Three words flashed up from the coroner’s report, burning into my brain. Breathing deeply through the nausea until I was more or less sure I wasn’t about to lose the contents of my stomach, I stared at the screen, willing it to change.
Suicide. Opiate overdose.
Had my dad known? He must have. I needed to speak to him, the sooner the better.
The day I’d found out about my mum rose in my mind, and I leaned back in my chair, lost in the memory.
“Weston?” My dad’s terse voice sounded through my phone. “Be ready to leave in five minutes. I’m on my way.”
The call abruptly cut off, and I stared down at my now-blank screen. “Sorry, mate.” I turned to my friend Rumi. “My dad’s coming to pick me up.”
“What? We haven’t even played my new computer game yet.”
“I know. Sorry.” I shrugged, annoyance filling me. “I don’t know why, but you know what my dad’s like. No point arguing with him.”
Rumi’s mouth twisted. “Yeah. See you at school on Monday, I guess.” He kicked at the grass dejectedly for a minute before his face brightened. “Quick one-on-one while we’re waiting for your dad?”
I hopped off the wall I’d been sitting on and ran to the football lying on the grass before Rumi could get to it. He laughed, racing after me, and I lost myself in our competitive game.
For four minutes, everything was fine. Normal.
Then my dad showed up, and everything changed.
I buried my head in my hands, trying to think about anything except that day.
I couldn’t stop the memories from assaulting me.
The gates to our house were wide open, flashing lights from police cars and an ambulance lighting up the growing darkness, illuminating the stone walls of the house and turning them blue.
“D-dad? What’s going on?” My voice shook. He didn’t answer me, instead climbing out of the car and heading towards one of the police officers standing outside.
My eyes darted to the open front door of the house, and I noticed a figure on the steps.
My brother, Caiden.
Sitting with his knees pulled up, his head was buried in his arms. A blanket had been draped over his shoulders, but I could see that he was shivering as I neared him.
“Cade?”
He raised his head, and I sucked in a breath. His face was drained of colour, his eyes red-rimmed and devastated. “M-mum’s…” was all he managed to scrape out, before his eyes filled with tears and he dropped his head in his arms again, his shoulders shaking.
I sank down onto the steps next to him and slipped my arm around his shoulder, trying to comfort my big brother as he fell apart.
The next week passed in a blur. My dad’s words kept echoing over and over in my head. “Your mother has passed away.” He was withdrawn, blank, shutting himself in his office for hours. Caiden was the same, hiding away in his room. I wandered the silent house, hurting and alone, constantly replaying the last time I’d seen my mum on the morning of her death. She’d been withdrawn, sad, for a long time now, but that morning, she seemed lighter than she’d been in so long. She’d made me toast, singing along with the radio and chatting to me about my schoolwork. When I left for school, she’d wrapped me in her arms and kissed my cheek. “I love you, Weston. Never forget that.”
That was the last time I saw her alive.
I’d give anything for just one more moment with her.
When the post-mortem results came, my dad sat me down, exchanging a long, loaded look with my brother.
“Your mother’s death was an accident. A brain haemorrhage. Could have happened to anyone, at any time. There was nothing any of us could have done.”
Our family was fractured beyond repair. And when my dad moved Christine Clifford into our home, the cracks became a chasm too wide to bridge.
Fuck. I took a deep breath. Losing my mum had been the worst experience of my life, but to now find out that her death hadn’t been an accident? That she’d been driven to suicide? And my dad’s deceased ex-wife, Christine, had played a part in it?
Why had they lied to me?
The day dragged on while I waited for everyone to return home. Caiden had taken Winter out for the day, Cassius had gone out early to pick up Lena for some family thing, and fuck knew where Zayde was.
The need to confront my brother was so strong, yet I tamped it down. I could understand him wanting to put the whole situation behind him, since he was shot and all that shit, but there was no reason why he should have kept Christine’s revelation from me. I knew I needed to give him a chance to explain, though, so I had to be patient. Until then…
I poured myself a drink.
And another.
And another.
Until the memories were softened and blurred, dulled by the alcohol.
In the kitchen, I’d just finished up my fifth—or was it sixth?—drink, when I heard the sound of voices. Cassius appeared in the doorway and took one look at me, then came racing over. “What’s wrong? Anything I can do? Want me to beat the shit out of someone? Or set Z on them?”
Despite myself, I laughed. “Nah, but thanks for the offer. I need…I need to speak to Cade and Winter.” My eyes fell closed as I leaned against the kitchen island, folding my arms across the cool surface and burying my head in my hands.
The sound of footsteps grew more distant, then closer again. There was a low murmur of voices.
“West?” A hand gently rested on my back, and I raised myself, turning to face Winter as she studied me, worry written all over her face. Caiden came up to stand next to her, slipping his hand around her waist, and she leaned into him.
“Why didn’t either of you tell me that Christine had driven my mum to suicide?” The words were out before I could even think about them.
Caiden blanched, jumping back as if he’d been electrocuted. I would’ve almost found it funny, if I hadn’t been watching the sheer panic appear in his eyes. My confident older brother was suddenly lost for words.
“Can you explain what you mean by that?” Winter spoke carefully, and I nodded, trying to push away the hurt for a minute so I could concentrate on what I was saying.
“I’ve seen footage from the docks. I heard Christine say to you both that—that.” My voice cracked, and I took a deep breath. Fuck. I couldn’t lose it now. “I heard her say that she encouraged Mum to commit suicide.”
My brother’s wide, panicked gaze swung to Winter’s, and a dawning realisation gripped me. His usual mask was gone, and I could read him perfectly.
“You knew already, didn’t you?” My low whisper somehow seemed louder than a shout.
He swallowed hard, still looking at Winter, and she squeezed his side and nodded once. His eyes met mine then, and I was shocked to see that they looked glassy.
Then he spoke one word, so soft that I could barely hear him.
“Yes.”
Unable to hold my gaze, he hung his head. “We didn’t know about Christine’s involvement.”
Anger flared, hot and sudden. I rarely lost my temper, but now, I was seeing red. I turned to Winter, clenching my jaw so hard that my teeth ached. “You knew? You knew as well? And no one fucking thought to tell me?” My voice rose as I focused on Caiden again, not caring about his stricken gaze. I needed answers, and I was going to get them. Right. Fucking. Now. “You and Dad told me she’d died of a brain haemorrhage!”