Trying To Endure

Chapter Thirty

SONG: J. Cole - Wet Dreamz

🌷

Derek Matthews

"I get that."

The Staff and some members of the Azrael are off for a few weeks, including Hamilton, Simko, Ersoy, Cox and Lin.

Vibrant-clouded skies, autumn clutters the aisles of the gardens, birds congested at the birdhouses and nipping the plates of food. Tanner crams the dogs' food bowls with one fish head, three pork kidneys, venison head, kelps, magnesium and zinc powder. He heaves open the built-in cabinet fridge, withdrawing a packet of beef livers. "Oh, yeah, how is your liver?"

Currently, the largest scar on my body is the transplant. "I honestly forgot about it."

Sometimes, I reflect on my younger self. The baby I was, unimpeachable to the lapse of prospering life. These blemishing harms (scars, drugs, alcohol) ruined that newborn innocence.

Tanner lowers the bowls to the ground. Duke and Atlas patiently wait. "Bon appetite."

The dogs immediately dive into their raw breakfast: Atlas's canines cracking the fish head, Duke lowering onto his stomach and munching the crunchiness of the liver.

Tanner washes his hands. "What are your plans for the orphanage?"

I flip the sausages, stacking them onto the five plates, each with their own fried egg, French toasts, bacons, baked beans, mashed potatoes, chicken gravy. "I was thinking if I wanted to make one, I could use ..." I wave a free hand at the interior of the Manor.

Tanner's brows vaults. "You would need Lord Cyril's authority."

"If Penny is right and he is a nice man, then he would not mind helping out orphans."

"Or you could alter Our Lady of Lourdes."

"I was planning to do that as well. Unless, if we somehow do claim ownership of the Manor and you want to live here."

"Do you?"

"I want to live in a small house." In the middle of nowhere. A dream.

"I was thinking of living in France after I finished my job as Prime Minister," he states. "Or Edinburgh. Wherever life takes me. So the Industry it is, then?"

I nod. "I have to do an apprenticeship first before I become CEO."

That apprenticeship programme lasts for a long time. I can persuade the directors to minimise mine for three years. I am, after all, a fast learner.

I hear the soft, familiar footsteps of Aunt Marlene, and our discussion is eliminated. She enters, smiling and murmuring gently, "Morning", in a messy bun, grey top and grey sweatpants.

Tanner and I trade a glimpse, heading to the dining table. A tense silence flusters the ambience.

The discussion with April, Zavian Malik and Treyvon Mensah embedded dire dismay. It was inflamed yesterday afternoon, when Tanner barged into my room, short-winded. "I think I am right."

"Remind me about what?"

"Bodie was killed!" He placed a hand on the doorframe.

I jerked upright. "What?

"He was killed," he breathed. "No one knows who the murderer is yet. Those conspiracy theorists are right. It is on the news. It is everywhere! Do you think ..." He gulped. I knew exactly why. "He definitely knew who the hell the Families were!"