Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
Alani
Terrified after speaking to Damon, I’d sat for an hour in the mall before heading home.
What is happening? Suddenly my entire world has been sent off kilter.
I don’t know who to believe and my concern into my own mental health is increasing.
Some of the things Damon mentioned have happened to me.
At college a few times I wished people were dead but actually murdering them never entered my mind.
Maybe the trigger that makes psychopaths murder hasn’t happened to me yet?
Yesterday, I needed an excuse to come home and when I arrived, I explained I’d had a disagreement with Isabelle over the truthfulness of the book.
My parents were ecstatic to see me and I admit it felt nice being welcomed.
I’m not sure how I feel about the Boswells.
I didn’t call them to say I’d be away for the night and no one has called me.
Although I do feel like I have a friendship with Linc and Lucas, I’m suspicious of Oliver, and Mia is so far out there, she is halfway back.
I can’t read her. It’s as if she’s wrapped in a cloak that prevents anyone discovering her truth.
I’m coming to believe that Isabelle has surrounded her entire life with lies and can’t distinguish the truth any longer.
Does she even remember encouraging Rachel to go to the cops to tell them everything she remembered?
If Isabelle decides to bring it up again and wants it in the book, how am I going to quash it?
Another thought enters my mind. If Damon is watching us and he is a psychopathic killer, perhaps the entire Boswell family are in danger?
Isabelle won’t be able to tell me anything if she’s dead, will she?
“You’re quiet.” Willow peers at me over the rim of her cup at breakfast on Sunday morning. “Is something wrong? Didn’t you sleep well?”
I move my attention to buttering a slice of toast and adding a good helping of strawberry preserve. “I’m fine. This jam is incredible.”
“I made it.” Willow smiles at me. “I buy strawberries from the local roadside stand each year and put up a ton of preserves. There’s nothing more satisfying.
” She clears her throat. “Do you have plans for today? You’re not working, are you?
We thought we’d have lunch at the club. Would you like to come? ”
I smile and shake my head. “I’d love to but I have an appointment.”
“You never mentioned it before.” Willow frowns.
I don’t want to discuss it and shrug. “It’s not something you need to be involved in. Really it isn’t.”
“Is it a secret?” Willow inclines her head and drops her eyelashes. It’s one of those moves she makes when she doesn’t want people to see what she’s thinking.
I give her a long stare as I make up my mind whether I should divulge exactly what I’ve been doing.
I’d always considered her to be a good, kind and loving mom, but it’s difficult to get over the fact that she’d lied to me all my life.
They could have told me earlier so I could have got used to it.
Not the entire truth of course but the fact I’d been adopted shouldn’t have been such a big secret.
When I was at school, two of my friends had been adopted.
They always used to say they’d been chosen by their parents and they always believed it made them special.
Their parents dealt with the matter early in their lives.
So, coming to terms with what my parents had done to me and the timing of them telling me still has a sour taste in my mouth.
I know I should get over it, and trust me I’ve tried, but it’s always there in the background eating away at me, all through my time in college and since living in New York, and it seems to be back again now.
I sigh and look at her. “You won’t like to hear what I’m going to tell you.
I’ve discovered the name of my mother and would you believe that she was the woman murdered by a crazy fan of Linc Boswell, who set the murder scene to mimic his song ‘Black Valentine’?
I’ve always said that we’re all connected in some way.
It seems my mother fell on hard times and probably worked as a sex worker at the time of her death.
I’m going to visit her sister today. I thought it would be good to find a little more information about my mom.
I haven’t really worried about it previously but since I’ve been doing research on people’s lives, I realize that I know nothing about my own. ”
“Sam mentioned that you gave him the third degree about your father.” Willow’s eyes show deep sadness.
I notice in that moment the strands of silver in her hair and how thin her arms have become.
“You know we wanted to tell you for years but you were such an inquisitive child that by the time you reached high school, we were concerned you’d have searched for your parents.
We didn’t want you to be influenced by them in any way.
We wanted you to make your own way in life without the burden of knowing your father was a convicted rapist and your mother ended up on the streets.
” She gives me a direct stare and her hand reaches out as if to touch mine and then pulls back.
“We had no idea you would take it so hard and that you believed we’d lied to you all your life. ”
I shake my head with disbelief. “But you did lie to me all my life. You didn’t need to tell me their names.
You could have just told me the files were sealed, which would have been a half-truth, wouldn’t it?
I could have handled knowing I’d been adopted.
” I push both hands through my hair and stare at her.
“You were both the most caring and loving parents any girl could have. I still care for you both but I can’t trust you.
” I meet her gaze across the table. My hands shake as I lift my coffee cup.
I don’t want to hurt her. To me, deep down inside she’s still my mom.
“I feel I can trust Linc more than I can my own family. That’s really pathetic, isn’t it? ”
“He’s just using his charm on you, Alani.
” Willow leans back in her chair and throws both her arms in the air.
“It’s an act. Trust me, I’ve known those people for a long time and you can’t believe a word they say.
To be honest I don’t believe they know what the truth is anymore, they’ve told so many lies. ”
I rarely talk about my clients, unless it is to fact-check an incident but I look at Willow and find myself nodding.
“I figure Isabelle actually writes down what she’s going to do the next day and then acts it out.
Every time I interview her it’s as if she’s playing a part.
It’s a challenge to get anything of interest out of her.
Her entire world circles around her. It’s as if she’s not married to a famous rock god.
She’s fiercely jealous of him and he’s loyal to her, as if he’s oblivious to the narcissist she’s become.
He’s so easy going, most of the time he just rolls with the punches.
I’ve come to the conclusion he believes a happy wife means a happy life.
” I finish my coffee and push the cup away.
“Well, I must go or I’ll be late. I’ll be staying here tonight and I’ll be home for dinner if you’re not going out. ”
“Dinner it is.” Willow nods and pulls wisps of hair from her face. I watch as a breeze catches them. She has an ageless beauty. If she’d had a daughter, no doubt she would have been elegant just like her.