Chapter 11 Ophelia #2
Police officers are standing at the elevators, and a few minutes later, Mr. Higgins appears. I go to him, hugging him in my relief. He tells the officer who I am, and for a moment I wonder what I’d do if they don’t let me up, but they do. However, they stop Hamish when he tries to follow me on.
“Just her.”
“It’s fine. Just wait for me here. I’ll come back down as soon as I see my father. I promise. Where would I go?”
Hamish draws a deep breath in, and I know he doesn’t like it, but I don’t even wait for his response. Instead, I get onto the elevator and don’t look back as the doors close.
“Did Silas call you last night?” I ask Higgins.
He looks guilty. “He did.”
“And I’m guessing you arranged for him to see my father?”
“That wasn’t me.” He glances at the guard riding with us. “I just gave him Horatio’s room number.”
“Did he say what he wanted to talk to him about?”
“No. Just said Horatio would want to hear it.”
“And this is where they arrested him?”
“I believe so.”
The elevator doors slide open. “My dad’s confession, is it true?”
We step off the elevator and he draws me away from the uniformed officers standing there. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what the hell he’s doing. He’s not telling me much, which makes it very hard to help him.”
I nod, and I know already which room is my dad’s by the two additional officers standing outside of it.
“Come on. They’re transferring him back to the prison this afternoon. We’d better go talk to him while they’ll still allow it. But, Ophelia, one question for you. You were supposed to marry Ethan Fox. Silas Cruz—did he force you? I can help you if he did.”
I look up at him and consider his question. How do I answer it? I touch the back of my wedding ring with my thumb.
“It’s complicated,” I say, remembering how Silas had reacted when I’d used those same words to describe my relationships with my father and the Foxes just weeks ago.
How everything has gone sideways since. “But I’m all right,” I add on, not sure why, maybe to reassure Mr. Higgins. Maybe because it’s true.
“Let’s go in,” he says, taking my elbow and escorting me into room 414.
A doctor is taking my father’s blood pressure, and another police officer is inside his room.
I notice the chain hanging over the edge of the foot of the bed.
They must have his ankle cuffed to the bed.
It’s degrading to see my father like this, and tears well in my eyes because he doesn’t deserve this.
“Ophelia,” Dad says, using my full name, which he rarely does.
I drag my gaze to his, knowing he saw me looking. “Dad.”
I run to him, and the doctor steps away. When the police officer comes forward to block me, Mr. Higgins puts a hand on his arm. “She’s his daughter. She just heard he was stabbed. Please.”
“Fine.” The guard steps back, and I hug my father. I would have anyway.
I realize as he holds me how much I’ve missed him. How much I miss my dad.
A sob breaks between us and Dad rubs my back. I pull away and wipe away my tears.
“Dad. Are you okay?”
“I’m going to be just fine, honey. You don’t worry about me, okay?”
I nod, even though I know I can’t do it. “What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. Had little to do with me, I think. Just ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Who did it?”
“They don’t know. How are you, sweetheart? You’re still banged up from the accident.” He touches a bruise on my forehead.
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m tough, like you. Listen, I need to ask you some questions.”
He nods gravely like he was expecting this.
“I know Silas came to see you.”
“He did. And I’m pleased, Phee. It’s good you’re married to him.”
Mr. Higgins gestures for me to sit down on the lone chair and I do. He walks a few steps away, pretending to check his phone to give us some privacy.
“Who are the Carlisle-Bents? The Foxes, they showed me a newspaper clipping. They said… They said you kidnapped Mom, and I have a grandfather and an uncle. Dad, what’s going on?”
“The kidnapping, it’s not true, sweetheart. The papers sensationalize, you know that.”
“Tell me the truth then. Tell me the whole story.”
He nods, looking grave. “Your mom and I were together since we were young. You know that part. I worked for her family along with my mother. Claire and I, well, her father had other plans for his daughter that did not include me, and I can tell you now that I have you that I can understand. You want the best for your kids, and I was not that in his eyes. I was staff. She was his only daughter.” He takes a moment to pick up the glass of water on the bedside table and sips.
“Then she got pregnant,” he says, glancing away, eyes growing misty.
“And when her father found out, he wanted her to abort the baby.”
My heart misses a beat. I’m that baby.
“She obviously didn’t want that. She already loved you. Before she even knew you, she loved you, and she and I ran away. It was the only thing we could think to do. We changed our names and we got by until, of course, the accident.”
“Oh, Dad.”
“We weren’t legally married. We were never legally married.”
I nod to let him know I understand because this part doesn’t matter so much.
“We didn’t have the documents and were afraid we’d get caught. Carlisle-Bent never gave up looking for his daughter. After your mother died, I knew they’d take you from me if they ever found you, so I kept you hidden from them.”
I take it all in, and a glimpse of my face in the reflection of the window shows me I look like we’re having a bland, uninteresting conversation. Like he’s telling me what he had for breakfast or something. Not that what he is telling me is turning my world upside down as he speaks.
“Did they know when she died?”
He shakes his head.
“You didn’t tell them? You didn’t tell her father that she had died?”
“I couldn’t, Phee. I couldn’t let them take you away from me.”
“But you’re my father. They couldn’t take me away.”
“You don’t understand the amount of money and power we’re talking about, sweetheart. If Gordon knew where you were, if he knew you were the last link to his daughter, he’d have done anything to get you back, especially with Claire gone.”
“Dad, the fire. Did you say you were responsible to save Silas? You wouldn’t have…”
He sighs, closes his eyes. It takes him a long minute to open them again. “Silas didn’t set that fire, sweetheart. He wouldn’t hurt you like that.”
That takes me as long to process. “But you would?”
He looks helpless and a little sick.
“I don’t understand any of this.” I stand up, wipe the fresh tears.
A knock comes on the door and a police officer peers inside. “One minute. We’ll begin transfer protocols then.”
Dad nods, but his eyes are on me.
“Phee,” he starts, reaching out a hand to capture mine. I try to pull it away, but he holds on. “I know this is hard to take in, but I was doing what I thought was best for you. You don’t know them. You don’t know what they’re like.”
“You should have told me. You should have told me a long time ago.”
“I know. I know. And if you never believe anything else I say, believe this. I love you and I think Silas loves you. I think he has for a long time. Even if you don’t trust me, trust him.
Please. Let him keep you safe. And stay away from the Carlisle-Bents.
If Gordon is truly dying, Chandler will be dangerous for you.
More dangerous than the Foxes ever were. ”
Without knocking, the officer re-enters the room and holds the door open.
“Miss.” He gestures to let me know it’s time to go.
I’m glad because I’m ready to leave here.
I turn, but my dad squeezes my hand and tugs me back toward him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I love you more than anything in this world and I will do anything to protect you, always.”
I sniffle, unable to hold back my tears, unable to hug my father or reassure him.
Unable to believe him. Because any trust we had is gone.
Whatever his reasons, I no longer know what was true, what was a lie, what is true now, what is a lie now.
Those stories he’d tell me about Mom, were they real or were they made up?
Did she love him? Did she run away with him?
Or is it like the papers said? Did he kidnap her?
No. I don’t believe that last part. But the rest of it, I no longer know.
So, when the officer clears his throat, I turn and walk out the door without saying goodbye to my father. Without giving him any reassurances because they would be false if I did.