ANGEL ~ vance hopper x reader ~

⌗ 𓂃 𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅chapter 9﹅ ᰷ 𖥔༌ 𓂃⌗

CHAPTER 9
⌗ 𓂃 𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅missing boy﹅ ᰷ 𖥔༌ 𓂃⌗

day one of finney's disappearance.

"which of you were the last to see him?"

"me."

"and when was the last time you saw him?"

at the kitchen table, dad and I sat side-by-side, two police officers staring back at us. detective wright sat opposite us with his hands folded on the table while his partner, detective miller, stood beside him with a notepad and pen. trying to answer the question, I stared at the officer, my mouth gaping and shutting as I tried to recall the events.

"yesterday. leaving the house. no— dropping him off at school with gwen." I responded.

"has he been acting strange the past couple of days?"

"no."

"did gwen see him leave school?" detective wright was an older man, probably in his late fifties. his afro hair was greying and his jawline disappearing with age. he wore a grey and beige checkered suit with a matching tie that made him look a bit of an idiot.

"no, she didn't. they went separate ways to their friends houses after school." detective miller hummed and wrote something down in his notepad. he was of a similar age to detective wright — with a bald patch and a matching ugly, navy suit.

"tell me, mr blake. why were you not there to see your kids leave the house yesterday?" detective miller tapped his pen on the top of his notepad. dad stuttered for a reply.

"I— I was at work."

"you said your shift started at twelve. what were you doing from 8am till 12?" detective wright followed up.

"I... I was at the motel. I told you. I was covering for my friend marty the night before. he's sick." dad said.

"motel records said that nobody under a terrence or terry, let alone a blake, registered in on sunday night. where were you?" I looked to dad with a shocked expression as detective wright spoke. I felt my heart sink to my stomach. resting his elbows on the table, dad sighed and covered his face with his hands.

"is there a micheal johnson registered?" he asked from beneath his hands. there was a brief pause as detective miller looked through some paperwork.

"there was."

"I registered under a different persona... i've been seeing my mistress there." I thought I was going to be sick.

"what?" my voice sounded alien to my ears and I didn't even realise I was going to say something before it came out. dad sighed again and sat back.

"I know."

"you know? you know?! dad! you've been leaving me to look after the kids for months. months. while you go to meet a fucking mistress?!" dad's sigh in response seemed to be one of guilt — surprisingly.

"miss blake, if we may. mr blake, how long have you been seeing this mistress?" detective wright gently interrupted my angry rant. I sat back and let out a shaky breath. but I couldn't decide which was worse, dad leaving us for days on end or dad abusing us. at least when he's home he gets some washing done.