My Champagne Problems

32: Korbel Brut

'The real demons are the ones that capture the mind'

"When a question is asked, I expect an answer, child," Ryan's impassive voice bounces off the walls of the confined space. His eyes stare into the depths of my soul.

I gulp discreetly, before mustering up courage. Gradually lowering my hand that held the evidence of my guilt, I maintain eye contact with Ryan.

"Just came looking for my stuff," I justify nonchalantly.

His brow rises suspiciously. "And what stuff might that be?" He demands.

I shrug, holding up a framed copy of one of my debate certificates--my well-anticipated backup plan.

His eyes zoom in on the frame in scrutiny. While I use my leg to discreetly push away the paper I was previously holding to a spot behind me.

"I don--"

"Hope you found what you were looking for, Liv," Wesley's voice followed by his footsteps echoes through the room well before he makes his appearance.

Ryan takes a moment to assess the situation. His eyes drift between Wesley and me as he pieces together an explanation. 

"So I take it that she is down here on your authority?" A question Ryan clearly has directed toward Wesley, receiving a mere affirmative nod from said person. 

"I hope you found those certificates you came looking for," Wesley says now directly talking to me. I nod affirmatively holding up the frame for emphasis. 

"That's great," he says. "Anyway, we should head up the Lacroix family has come over for a condolence visit," Wesley informs us after which we all make our way back to the main floor. 

Looking down at my attire which consists of black sweats and an oversized jumper, I internally debate on whether I should change at the mention of guests. Although the very thought of having to be in the presence of more humans has my anxiety clawing at my mind. 

A gentle nudge to my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts. "You okay?" Wesley asks--a certain level of concern detectable in his tone. I just nod dismissively not knowing how to express my thoughts. 

The mystery of the name change on my birth certificate still indulged my curiosity, while part of me can't help but doubt myself. 

'Was I imagining the name?'

'But why would I, I didn't even know who the Ashfords were before that day 

'What if that wasn't the same certificate I found the first time? What if this was a different one?' 

'This is just confusing' 

The day only dragged on from then on. The family that came to visit I quickly learnt are Ryan's business associates and by correlation Enrique's as well, which resulted in the following two hours being spent on topics encompassing that with the periodic mention of the tragedy.

"How is the Hart family taking this loss?" Louis Lacroix asks quickly catching my interest.

"As well as you could expect," Ryan answers solemnly. 

I can't help the frown that settles on my face, which I am quick to morph into an impassive look. 'How come I'm yet to meet Mum's family?'

To my knowledge and from what I've gathered so far, Mum was disinherited from her family because she chose to marry someone they disapproved of.

Over the years though, I'd never heard Mum talk much about her or any family. It has always been just the two of us. The most she ever told me is that my dad died when I was very young.