Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
TOBIAS
“Come in.”
The door to my apartment opens slowly, and no one is more surprised or delighted than me to see Rebecca.
“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” I laugh, but the laughter stops at the stricken look on her face. My heart takes a nosedive. “What’s wrong? Is it Isla?”
She shakes her head. “She’s fine. She’s with Maisie.”
I blow out a breath and will my pulse to slow down. “Okay. Then, what is it? Talk to me.”
“I-I don’t know where to start.”
I frown in confusion. She only left me a short while ago. What could have possibly happened in that time to turn her joy into despair?
She rubs a hand over her mouth and closes her eyes, as though steeling herself to deliver a killer blow. Like she’s leaving me.
“Wren. Tell me. You’re scaring me.”
Her eyes lock onto mine before she hands me a hardback book I hadn’t noticed she was holding. “You need to read this.”
I take it from her, turning it over in my hands. “What is it?”
A swallow makes its way down her throat. “Alice’s diary.”
I blink, blindsided. “Alice’s diary?” I parrot like a bloody idiot. “What are you doing with that?” Probably not the right question, but the first one that comes to mind.
“I think Isla took it when we visited her on Friday. That’s not important right now. What’s in those pages is.”
The last diary that popped up from nowhere was Mum’s, and that contained explosive information, which led to us finding out about George. After such a blow, we’re still working on stitching our lives back together. I’m not sure I’m ready for more.
“Did Alice know? About what George did to Mum?”
“Probably, but that’s not detailed in here.
Not the parts I read, anyway.” She wrings her hands.
“Please. I’ve earmarked the key pages. Just read it.
Tell me I did the right thing bringing this to you, because I’m freaking out over here, Tobias.
” She wrings her hands. “Like, seriously freaking out.”
“Okay. Relax.”
I lead her over to the couch. She perches on the edge even when I sit back. It’s as though she’s getting ready to bolt. Her knee bounces, and she keeps plucking at the skin on her wrist
I find the first page she’s folded over. At first, what’s written makes no sense. It’s when I move to the next and the next that my world implodes. The diary falls from my hands, landing with a thud on the floor.
“Jesus Christ.”
Wren shuffles closer to me, her warm palm landing on my thigh. “I’m so sorry, Tobias. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t not tell you.”
I stare at the book upended on my carpet, my mind racing. “You did the right thing.” I sound wooden, my brain scrambling to put all the pieces in order. “I need to see my father.”
I don’t remember getting to my feet or pitching through the door and hurtling down the stairs. It’s only when I’m outside Dad’s office that I register moving at all. The diary I must have picked up before I left my living room burns in my hands.
Alice.
All this time, it was Alice. George is far, far from blameless, but Alice took Annabel from us.
She set the wheels in motion that led to those bastards raping and strangling my sister.
And Mum. Xan always believed there was someone behind his and Annabel’s kidnapping.
But Mum… she didn’t leave us. She was murdered in cold blood.
My father isn’t in his office. I march to his personal living room and find him sitting by the fireplace, sipping on a cup of tea, a book laying in his lap. God, this is awful. Awful. Why me? I don’t want to be the one to tell him, but there’s nothing I can do. He deserves to know. We all do.
“Dad.”
He looks up, his wise, wrinkled face breaking into a smile. “Tobias. Good morning.” Just like mine had with Rebecca, Dad’s smile falls. “What’s wrong?”
My shoulders bow under the weight of a decades-old secret pitched into the blinding light. There’s no hiding from what’s about to come. “Everything.”
Setting down his cup and his book, he motions to the wing-backed chair opposite his. “Sit down.”
I do. A good idea considering how badly my thighs are trembling. I run a hand through my hair. “Can you get Xan here? And Nicholas. In fact, everyone should be here.”
It’s Sunday morning, so there’s a good chance we’re all in the house somewhere.
Dad, my wonderful, brilliant father, asks not one single question. He picks up his phone and messages the family group chat. While we wait for the others to assemble, I take the time to organize my thoughts.
Nicholas is the first to arrive, followed by Christian, Saskia, and finally, Xan.
My brothers’ wives are notably absent. I guess Dad must’ve made that decision when I came alone, without Rebecca.
I’m glad. It’s better they hear this from their respective spouses when the first thunderbolt of shock has receded.
I’ve no idea what Xan will do. He’s the wild card. Whatever it is, though, I’ll stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him, just as he and my brothers did last night when I needed them to support me.
“Looking a bit serious for a Sunday, Tobias.” Saskia flops onto the couch to my right. “Wet the bed again?” She laughs, while I can’t even muster a small smile. Her eyebrows lower.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It doesn’t help.
“Son, go ahead,” Dad coaxes. “Whenever you’re ready.”
The only way to do this is fast. I fix my attention on Xan.
“Alice is behind your kidnapping.” Shifting my gaze to Dad, I add, “And she killed Mum.”
It’s a cliché to say that you could hear a pin drop, but it’s true.
I scan the shocked faces of my siblings.
Xan could not look anymore stunned than if I’d punched him in the face outside of the boxing ring.
Nicholas’s jaw is on the floor. Christian keeps blinking like he’s got something in his eye.
And Saskia’s hand is pressed to her mouth as though she’s afraid of what might come out.
It’s Dad who speaks first. “How do you know?”
To a stranger, it would seem like he’s questioning me. He isn’t. He already knows I’m telling the truth and is asking for the evidence.
I pass him the diary. “It’s all in here. The relevant pages are folded over.”
Silence returns as Dad flicks through the diary, his features clouding with each page he turns. When he finishes, he snaps it shut.
“Alan,” he shouts.
A moment later, his butler appears. “Yes, sir.”
“Have Alice brought to me immediately.”
Alan bows and backs out of the room.
“So, it’s true, then?” Christian murmurs.
“Can I see?” Xan holds out his hand for the diary, and it’s shaking. That one sign almost breaks me. My brother doesn’t shake. He’s stoic, controlled, the one we all look to when we need leadership.
“She never left us,” Nicholas whispers. “Mum never left us.”
My throat is full of razorblades. “No.”
“This is… I don’t…” Saskia leaps to her feet, pacing the length of Dad’s living room, then pivoting. “Alice? The fuck?” She returns to her seat, her leg bouncing. “All this time.”
The sound of Xan snapping the diary shut brings our attention back to him.
My brother doesn’t speak. His jaw is locked so tight that a muscle leaps beneath his skin, his expression carved into something unnervingly still.
In his eyes, though, a storm brews, dark and furious, contained only by sheer force of will.
Each of us is silent while we wait, absorbing and processing the shock in our own way.
Twenty minutes pass, and there’s no sign of Alice.
Is this history repeating itself? When we found Mum’s diary, George got wind of what was inside and fled, taking his murderous wife with him.
Does he know what Alice did? Has he been protecting her all this time? Were they in on it together?
It’s another five minutes before she appears, escorted by Alan. Alice scans the room, taking us all in, then looks behind her, where Alan has stationed himself by the only exit.
“Alan said you needed to see me, Charles.” There’s a slight waver to her voice. “Is everything all right?”
“Sit down, Alice,” Dad says, his voice wooden. He points at the seat I’m currently occupying.
I get up and move next to Xan, who is doing a damn fine job of being a statue, frozen in place, but I know my brother. One spark, and he’ll detonate.
Alice tucks her skirt beneath her legs and sits. She knows something’s up, but she’s playing her cards close to her chest, feigning surprise and curiosity at being summoned on a Sunday morning.
Dad glances at Xan, and a silent conversation passes between them.
Xan drops the diary onto the table that separates Dad and Alice.
It lands with a solid thud. For a few seconds, Alice appears genuinely confused, then the penny drops.
It’s only a split second, but it’s enough to see fear in her eyes.
Gathering her wits, she schools her expression and continues the charade.
“What’s that?”
“You tell us.” Xan’s voice is threaded with menace.
Alice lets out a tinkly laugh. “Well, Alexander, I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”
His hands fist. He won’t put up with this for much longer.
“Okay,” he says, picking the diary up again.
“I’ll play your little game.” He flicks through the diary “Let’s see.
Ah, here we are. ‘Everything’s gone wrong.
It’s a disaster. He wasn’t supposed to escape.
It would be him, wouldn’t it? Golden fucking boy.
I hate that child, but there’s nothing I can do now.
They’ll watch him like a hawk. She’s gone, though. That’s something, I guess.’”
His smile is thin, his eyes murderous as they land on Alice. “What do you say to golden boy now, Alice? I presume ‘she’ is referring to Annabel. My fucking sister.” His voice breaks, his pain as raw as if Annabel and Mum were only taken from us yesterday. “Or do you mean Mum?”
Her fingers toy with the pearls hanging around her neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”