The Chime of Bluebells

10

"Murder?"

There was a heavy silence.

"It can't be."

It wasn't possible. Malachi? A murderer? Something didn't feel right about this. I knew that was something every girl- or boyfriend would say about their accused partner, but I could just not wrap my head around what Dad was laying on the table.

"Murder?" Mom repeated my question, suddenly coming to life after her statue-like posture. "No, that..."—she shook her head in bewilderment—"That can't be right. Are you sure you have legitimate information and not just gossip about the daughter of the runner up elector?"

"I'm positive. William has well-founded resources and this one cannot be mistrusted...unfortunately."

My heart dropped.

"But there are a few questionmarks circulating this case. Neither William or Mr. Knox's supposedly lawyer has been informed of how this all happened, when it happened, how it happened or why. There don't seem to be any consensus yet-"

"Then what do they have on him?" I asked. "A motive? That's not enough."

"They have proof, stronger proof."

I wanted to know what kind of evidence, but I was surely not one of those few to get hold of that kind of information. The turmoil inside, dividing itself into two teams—the "he would never, he could never, he didn't do it"-side and the "what if"-side—that constantly tried out loud the other. Malachi was the tough one not only in our relationship, but generally. Being tough doesn't say much, but he was a loner. He didn't have a family, not one he talked about anyhow. Once, I'd asked him about his parents and if he had siblings and he'd told me he was an only child. When pushing him further, he'd shut down, turning completely emotionless. I wasn't a professional psychologist, but that couldn't be a sign of a healthy family relation. What if he'd gotten a family on his own? Perhaps he'd seeked companionship and loyalty with the wrong sort of people. Brethren he trusted, brothers who weren't good for him but he didn't know—or denied knowing—it because they were the only real family he'd ever known.

I pushed those thoughts away. That wasn't it. He had a family somewhere and they only probably had a stormy relationship. If there was something worrying going on in his life, he would tell me. Because I was part of his family.

Would he, Magnolia?

"But-"

"Noli... I know these are very harsh news...for all of us." Dad swallowed. Malachi and Dad had, unlike I'd thought about my first boyfriend, gotten along very well. I'd thought it would be more like with Quinn's first guy, who he'd disliked rather much—which was unusual for Dad who likes everyone. "William suggested no interactions with Malachi."

I only stared at him. "What?"

"Noli-" Mom began but I wouldn't listen. My full attention was directed at the man in front me, telling me I couldn't see the only person I'd ever loved romantically—that I couldn't and wouldn't get to ask Malachi what had happened.

"It doesn't look good."

"So... I..." I couldn't find the words. I knew it didn't look good for any of them: Malachi was in custody for murder and his girlfriend's Dad was one of the runner up electors. It didn't even look the teeniest tiniest bit of good. "I..."

"We..." Dad began, or tried but caught himself, clearing his throat before continuing. "William will be here in the morrow and we... We will go through how to approach this matter."

"Tomorrow?"

"He can't come at once, Noli. It will... It will bring a lot of unnecessary and curious attention. We decided on tomorrow morning. Better time and lesser chance of receiving unwanted eyes before we've discussed what to do."