Escape Route (Decode Sequel)

Chapter Three - Conspicuous.

“You know I wouldn’t bring him up if it wasn’t important.”

“Is he back?” Her voice was laced with concern but mainly anger, her head tilted upwards to get a better look at my face. I turned my own gaze towards her and almost stifled a laugh, shaking my head.

“No,” I replied. “Not quite.”

“Then I don’t wish to know. His name feels like poison on my tongue."

"Mum," I sighed heavily, running my fingers through my hair, the guilt inside mounting up. I didn't like to speak about him, but father - son love was a lot different than "soul mate" love. "Before he left, did he tell you anything, just any little thing about where he was going."

"He was gone before I woke." She spat out viciously. I frowned at the dead end predicament we were facing.

"Did he, um maybe leave behind any belongings?" Lennon asked cautiously.

"Just a load of old clothes." 

"Do you still have them?" 

Both my mother and I looked at her with curiosity in our veins.

"Upstairs, spare room." My mum muttered before sauntering back into the kitchen. I nodded my head towards the stairs signaling to Lennon. 

The spare room was opposite the master suite but varied greatly in size and decor. Unlike the completely modern master suite, it was old and bland, the floral print curtain made it look even more out dated. 

We both headed straight for the only other item of furniture in the room other than the bed. The doors creaked when they were pulled open and a layer of dust hit our faces earning coughing fits from the both of us. Lennon wafted most it away, covering her mouth with her spare hand and squinting her eyes from the dirt still lingering heavily in the air. It was more than clear that the wardrobe hadn't been open in sometime. When I was younger the spare room was mainly used as the junk space. I was never allowed inside in case I broke something. Of course I used to sneak inside when I was home alone but alas nothing interesting was ever there, well not interesting for a ten year old anyway. If I paid attention maybe I could have figured out where he would have run away too.

Lennon was pushing clothes up and down the rail, her face laced with concentration. She was obviously seeing something I wasn’t; all I saw was clothes that had all faded. She stopped fumbling with the rack and stood back, tilting her head as if she was confirming her thoughts.

"What?"

"Have you not noticed something odd about all these clothes?" She asked, raising her right eyebrow high.

"They're all old and washed-out."

"That's what you see initially but theme wise..."

"I don't know." I replied, completely stumped as to what she was getting at.

"They're all winter clothes."

"So?"

"So he obviously went somewhere warm hence taking all his warmer clothes."

"It could just me a coincidence."

"I know but it's just a hunch."

"There's a lot of 'warm' countries in the world too." I mumbled, running my hands over my face. Having a hunch wasn't good enough, we needed definite answers.