How About Seven? ✔

49. Archangel

2 YEARS AFTER THE DOCKS

In the summer of 2018, the Hood household witnessed its mistress' most distressing breakdown yet. It had happened during one of Thomas' violin lessons, where after two hours of grueling training, Thomas had finally put his foot down and refused to continue. No amount of pleading from Mrs Hood could move him, and after Thomas made a particularly harsh remark, Mrs Hood had quickly degraded into one of her episodes, where she accused Thomas of not being her son, and screamed for Kaylan, the real Kaylan, to be returned to her.

Thomas reflected that, as more and more of his past memories began to resurface, the more he was beginning to not act like Kaylan Hood, and Mrs Hood seemed to have picked up on that. The hysteria was happening more frequently now, and this time Mrs Hood had succeeded in carrying through with her self-harm threat, cutting herself a one-inch-deep wound across the wrist.

After the ambulance came to take her away, Mr Hood entered the study. The finality in which he closed the door put Thomas on alert.

Both man and boy sat across each other and said nothing for two whole minutes. The grandfather clock ticked, oblivious to the mounting tension in the room.

Mr Hood was the first to break the silence. "I remember you told me you don't remember anything before your car accident."

"Yes. I did say that at the time."

The implied meaning of the sentence sent Keegan Hood's eyes flickering to Thomas sharply. "And now?"

Thomas had been anticipating this confrontation. "I've been recalling some things."

"What sort of things?"

A pause, as Thomas decided how much he should reveal. He looked up from the arm rest he had been staring at the whole time.

"I'm not Kaylan, am I?"

The question hung in the air like a ticking time-bomb. But instead of answering the question, the lawyer evaded it by asking,

"Why do you say that?"

"My memories don't seem to correspond to what you've been telling me."

"What memories do you have?"

"Not the ones you've been telling me," Thomas replied just as smoothly.

The stalemate silence continued for another minute. Finally, Mr Hood shifted in his seat, leaning forward.

Kaylan Hood, Thomas learned, was the only son of the Hood family. Practically a perfect child in every way, he enrolled in a private all-boys' school about six miles from Sandalwood, and was president of three out of the six school clubs he joined in. He never drank, never gambled, was a devout Christian and once told his father he planned to create genuine change through politics. 

In short, Kaylan Hood was nothing like Keegan Hood.

"He died on Thanksgiving night." For a second Thomas fancied he heard Mr Hood's voice crack a little. "He was driving back to meet us. The accident wasn't his fault, it was a drunk driver at a stoplight. The junction where it happened ... it's less than two miles from our house."