Everybody was having a wonderful time. I let down my guard, no longer feeling the need to pretend to be someone else. The only person I needed to keep up appearances with was locked in the study with my father and Dr. Abdali. I entertained the guests just like I normally do. Naomi barely said anything, looking bored if anything else; we seemed to, in a way, revert to our roles. While I made sure everybody at the party was entertained, there was a pestering thought in my head throughout. My mind inadvertently went to my father's study, more so the people within. My curiosity wanted to know just what exactly is holding them in that study—just what exactly are they talking about that's keeping them in that room for such a prolonged time. My eyes would often glance at the door, and I had to fight the urge to eavesdrop on their conversation.
After a brief internal struggle, I succumbed to the lure, moving stealthily toward the study. The door became my clandestine confidant as I pressed my ear against its wooden surface. The subdued voices inside teased with elusive fragments of a heated discussion.
Suddenly, the door swung open wide, startling me into an unsteady retreat. Dr. Sinclair-Harrington stood there, her countenance subtly revealing a sense of disquiet.
"Can I help you?" she inquired, her gaze momentarily faltering.
Caught off guard, I mustered a weak smile. "Oh, no, sorry. I was just coming to ask if you will all come to enjoy the party." Concern painted my features as I asked, "Is everything alright in there?"
"Yes, we're fine. I don't know about the others but I have to go now." She was walking away not wanting for her to go. I called out to her.
"Really? You're not going to stay a little longer."
"Yes, why don't you stay a little longer." My father approached her standing beside her. I observed her stern gaze on him. "Please consider the proposal we're offering you."
"There's nothing to think about, I've already made up my mind. If you'll excuse me I must leave." As Dr. Sinclair-Harrington walked away, I couldn't resist calling out to her, "Are we still meeting tomorrow, as you mentioned?"
She turned, her expression unreadable. "I can't. We'll need to reschedule another time, but don't worry I will keep my word. Goodbye for now."
My dad and I watched as she faded into the distance, my eyes caught Dr. Abdali in the doorway, silently witnessing the interaction blankly.
Just what exactly were they talking about?
"Aaliyah, come over here," my father's call pierced through my contemplation, startling me. The apprehension of an imminent scolding gripped me, I obediently approached him, all while trying to find a way to get out of the situation. But ultimately I resorted to outing my sister.
"It wasn't my idea it was Naomi, she was the one who wanted to switch roles."
"That's not what I'm concerned about Lia."
"Then what?" I inquired.
"About you eavesdropping. What exactly did you hear? Tell me and for your own good you better be honest with me." He demanded, his face was stern and voice unyielding.
Caught off guard by the severity of his tone, I struggled to recall if I had ever faced such sternness from him before.
"I didn't listen to anything," I quickly insisted.
"Aaliyah," he lowered his voice, "don't lie to me. I taught you better than that."
His accusation hung in the air, and I responded with an earnest plea, "I'm telling the truth. Why would I lie?"
As my dad scrutinized my face, searching for any telltale signs of deceit, I held my ground, my commitment to truth evident in my eyes. Despite the tension, I could sense a flicker of understanding in his gaze.
"I believe you," he finally conceded, the sternness in his expression softening. "I'm sorry for doubting you."
Relief washed over me.
Dr. Abdali approached us, breaking the momentary silence. "I hate to interrupt, but I must get going. Work tomorrow," she explained, offering a polite smile.
My dad, ever the gracious host, insisted, "You can stay a bit longer. It's time for desserts."
"I appreciate the offer, but duty calls. Another time, perhaps," she responded, her eyes briefly meeting mine with a knowing look.
As she departed, my dad's focus shifted back to me. The lingering tension between us seemed to demand resolution. At that moment, he took the initiative. He took a step closer, his tone softer, "I owe you an apology, Aaliyah. I'm sorry if I came out too harsh."
I reassured him with a smile, "It's alright, Dad. No resentment on my part."
He gestured for me to come closer, and I willingly stepped into the warmth of his open arms. The embrace was comforting, sealed with a tender kiss on the top of my head. "I'm so proud of you, do you know that?"
A playful exchange followed, "Yes, you always tell me that."
"Have I mentioned how much I love you today?"
With a teasing tone, I responded, "Hmm, let me think. Nope, it seems you forgot."
He chuckled, "Shame on me, how could I possibly forget? I need to be a better father than that."
I shrugged, "It's alright, at least you try."
"Not enough it would seem," he pulled back slightly, holding onto my shoulders. His eyes softened, and he spoke from the heart, his tone certain, "I love you so much, my baby. You, your sister, and your mother are one of the greatest things in my life. Without you three, my life would be insignificant. You all are what makes my life meaningful, shaping the man I am today—the driving force for my actions."
"I know that which is why I've constantly been trying to make you proud of me."
"Anything you do, whether it be great or small, I'm always proud of you. How could I not?"
"Really? Even if, let's say, I form a group of rebels and overthrow the government... will you be proud of me then?"
"When that happens, I'll be in the front seat, watching it unfold with pride." He smiled endearingly as he led us to the living room. "Come on, I believe we have guests to entertain."
"Indeed we do,"
"There you are, Naomi," my mother said, kissing my cheek as we got closer. "I don't know what has gotten into your sister. She seems out of sorts. I thought she would be happy today. This isn't like her."
My father and I exchanged looks, stifling laughter.
"What's funny?"
"My dear, let her be. She will be herself tomorrow; you'll see." He winked at me, and I snorted, to which my mother glanced between us, confused.
"I'm sorry, am I missing something that the two aren't telling me?"
"Of course not, what's there to hide about."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, woman, you worry too much. Take it easy; this is the night for the girls. Let them be." He said, walking away with my mom.
"Tch, you saying that is an insult to my profession."
I watched warmly as they bickered with each other while walking to a group of guests. Letting out a heartfelt sigh, I felt content at the sight of my family and joined the gathering. The time passed marvelously, and before I knew it, the party was over. After saying goodbye to all the guests, my family pitched in to help with the cleanup, lessening the work for the servants. Once the tasks were completed, I headed up to my room, making my way to the restroom removing my makeup before hitting the shower.
After my shower, I slipped into my comfortable silk champagne pajama top and shorts, adorned with my initials stitched in black on the pocket of the shirt. I secured my coily hair in a bonnet and began my nighttime skincare routine, all while jamming to my playlist. Finally, with some time for myself, a much-needed reprieve from today's busy day, my mind wandered back to the day's events. Graduation – the big day I had been anticipating throughout my high school years – had already passed, just like that. It's crazy to think that all those days of studying, cramming for tests, balancing extracurricular activities, and time spent with my friends, all led up to this significant moment. Yet, it fleeted by without stopping, denying those who worked hard the chance to savor the moment that makes up for all the time invested.
However, those moments of witnessing my friends accept their diplomas, alongside my sister and me reciting our speeches, were undoubtedly worth the effort. The inspiration for my speech was primarily drawn from the dean, taking a more inspiring route. It emphasized the positive impact this generation is poised to make in the world. Something I wholeheartedly believe in.
Having completed my nighttime skincare routine, I emerged from the restroom and laid on my bed, feeling restless. My mind naturally drifted from moments from graduation to the conversation in the study between the dean, Dr. Abdali, and my dad. As I reflected on it an uneasy feeling settled in. The fragments of their conversation echoed in my thoughts, and curiosity took hold.
What were they discussing?
Maybe it's not as significant as I'm imagining. Naomi did mention my dad knowing the dean, and he's friends with the doctor. Perhaps it was just a casual catch-up on old times? That's a plausible explanation, right? Still, there's a nagging feeling telling me it's more than that, especially considering my dad's seriousness when addressing my accidental eavesdropping.
Why does this bother me to this extent?
Without dwelling further on the thought, my legs absentmindedly led me downstairs. Glancing towards my father's study, the door was ajar.
Is my dad in there?
Walking to it, I knocked gently on the doorframe, announcing my presence, but there was no reply. "Dad?" I opened the door, peering inside, only to come across an empty room.
That's odd. He always has the door locked when he's not here.
I walk inside, closing the door behind me. The room is filled with the soft glow of the streetlight outside, casting gentle shadows across the elegant and sturdy furnishings of the study. Outside it was drizzling, the light raindrops panned against the window. As I step further into the room, I run my fingers along the smooth surfaces of the furniture, appreciating the craftsmanship. Two couches face each other, and a coffee table sits between them, adorned with tasteful decorations.
My gaze shifts to the desk, a magnificent piece made of rich mahogany. Its surface boasts intricate carvings, highlighting the attention to detail. Behind the desk stands a high-backed leather chair. In the background, a tall bookshelf stretches from floor to ceiling, filled to the brim with book volumes of various shapes and sizes.
Boredom came over me, I moved around the desk, my fingertips gliding along its smooth and polished surface. Lost in thought, I absentmindedly touched various items that adorned the desk—a small hawk stone figure, a stack of papers, and a sleek pen holder. Picking up a pen, I tapped it against my palm, the rhythmic sound echoing in the room.
Amid my thoughts, a sudden scratching sound jolted me from my thoughts, startling me and causing me to drop the pen onto the keyboard. The computer screen flickered to life, illuminating the room with its soft glow. Startled, I turned towards the source of the noise, only to discover the neighbor's pitbull we're pet sitting barking. I hurried to the double glass door, swiftly opening it as he entered, shaking off his wet grey fur. "How did you get outside buddy? You're supposed to be in the backyard" He jumped on me wagging his tail at me supporting his arms. "Don't tell me you dug a tunnel again? Wait until my Godmother hears about this she's not going to be happy with you" He barked once before getting off me walking behind the desk and lying on the floor. I followed him reaching down, I couldn't resist petting the adorable creature as it showered my hand with affectionate licks. "You're such a handsome boy," I cooed, a smile playing on my lips.
Giggling, I straightened up to grab a tissue box on the desk. As I reached over to grab a tissue, my attention was caught by the bright screen of the laptop. My eyes were drawn to the profile name, displayed in all caps: Ignis. I furrowed my brow, wondering who Ignis could be and why their account was on my dad's laptop.
"Who is Ignis?"
A phone rang coming from the drawers slightly opened, startling me completely. I cautiously opened the drawer, revealing a random phone nestled alongside a gun.
What is this phone doing in my dad's drawer?
The phone number continued to ring, unsure whether I should answer I listened in silence, watching the phone ring. However, on the final ring, an inexplicable need compelled me to answer the phone. I answered the call and then pressed the phone against my ear. Instead of a familiar voice or a typical response, the other end of the line greeted me with disconcerting sounds. Heavy breathing and groans of pain filled the airwaves, sending a chill down my spine.
"Andre, it's me," her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. I focused on her voice as the call was breaking up. "I .... it's been a while, but ... I .... tell...urg- ... ... alone?"
"I'm sorry, Mayor Jackson is not here," I replied.
"Who are you?"
"I'm his daughter," I stated, and there was a brief pause.
There was movement on the other side, and the call became clearer as the person shifted. "Am I speaking with Aaliyah?"
"How did you know?"
"Just a guess. Where's your father?"
My head snapped up at the door growing ever so anxious that my father would return and see me on the phone. "He's not here at the moment." I replied. "He's busy. If you leave a message, I can pass it on to him." There was a moment of silence as the woman's faint breaths suggested she was close to passing out; the rain started to pick up. "Are you okay? You sound unwell. Should I call an ambulance for you? If you give me the address, I can send help."
"No!" she screamed, her voice tense and then wincing. "No... that won't be necessary."
"Please let me help you. You're clearly injured, and you need immediate medical attention. Whatever is holding you back, my dad will handle it. He's the Mayor, I'm sure he can assist."
"That's kind of you, but going to the hospital is the last thing I want." I heard distant tires screeching. "Listen, I have to go. It was nice talking to you, even though I wish it were under different circumstances. I finally got the opportunity to meet one of Jackson's daughters."
I sat down on the seat growing worried for her. "Wait, you can't just go. You're hurt."
"You're concerned about me?" she asked. "You shouldn't be. You don't know me; for all you know, I could be a terrible person."
"That doesn't matter. You're someone who urgently needs help. Let me assist you."
"You sound just like your father," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "The world needs more men like him." Suddenly, a loud banging on the door echoed from the other side, accompanied by muffled shouting. "It's time." After that, something crashed, and footsteps followed.
"There you are," a deep voice called out resonating through the room.
The call ended abruptly.
I sat there motionless, bringing the phone down on my lap, trying to process everything that had just transpired. The door opened and I looked up to see my father entering the room.
"Aaliyah?" He noticed the phone in my hand, his eyes widening as he rushed towards me.
"What are you doing with that phone?" he said, snatching the phone from my grip and quickly scrolling through its contents. "Didn't I raise you to not meddle in other people's stuff."
"I'm sorry, the phone kept ringing, and I thought it might be an emergency," I tried to explain, but my father's concern only grew with each word I uttered.
"Tell me something, did you speak to the person on the phone?"
"Yes," I admitted.
"Was it a woman?" He inquired with intensity.
I nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down.
"Did you ask her who she was?"
"No, I didn't," I replied. "I was more concerned about her well-being than asking for her name. She sounded injured, and it seemed like she was in trouble."
He stepped closer, his grip firm on my shoulder. "This is crucial, Aaliyah. I need you to tell me exactly what she told you." The dog stood up in a defensive stance, barking at my dad. "Shut it, Bruno."
Bruno refused to comply and kept barking.
"Sit down!" He yelled at him, causing Bruno to obey, whining while laying down.
"Aaliyah," I shifted my gaze from the scared dog to my dad, taken aback by his outburst at Bruno. I suppressed my anger. In different circumstances or if it was someone else, I might have defended Bruno without hesitation; after all, he's been a childhood companion. My dad is fortunate that I possess some self-restraint. "Answer me truthfully. What did she tell you?"
"She didn't say much."
"Think, Aaliyah, think. She must have said something."
"Why does it matter what she said? Didn't you hear me? She's in danger; it seemed she was being persecuted by someone, and she sounded hurt."
"Did she give you any names as to who they were?"
"No." My tone conveyed frustration as he slowly released his hold.
"Can you tell me exactly what she told you? Word for word."
"Like I said before, she didn't say much. She just asked for you and said she had something to tell you."
"Did she tell you what it was?"
I shook my head, frustration mounting.
"No, our conversation was cut short by somebody barging in," I explained, observing him take a sharp breath. He rubbed his hand along his jawline, pacing in circles. "There was something else, however. The last thing she said before hanging up was 'it's time.' Does that mean anything to you?"
He stopped abruptly, seemingly lost in thought. "No," he said, not elaborating further. Then, he walked towards the glass doors, gazing out at the front porch.
"Dad, you need to call her back and help her."
"She can take care of herself. Don't worry too much. It's getting late you should go to sleep."
I stood there not bringing myself to do as he asked. I needed answers, why was he hiding another phone? Who was the woman on the phone? Who is chasing after her? Most importantly, why was she in danger? Looking at my dad he doesn't look like he will gladly share this information with me. Though his face doesn't convey any emotion, his tense shoulders are giving it away. There must be something I can ask something that can get the answers I'm seeking. Father was never one to keep things from us much less lie to me.
"Dad, are you involved in something you shouldn't be?"
He looked at me, contemplating his response. "No, why do you ask? Are you concerned about me cheating on your mother? I assure you, I'm not." There was the sound of thunder far away.
I scoffed.
What does he take me for?
"That's not what I meant."
"It's getting late, you should go to sleep."
"Father, you must tell me! Are you involved with something you're not supposed to? You need to be forthright with me. Please, Father, I ask this out of fear we're in danger. If you have involved yourself with bad people you need to tell us just who exactly we're dealing with."
"Aaliyah, my sweet child," he walked towards me, reaching out a hand to my face. I moved away from his reach, my gaze unwavering.
Dropping his hand to his side he cast his face downward. "I'll never put my family through any kind of danger. I'll take my own life rather than let that happen. If anyone were to ever so much as think of harming y'all. I'll end them" he said though I wasn't sure whether he was making a promise to himself or speaking in truth. "Rest assured Aaliyah I'm not involved with anything."
I waited for him to speak his truth. I knew he was lying, anyone can see. Yet I still waited offering him an opportunity so he could answer with honesty, but he didn't budge. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. Now go."
I nodded, walking away. At the door, my hand gripped the handle, and I cast one final glance at him, hoping he would change his mind and confide in me. However, he remained unwavering, staring outside, ignoring my prolonged presence; my father didn't move a muscle.
I see how it is.
With nothing else to say, I stepped outside, shutting the door behind me.
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Special thank you to hatters_madness and my other bestie for proofreading and giving me helpful feedback I'm eternally grateful for y'all's advice and patience with reading my chapter.