Miranda paid off a tech at the spunk clinic,” Lilith interjects. “And then used it to inseminate her own daughter.”
Cassidy raises a brow, appearing slightly disgusted as she asks, “Spunk…clinic?...”
Conrad coughs, frowns at the phone as he explains, “I had a cancer scare at one point and was advised to collect semen because some treatments could leave me sterile.”
Cassidy’s eyes widen and she goes to respond but Conrad puts his hand up. “It’s fine, Cassidy. It ended up being nothing because it was just part of Miranda’s master plan. She engineered the entire thing.”
“How do you know that?”
“Amber told us,” Lilith answers. “Before the police took her away.”
“So, Amber was charged?”
“Yes.”
“And locked away?”
“Yes.”
Cassidy falls silent for a moment; her face twisted with emotion. And then she says, “But she was a victim, too, just like I was.”
“Yes.”
“She wasn’t fit to stand trial,” Conrad explains. “So, she was placed in a suitable psychiatric facility.”
“Suitable, how?” Cassidy exclaims, her hands fisting in her lap.
“I vetted it myself,” Lilith answers. “I’ve kept track of her.”
“Then how did she end up released with no notice?” I ask confused on how Amber ended up on the streets without anyone knowing.
Lilith sighs heavily then states, “I’ve had a whole lot of mess to clean up over the last few years. I assume I was unreachable for the last hearing and then it just got dropped.”
“I’ll be looking into why and how that happened,” Conrad interrupts. “Not that it’ll change anything. “
“Did you know about me before?”
“No,” Conrad responds. “They waited a while before starting the volley of lawsuits. And by then they’d vanished with you.”
“How long did it take to find me?”
“Years.”
“And once you located me, how long did it take you to get me out?”
“Less than a day.”
Cassidy falls quiet, her gaze now on the floor. Then she asks, “How old was I?”
“Between four and six, mostly likely,” Lilith responds. “You were malnourished and severely neglected, which indicated you were small for your age. But no birth certificate was ever found, and Amber was a poor historian to say the least.”
“My own mother didn’t know my birth date?”
“It’s not that simple—” Conrad begins, but Lilith interrupts, “To be clear, Cassidy, Amber was never allowed to be your mother. She was another pawn in Miranda’s twisted games. The best she could do at the time was keep attention away from you, and that’s what she did.”
“By locking me in a cage in the fucking basement?” Cassidy shouts, hands fisted in her lap. “That’s the best she could do?”
“You listen to me,” Lilith responds, words clipped, tone sharp. “There were far worse places in that house. Places Amber had to survive in order to keep you out of harm’s way. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Some of Cassidy’s anger gives way as she processes Lilith’s words, and after a brief inner battle, she manages to whisper, “Yes.”
“And then,” Lilith goes on, her tone softening.
“At the first opportunity she had to save you, she pulled the damn trigger. She killed her own mother; do you understand that? Because I’ll be the first to tell you that sometimes it doesn’t matter how badly someone has treated you, how long they’ve tortured you, pulling the trigger on that relationship takes some serious mental gymnastics.
You don’t just do it and then go about your merry business.
It sticks with you every day of your life. ”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” I respond.
Conrad raises his brows at me, obviously appalled that I said what I said. I raise my hands in front of me, but then Cassidy says, “You seem like a nice person.”
At first Lilith says nothing but then she chuckles and replies, “I am the nicest person you’ve ever met until I’m not.”
“And once you’re not?”
“Let the bridges I burn light my way,” she deadpans, not one iota of humor in her voice.
Cassidy smiles and I frown, somewhat confused on why this makes her happy. I consider asking because why not, but then instead decide to change the subject.
“What was Amber doing here, Cass?” I ask, my hand resting on her forearm.
“I don’t get it,” Cassidy answers, staring at her hands twisted on her lap. “She didn’t act weird or anything. She had legal documents for me to sign. She even brought two copies. Took no time at all.”
“What kind of legal document?” Conrad asks, his tone alarmed. “You know better than to sign anything without proper legal counsel.”
Cassidy looks up, glares at Conrad as she replies, “They’re right there on the counter.”
She points toward the kitchen, and Conrad immediately gets up to retrieve them. He’s already thumbing through them when he returns to his seat, falling into his chair haphazardly. “What the hell is all this?”
“Some kind of payout from an estate.”
“Whose estate?”
Cassidy rolls her eyes. “How the fuck would I know?”
“You signed legal documents about someone you don’t know?” He retorts, waving the papers at her. “Cassidy, you know be—”
Cassidy leans forward in her chair, interrupting his tirade, “Let me tell you something, Dad, you’re not gonna talk to me in that tone of voice or you’re gonna get the fuck out of my house.”
Conrad’s eyes widen then he looks to me, as if I’m going to help him out here. I smirk, tilt my head with a lift of my shoulder, and he immediately recognizes that he’s on his own in this one. He falls silent, some of the fight fading, but he’s still holding the papers in his hand.
“I for one,” Lilith interjects. “am just tickled that Cassidy isn’t afraid to toss dear old Dad out on his ass.”
Conrad glares at the phone. “Too bad no one asked you.”
Cassidy tries to hide her smile and almost fails as Lilith laughs at Conrad’s petulant tone. They bicker back and forth for a moment, but then the room falls silent again.
“I only signed the initial paperwork, designating my own estate lawyer for them to go through,” Cassidy explains. “I didn’t give them any bank codes or credit card numbers or the deed to my home.”
Conrad snorts, the sound coming out strangely from him. “I mean, I didn’t actually think you did any of that.”
Cassidy smile. “You didn’t raise a fool.”
“Well, if I did,” he responds, a teasing smile on his face. “It would only be because the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
They share a fond look, the heaviness in the air slowly lifting. Silence falls over the room, everyone lost in their own thoughts, processing all that has happened and all that we’ve learned.
Finally, Cassidy turns to me and whispers, “I’m tired.”
I immediately stand, offering my hand to help her up. “Conrad, you can let yourself out,” I state and he nods. “Lilith, can we reach you if we have any additional questions?”
“Of course,” she replies without hesitation. “Get my number from Conrad. Call any time.”
‘Thank you,” Cassidy responds, leaning toward the phone as she comes to her feet. “For everything.”
Lilith is quiet for a moment, but then she says, “No, thank you.”
“What?” Cassidy replies, a little laugh escaping. “Thank me for what?”
Lilith sighs heavily. “For reminding me why we do this.”
Cassidy stares at the phone, lips pressed together. She nods, but says nothing, the expression on her face less haunted than before this conversation began.
I help her into the bedroom, staying back when she walks into the bathroom and closes the door. I go about straightening the bedding, tossing the extra pillows aside and making sure she won’t have to get up for anything.
Soon, the bathroom door opens, and she appears, slowly walking toward where I’m standing next to the bed. She looks tired, but just regular tired as opposed to the haunted tired she was previously.
She stops in front of me, all freshly scrubbed and brushed, a spot of moisturizer on her cheek where she missed rubbing it in. Smiling, I dab at it and ask, “How’s your hand?”
She lifts her hand, showing me the fresh bandage. “After further inspection, it’s mostly superficial. Just bled like a bastard.”
I squint at her, unsure if I believe her or not. “I’ll take a look at it in the morning and determine if it needs medical attention.”
She sticks her tongue out at me then says, “You missed practice again.”
I nod. “I’ll be running extra drills for a month at this rate.”
“I’m sure my da—”
“That’s not necessary, Cass,” I interrupt. “The last thing this old guy needs is his father-in-law trying to bail him out. I can guarantee Coach would extend my consequences just out of spite.”
She frowns but doesn’t bother arguing, instead sliding under the blanket and settling in with a long sigh. I tuck the blankets around her, leaning over her to kiss her cheek. “I’m going to get cleaned up. I’ll be right back.”
Her eyes are already closing as she nods. I turn off the light on her bedside table, leaving most of the room in shadows. I walk to the bedroom door, lock it, then head to the bathroom where I splash water on my face then brush my teeth.
Returning to the bedroom, I bypass my side, instead walking around the bed to check on her.
Noticing the drawer on her bedside table is slightly open, I slide it closed then turn my focus to her.
She’s curled in on herself, her hands tucked beneath her chin.
Pulling the blanket up, I tuck it around her, squinting at something she’s gripping between her fingers.
Gently, I give the end a tug, revealing an old worn shoestring, tattered and frayed.
My heart cracks in my chest, and I choke back a sob. Deep anguish rolls over me at the nightmare Cassidy was born into, of the trauma she survived for what equates to a fifth of her life.
Rubbing my thumb along the string, I give up on controlling the burning behind my eyes, allow the pain I feel for Cassidy to run amok. A few tears spill over, a mixture of sadness and rage that I currently have no direct outlet for.
Cassidy shifts on the bed and I blink rapidly until I see her peering up at me.
“I always thought my mother gave that to me,” she whispers, her hand reaching for the string I’m still holding.
I hand it to her, then swipe at my damp cheeks, slightly embarrassed that she caught me in the middle of my emotional outburst.
“You don’t have to hide from me, babe,” she murmurs, a small smile on her lips. “Your emotional intelligence is one of the sexiest parts of you.”
“One of, huh?” I tease, looking for a distraction from my melancholy because while a touch of emotion is fine, the last thing she needs is her husband boohooing on the floor in her honor.
Her giggle is muted, but it sends a zap of warmth through me, and I find myself smiling down at her. “What do you want to do?”
She says nothing for a moment, her eyes searching mine as if she’s going to find the answer there. But then she says, “I want to speak to her.”
“Which her?”
“My mother,” she responds after a brief pause.
“Then you will.”
She smiles faintly, her eyes closing on a heavy sigh. I wait a few long minutes, watching her body relax, listening for the even breaths indicating she’s truly sleeping this time.
Squatting down next to the bed, I brush her hair from her cheek, lean in and kiss her forehead.
Then I stand, make my way out of the room as I reach for my phone.
And I call Declan Hughes.