26. Aria
26
ARIA
T he Uber dropped me off outside the front entrance of Nottswood Magistrates’ Court. I’d prepared as much as I possibly could, but it was impossible to fully prepare for something like this. Everything Tristan had told me made sense when I looked at it through Professor Watkins’ lens, but it was so much to get my head around. I felt angry, hurt, betrayed, embarrassed…so many different emotions were rolling through me that my head was spinning. But I’d locked them all down tightly. I couldn’t afford to show anything that could be perceived as a weakness. Samuel Smith-Chamberlain was a powerful, intimidating man, and I needed to keep all my wits about me if I wanted to find out the truth.
Entering the court, I was stopped in my tracks by a voice coming from the bank of lifts to the left of the reception area. “Aria?”
I glanced over at the receptionist, who was busy tapping at her computer keyboard while speaking into a headset, and then, making a snap decision, darted over to Knox’s dad. This way, I didn’t have to check in to the building and have to come up with an excuse for being here.
“Mr. Ashcroft.” I eyed the teetering stack of folders in his arms. “Can I help you carry some of those folders?”
His brows rose, but he nodded. “Thank you. That would be great. I didn’t want to make two trips from the car, but perhaps I should have.”
He pressed the lift button with his elbow, and I took a moment to scan the list of names on the plaque affixed to the wall so I knew where I needed to go. Second floor, room 202.
When we entered the lift, he cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me the reason for your unexpected visit?”
“I’m here to see the judge.” I met his gaze, daring him to say anything, and he shot me an amused look, so much like Knox’s that I startled.
“I hope you’re not in any trouble with the law.”
“Me too.” My words came out far more seriously than I’d planned, and his humour died away.
“Aria, are you in trouble? If you need any help, just say the word.” He glanced around us, even though we were the only occupants of the tiny lift and lowered his voice. “Be careful with Jack. He didn’t become one of the most esteemed judges in the south for no reason.”
“I…I’m okay. Um…it’s not the judge I wanted to speak to. It’s his dad. Tristan’s grandfather, that is. He’s here, right?” I faltered. When I’d contacted Tristan’s mother on the pretence of needing to speak to his grandfather about a graduation gift, she’d assured me he would be found hanging around Jack’s office, advising him in an unofficial capacity.
“Samuel?”
“Yes. I just need to speak to him about something. Um, it’s to do with the former secret society at Hatherley Hall.”
He inhaled sharply. “Knox asked me about that. I wish I had some information to give you, but my father never told me anything while he was alive.” The lift came to a stop, the doors sliding open, and he tilted his head towards the left in an invitation. “I strongly suggest you come with me. Maybe I can help.”
Could I trust him?
I hesitated until the lift doors began to close again, and he stuck out his foot to stop them. Then, I squared my shoulders and stepped out of the lift.
Knox’s family had welcomed Elena as one of their own, treating her like a daughter. Knox himself only ever had high praises for his dad, wanting to follow in his footsteps in becoming a successful lawyer. If I had to place my trust in any parental figures of the elite, it would be the Ashcrofts. I knew they were friendly with Tristan’s parents, but they were good, honest people. The Smith-Chamberlains, though…I hoped—no, I had to believe that they were the same, too. If Tristan’s grandfather had been telling the truth about one thing, I prayed it was that his parents knew nothing about what had happened.
So maybe if I gave Mr. Ashcroft a little summary, without obviously incriminating anyone—you know, since he was a lawyer, it could be my insurance if Tristan’s grandfather decided to bury me alive or something.
I continued to give myself outlandish worst-case scenarios in my head as I followed Mr. Ashcroft through the building, but it was only to try and make myself feel better. The truth was, I was afraid of what Samuel Smith-Chamberlain might do to me.
Tristan’s family were the most powerful family in Nottswood for a reason.