Be careful what you ask for.
When digging deep, you may uncover bodies.
Maisie's life has been falling apart since her older sister went missing years ago without a trace. With a dead father and a mentally unstable mother, the teenage girl ha...
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FOUR YEARS AGO FIFTEEN MONTHS BEFORE THE DISAPPEARANCE / START OF HER JUNIOR YEAR
-ISLA-
"YOU'RE GONNA MISS me when I'm gone," I said, my knees pulled to my chest, a smile painted on my lips.
My dad chuckled, looking at me over his shoulder. He sat at his desk, back turned to me as I rested on the windowsill of his study.
Since I was a kid I had enjoyed going to that room. It was the only one where my mom hadn't left her mark. It was simple and calm and real. The books on the shelves were not just for show, the paintings on the walls were not just for finesse.
"I won't miss you, mi reina," he denied, his eyes hardening, "Because you aren't going anywhere."
Even then, before I had found out to what extent he was willingly to go, I knew his words went deeper than just letting me go to college on the west coast.
I bit my lower lip, my fingertips brushing the three weeks old bruise on my forehead. I put some pressure on it. The pain blinded me.
"Daddy?" I started, trying to find the right words to bring up the topic. He just hummed, his eyes focused on the files in his MacBook. The words I had wanted to say died on my tongue, too heavy to leave my lips. Instead, I stalled like the coward I was, "Why did you choose accounting again?"
He worked as a financial accounting expert, advising some of the biggest companies in the world. He also did auditing work, checking his clients' books. His numeracy skills were breathtaking. His eyes swallowed whole the numbers, and the sharp gears of his mind twisted in a perfect rhythm. Trained to investigate each small detail.
"Has this always been your dream?" I leaned forward, my hands playing with my stars necklaces.
He turned to me, fingers laced on his lap, tongue running through his front teeth. "Honestly? I wanted to be a forensic accountant." A light smile opened on his lips. "Catch bad guys."
I snorted. Cute.
"What happened?"
"Life." He shrugged, his ankles crossing. "And your grandfather."
Now that made sense.
My mother's father was a businessman through and through. Everything to him was a negotiation. Control and power. Winning and getting ahead.
