“It’s no secret I hated my sister, she caused me enough problems, got me involved in her mess more than once. But after she married Haden, I had enough. She called me a few months after she got married, told me that someone was harassing her, I was pregnant at the time, and even though I hated her, she was still my sister, so I said I’d help. I spoke to your dad, he wasn’t thrilled by the idea and forbid me to do a thing and for once I listened. But my sister didn’t like that, she got angry and sent her problems straight to our door.”
My mother gives me a look that I can’t decipher, still I don’t draw closer to her. There is something about her that just puts me on edge. She’s never hurt me, but sometimes I could tell she wants to so bad. It’s why I keep my door bolted at night.
“Bad people Lizzy, very bad people. That’s all you need to know, I’m not even sure why we having this conversation. Just know that my sister’s death is definitely linked to your father’s, and I’m working on getting answers.”
“Is that why you got the job at Bray Arch International?”
Her eyes widen, seconds tick by and then she laughs and full belly on laugh, like I just spoke the most absurd thing. It’s the same time that the door bell goes off.
“Are you crazy? No of course not. That job is one I’ve wanted for years, the pay is triple what I’m use to and I’m more than able to support us now.”
She stands up as the doorbell rings once more, slipping her heels on as she walks by me. My back stiffens at the close proximity. I don’t trust my mother, even after her little speech.
“Not everything has to have an agenda Lizzy. We gotta live too. Make some friends, hang out, you’ll be surprised what a relaxed mind can accomplish.”
“Diana.” We both hear the strong voice coming from the front of our house.
“Lock up, I’ll see you later.” I nod in response and don’t turn when she passes me. It’s a few minutes later when I hear the faint sound of their voices and a minute more when I hear the car leaving.
I rush to my room, which is a sterile version of my mothers. Black and white sheets, silver blinds and a picture of my dad on my night stand, the only living proof it’s mine. Everything else is packed away in cupboards.
Most of my stuff I left in the brownstone house in New York, the tenants didn’t mind me using the storage room to keep it. There was no way I was staying in Liston Hills longer than I needed to. In order for that to happen I had to do one small thing first.
I was going to visit the dead, well a dead Gina Lorne to be precise. Sure, I had no idea how I was going to accomplish that, but I guess no was a time of any to officially meet my cousin Reagan Orniel alone. This time I wasn’t taking no for an answer.