"Hey," Anita whispered, tugging at Renee's sleeve. "Why the sudden shift in atmosphere?"
Renee sighed. Approaching the couch, she gestured for Anita to sit.
"But why?" Anita whispered again, reluctant to move.
Her heart clenched with unease, dread creeping in. What was it about that phone call that had made auntma's mood shift so sharply?
Anita didn't know why, but worry gnawed at her. Still, when Renee gave her a subtle nudging look, she took off her bag and sat down beside Edward. She'd get answers eventually, right? She just prayed it wasn't about the earlier crisis. She prayed it wasn't that that whelp, Tigean, had called Miridald and outed them. Outrageous, right? Where would she even get auntma's contact? But then again… after her brief encounter with that girl, Anita had a gut feeling—Tigean was absolutely capable of something like that. She was just… too intense for her age.
Edward noticed Anita's composure cracking. He placed his hand gently over hers.
His eyes—charming, dazzling—seemed to whisper reassurance: stay calm, everything would be okay. At least… he hoped.
Mdachi caught sight of the exchange and understood a piece of what ran through Anita's mind, even without words. But what unsettled him more was how auntma and Renee kept exchanging subtle, disoriented looks—as if they were the ones on edge. Ironic, considering what Anita seemed to be dreading.
"A… I'll be right back." Miridald rose and walked toward the corridor.
Edward's eyes followed her until she vanished. Then he looked back at the room—everyone carrying a tension they tried, and failed, to conceal. The air was suffocating, thick with the unspoken elephant in the room. An elephant Edward couldn't even name.
When Miridald returned, she held one of the handbags Renee was carrying—her own. Sitting down, she opened it and drew out a stack of papers.
She handed them to Edward.
Though apprehensive, Edward reached out and took them. "What's this, Mom?"
"It's…"
He flipped through the pages, his friends leaning in to peek. He skimmed without really absorbing the words.
"It's the document stating that you are the legal inheritor of Hallington's properties and assets," Miridald said softly. "It's Hallington's will."
Shock!
Edward froze. His eyes widened, heart stuttering into stillness. Slowly, he looked up at his mother, his hands trembling as if he were holding something cursed.
"Wha… what did you just say?"
"Hallington left most of his properties to you, darling. Except his house and a few other things."
Edward shook his head in denial. His hands weakened, and the papers nearly slipped before Mdachi snatched them away. "No… no, Mom. It can't be." His voice cracked, tears burning. "He couldn't have done this, Mom. What? Did he know he was going to die? That he would be murdered in his own house at night?!"
Mdachi's eyes darted toward Edward. Wait, he thought. Didn't BAJIMSA brainwash everyone into believing Hallington died in a road accident? So howcome auntma knows the truth?
He bit back the thought. Anita didn't know about their visit to Mrs. Orao yesterday, and auntma and Renee ostensibly only knew this side of the story. Best not to raise alarms now. He kept silent, focusing on the pages instead. He'd ask Edward later.
"I'm just as confused as you are, son," Miridald replied, her voice raw, her eyes glistening with pain. "I wish I knew the answers. I wish I could take all this from you. But I'm in the dark too. Hallington's death was sudden, devastating and baffling. I'm so sorry."
She pressed a hand over her eyes, sobbing quietly. "I'm sorry, son. I'm so sorry."
Renee wrapped an arm around her sister, pulling her close and rubbing her arm gently. She too wept, though seeing Miridald's grief cut her even deeper.
Anita sat frozen, sorrow brimming in her chest. Hot tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she forced them back.
Edward bowed his head in silence, broken only by the shaky rhythm of his sniffling. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing. He tried to hold it together, tried to piece the puzzle, but… he wasn't sure he was strong enough anymore.
Anita scooted closer. She guided his head onto her shoulder, rubbing his arm as he sobbed. "Shhh… just let it all out," she whispered. "Just let it all out."
Mdachi finally set the papers on the table, having finished reading.
"So…" he began, drawing everyone's eyes. "Hallington signed this three months before his death?"
Miridald straightened. "Yes. Yes, he did."
Edward looked up sharply.
"So he knew?" Mdachi pressed. "He knew his demise was coming? I mean, he's like in his late thirties, wasn't he?"
Edward nodded stiffly.
"Exactly," Mdachi said, baffled. "He still had his whole life ahead of him. No children. No wife. Am I wrong?"
Edward shook his head. "You aren't wrong. He was a bachelor."
"So what you're saying, Dachi," Anita interjected, "is that Hallington knew this would happen?"
"Might," Mdachi corrected firmly. "Would is rather a more affirmative word to use. Might. That's more accurate."
Anita nodded in understanding.
He turned to Miridald. "Auntma, what more did the police say? I assume that's where you learned about his demise?"
Miridald nodded. "Yes. But they didn't tell me much. They don't just tell anybody anything. They said the case was horrifying, complex, and far above their paygrade. Higher powers are involved."
"But you weren't just anybody to Hallington," Mdachi insisted. "You and your family mattered to him."
"Maybe so, but we had no blood or formal ties. In the eyes of the authorities, that bond doesn't count."
"But Hallington named Edward his heir. Won't that put you under suspicion? His family in Canada—don't you think they'll wonder why Edward, not them, inherited almost everything? They only got his house, which they don't even want since they live overseas. Won't they question it?"
Miridald parted her lips to answer, but Edward cut in.
"It's not that I'm greedy or happy about this," Edward said, voice tight. "I'm still struggling to wrap my head around it. But his family should be grateful they got anything. He never spoke of them—never even mentioned them. To him, we were his family. Not them. And it can't just be that he never wanted me to know about them; I bet they aren't nice people. "
"Yes, Hallington never mentioned his family and saw us as his real family." Miridald added. "And for the record, Hallington's lawyer contacted me through the police and handed me the will himself. So, will we be under scrutiny? Most probably. But we've got nothing to fear. Even the lawyer told me that. So there's no reason to feel uneasy over what those Canadians might have to say."
"That puts it at bay," Mdachi concluded, though a new thought sparked in his mind. "Oh, and I also wanted to ask one more thing."
"Ask," Miridald granted.
"If investigations are still ongoing, why is Hallington's house already getting a new owner? Sure, the Canadian family might have sold it, but shouldn't that wait until the case is fully closed? Isn't the house technically still a crime scene?"
Exactly Edward's sentiments.
Anita's eyes deepened with realization—she hadn't thought of that before.
"I think… they already gathered all the evidence they needed from there? I don't know how they're handling it or what they have planned. Like I said, they won't tell me more than they think I should know. But I believe they know what they're doing. That much is undisputable."
Mdachi nodded but remained unconvinced. He knew that wasn't how investigations—especially ones of this magnitude—were usually handled. And with BAJIMSA involved, he was certain they had a hand, or both, in it. They were definitely cooking something behind the scenes. But what? That was the question gnawing at his mind. What was BAJIMSA up to?
Amidst the talk, Anita reached forward and grabbed the papers, scanning through them as well.
"Mom," Edward's voice broke through, low and heavy. "What happens next?"
Miridald knew exactly what he meant. With a faint smile, she answered, "I had a feeling you would ask me that. I contacted Hallington's family and, after a lot of pleading, they allowed us to pay our last respects tomorrow before his cremation."
"What?" Edward didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.
Anita's attention snapped away from the papers.
"You had to plead for that?" Edward asked, his voice sharp with annoyance.
"Please, son, let's not dwell on that. Look at the bright side—we get to honor Hallington and…"
"They aren't coming, are they?" His tone cut through her words.
Miridald sighed. "No. Not for his funeral."
"Good… Wait, what do you mean by not for his funeral? Are they coming later?"
Hesitation flickered in Miridald's eyes. She knew how he would react.
"Mom. Please. Answer me."
"They… they…"
"Yes, Edu," Renee interjected softly, "they will be coming afterwards… to take his ashes. I'm sorry."
Silence.
Edward bit his lip, his vision blurring as tears fought their way through. He nodded stiffly, trying to hold himself together.
Sniff. "So they don't give a damn about him, yet they still want to claim his ashes? Why did they even accept his house then? Just to sell it? To toss it aside like some banal property? Is that what Hallington was to them—a banal property?" Pain laced every word.
"They are his family, Edward," Miridald said gently, her tone as sad as his. "They have the right to make that choice."
Edward snapped a sharp look at her. "More like the wrong," he spat with contempt. "I don't care what anyone says—Hallington was ours, not theirs. I'm glad they won't be at his funeral tomorrow because, so help me God, I don't know how I would've reacted seeing them there."
Suddenly, Edward sprang to his feet. "I'm sorry, everyone, but I need to go… to let… (sigh) I just need to go to my room."
He started to storm off, too upset to ask more about tomorrow. He should have been grateful, should have appreciated that his mother had fought to negotiate their farewell—but all he felt was contempt and indignation.
Then, abruptly, he stopped in his tracks and turned back. His voice shook with fury. "I hope the plane they take to come and collect him crashes."
The room was thrown into shock silence.
Edward said nothing more and stormed upstairs.
Miridald sat frozen. Did Edward really just say that?
"Relax, Miri," Renee assured quickly. "He's just grieving. He didn't mean it."
"Yes, Auntma," Anita added softly. "He's just overwhelmed. We'll go check on him."
"Please do," Miridald whispered, wiping away tears. "Please."
Anita and Mdachi hurried upstairs.
"He'll be alright," Renee said, sliding an arm around her sister.
"You think so?" Miridald asked, clutching Renee's hand with a desperate squeeze.
"I know so," Renee replied firmly. Turning her gaze from the corridor back to her sister, she met her eyes. "I believe so."