RoseBlood

Family House

When me and Edith head downstairs, Elias and Emerson are already up, Emerson straightening up the sofa and Elias grabbing his shoes at the door. I raise my brows at him in question with a small smile.

"Yeah, I'm starting to hate this place, too."

Elias shakes his head with a smirk at my comment. "Nah, I'm not leaving. I'm grabbing us some food. So I'll be back in ten, okay?"

I nod, opening the door for him, Edith running her hand along the velvety material of the sofa, the grand oak table in the corner, a chair still stationed beside it from when I opened my presents.

"I think it's nice," Edith comments, "really nice. It's almost as big as our place!"

"Well," I shrug, "it feels a whole lot bigger as a family house now there's only me living in it."

"Will you keep it?"

"I don't know," I muse, and Emerson sits down, gazing at me in interest. "I mean, I'll be getting enough money to pay for bills and stuff, I suppose, but I'll have to make my own money sooner or later. And college starts soon. Like, two weeks soon."

"What will you do in college?" Emerson asks me, and I smile.

"What do you think?"

A flash of realisation passes through his dark eyes, and he sighs, though he can't stop the half-smile that pulls at his lips.

"What, criminology or something?"

"Criminology and psychology," I answer. "I'm pretty sure at this point that I'm never going to stop detecting, and so I might as well go ahead with it if that's what I want to be after education."

"A detective? Like Brunsley? Or like us?" Edith asks.

"Maybe. I'll have to see."

"Um," Emerson starts, getting up from the sofa and facing me with an unreadable expression, "well, if you want to be an investigator of crime, you'll need work experience. Won't you?"

I nod slowly, sceptically, unsure of where he's going. "Probably, yes."

Edith gasps excitedly before Emerson can continue. "Oh, can she help us out in the cases we're given?"

Emerson rolls his eyes, smiling at his sister. "Yes, that's what I was going to suggest, Edith. I can ask Brunsley."

My eyes widen in surprise. "What? Really?"

Emerson shrugs and nods. "Why not? You did well enough on this case, didn't you?"

"I didn't die," I agree in amusement. "But I didn't guess right. I didn't know who did it until she revealed herself."

"That's absolutely untrue," Emerson says sternly, looking me dead in the eye. "You got yourself together to solve the murder all on your own. Looking through your parents' things, listing down suspects, asking all the right questions in the right ways. Even if we didn't suspect Hayley Lore until you saw the book, you were the one to look in her bag, weren't you? Even then, you didn't let your guard down. That saved your life. You got her confession on a recording, you alerted us using the hidden cameras, and didn't panic or make any thoughtless decisions that could have worsened the outcome. You didn't just catch your parents' killer, Holly."

Emerson takes a step closer to me, his look earnest and slightly vulnerable.

"You caught my father's killer. You avenged his death, too."

I blink at him in wonder, taking a few moments before I manage to reply.

"Oh. Thank you. I guess I did."