CHAPTER SEVEN: WHY

“For the last time, Flame, what on earth are you doing in my room at–” Blaze picked up the clock from her bedside table, rubbing her eyes and mumbling to herself, before showing its face to him. “SEVEN IN THE MORNING!”

Flame rolled his eyes, “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“And you thought it was a spectacular idea to wake ME up?” Blaze grumbled, still sitting on the floor next to her bed, burying her face on the sheets in front of her.

“Well, it’s not like you were getting much sleep anyway,” Flame argued, sitting on the floor on the opposite side of her bed. “Your nightmare woke you up before I even got the chance!”

“You’re ridiculous,” her voice came muffled through the sheets.

She raised her head, running a hand through her messy hair. She drew a long, weary breath as she stood from her position and began walking towards her closet.
“So, why couldn’t you sleep?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about!” Flame rose to his feet, following her.

“Oh my God, Flame,” Blaze whined, growing annoyed. She opened the doors and stepped inside, closing them behind her.

“Just listen, Blaze!” Flame protested, standing outside her closet doors. “Chloe’s dad was here last night.”

“And?” Blaze’s voice came from inside. “Chloe’s dad is always here. He and Mum are always talking about political stuff.”

“Yes, but this was different!” He insisted.

“God, Flame, please don’t tell me he’s having an affair with my mother!” Blaze groaned.

“What? No–”

“If he is, I don’t even know what I’d do,” Blaze interrupted.

“Blaze–”

“Like, Chloe’s my best friend!” She rambled on.

“BLAZE, IT WAS MY MOTHER!” Flame blurted out.

Silence.

She flung the doors open, fully dressed, her face grim.
“Oh.”

***

Left. Right. Left. Right.

Her eyes defined purpose. Her mind focused on one goal. A clue.

Silver had donned faded blue jeans and an old t-shirt she borrowed from her little brother’s closet. With her blonde hair tied into a messy bun and a brown backpack on her shoulders, she headed towards the city library – where she hoped to find her answers.

She noticed a tall, red building come into view. The familiar sign gleamed beneath the scorching sun. It was like her brother’s second home – his own passage for escape. The only times Silver would visit was when she, herself, wanted to get lost in another world.

A hint of a smile touched her lips. It was her mother who helped her discover her passion for solving crime. Whenever they’d read a novel together, Silver would always put two and two together and solve the difficult cases before the baffled detectives in the novels would. 

Her face fell as she realised; she’d never experience it again. Her throat tightened as she swallowed hard, biting back her emotion. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Never again. 

She smeared the tears with the back of her hand…

Her parents were wealthy. They were loved. So why did Ashlynn kill them? That is, if she killed them. 

She didn’t know what their history was with Ashlynn Speed, but she knew that they’ve been friends with Alexandra since their school days. 

“Maybe they met Ashlynn through her,” Silver chewed on her lip. “Maybe they had an argument? A falling out?” 

But Silver knew that a small argument wouldn’t have two people six feet under.
“Maybe it was something else? Something not so personal?” 

She heard rumours of Ashlynn being a part of the Shadows – a criminal empire that once struck fear into the hearts of the people in the city – but none were confirmed.
“But the article,” she intoned. “The Shadows disappeared the same night Ashlynn died.” 

Maybe Ashlynn wasn’t just a part of the Shadows. Her frown deepened. Maybe she was something greater. Perhaps even the mastermind behind them. 

“But what did my parents do to them?” Silver squinted. “What am I missing?” 

The only mysterious thing about her parents was–
Her stare froze, wide-eyed and stiff. The business trips. 

At least once every month, her parents would vanish, leaving their uncle’s assistant, Mr. North, to care for them. The only explanation they’d given for their random disappearances was that they were on a business trip. 

Upon further investigation, Silver found no record of any conferences, expos or meetings abroad. They were hiding something. 

Her eyes narrowed, anger brewing an inferno beneath them.
“Well… If the police won’t solve their murder. Then, I will.”

She grimaced, sprinting towards the library.
The clue. She had to find that clue. 

*** 

He rubbed  his forefinger and thumb on the right  temple of his forehead, resting his elbow against the armrest of his chair. Sunlight poured into the room, contrasting the gloomy atmosphere he was experiencing. He had been travelling from his workplace in New York to visit his niece and nephew in Feu De Ville, making a quick stop in his London office.

He closed his eyes, frustrated and exhausted.

First, he looked up and glanced at his late sister’s photograph, lingering onto the memory of her laughter.
Then, he directed his gaze to her will, concentrating on its final lines:
“I, Vanessa Garnet,  hereby declare that all shares I own and all tangible belongings of mine be split equally between my daughter, Silver Marie Garnet, and my son, Timothée John Garnet. Furthermore, I also hereby declare that my ownership of the GCFS be split equally and shared between my daughter, Silver Marie Garnet, and my son, Timothée John Garnet. Finally, I attest that until each of the two reach the age of 18, their inheritance will be managed and handled by my brother, Victor Wilde.”

“Why Ness?” He mumbled. “Why me when you know I have already failed once before?”

He shifted his attention to his book shelves, each of them filled with files on closed cases whereby he had found the culprit. Amongst the endless rows of successfully solved mysteries, one file remained. A file that was darker than the others. A case where he might as well have ended the child’s life. The case of the Green family.

***

“We need a plan.”

“A plan? Flame Speed, are you hearing yourself?”

“Yes, I know.” Flame shook his head. “But I want to know more.”

“You’ve been wanting to know more for the past 7 years.” Blaze pointed out, shaking her head. “You think I don’t know about you breaking into Mum’s study, going through her stuff, sneaking around behind her back?”

Flame’s eyes widened. “How–”

“You’re not very good at being discreet,” Blaze looked away. “Plus, I’m a pretty good spy myself.”

“So…” Flame said slowly. “Does that mean you’ll help?”

“If I get to tell Chloe,” Blaze’s lips curved into a devious smile. “We both know about your break-ins.”

“Oh my days, Blaze,” Flame tilted his head up in disbelief. “I’m asking you, Chloe and Gio for help.”

Blaze furrowed her brows. “Gio?”

Flame stared at her blankly. “Giovanni Green?”

She blinked. “Who?”

“He’s been in our class since kindergarten?” Flame arched a brow. “Messy hair? Wears dark hoodies? He always sits at the back of the class?”

“Oh!” Blaze clapped her hands, pride in her voice as she figured it out. “The gloomy kid with no friends?”

Flame ignored his cousin’s comments, his eyes darting to the floor.
“What if we look at criminal reports? After all, she’s a criminal.”

Her lips parted.
“Chloe’s dad would– he’d never let us do it, Flame!”

“Well, we don’t need to ask him…” His voice grew softer.

Blaze shifted in her seat at her study desk, growing uneasy.
“What are you even–” 

“No one has to know...” He mumbled, loud enough for her to hear.

Blaze’s eyes trembled as she tried to keep her voice steady.
“If you’re thinking of hacking into the system, need I remind you that none of us have the ability or the skill to do that?”

Flame stayed quiet, eyes focused on the wooden floorboards near him. He reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt.

“Flame?” Blaze gritted her teeth. “Whatever it is that you’re thinking right now, please stop thinking it.”

He pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“I think I’m rather good at being in places I’m not supposed to be in.”

Blaze scoffed silently, swearing under her breath.
“He never listens.”

He gently opened the folds.
“And I think all four of us have some bad habits.”

“Flame.”

He glanced at the photograph.
“But I think our habits could prove to be useful, don’t you agree?”

“Please stop,” Blaze begged, putting her hands together.

“Blaze, we don’t need to ask Mr. Banker anything,” he stared at his mother’s smile in the picture, wondering about the secrets she was keeping then. “We needn’t hack into their system either. At least not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” she closed her eyes and chanted quietly. “Please oh please, just shut up.”

She opened her eyes and found her cousin glaring at her with deadpan eyes.
“Asher Speed, don’t you–”

“We’ll steal it.”