52 : The Little Boy

819 47 10
                                    

"We're going to follow them," I say to Sylv and Avalon, as we crouch behind Sylv's truck, Cheryl.

"Are you insane? Did you not just hear what the detective said?" Sylv growls at me.

Avalon still looks shaken behind me, quivering. "I just can't believe he's dead – we were just speaking with him on the phone last night – it's just too much."

"Fine then. Take Avalon home and I'll follow them myself," I snap at him, Avalon fading into background noise.

"I'm not letting you go on your own," Sylv growls again.

"Well if you believe Franks then why can't I go on my own?"

"Because you're f*cking mental and I don't trust you."

"He's just dead. Just like that," Avalon continues talking to herself.

"I'm not five years old! I can take care of myself. Just get Avalon out of here. She's shaking like a vibrator."

"I'm not leaving you," Sylv glares at me. "Why can't you just give it a rest? Godd*mnit, Rose. We've f*cking finished it. It's over."

"You didn't hear him, Sylv. You didn't hear his broken voice over the phone last night. He called me to tell me something. He knows something. I don't know what – but that's what got him killed. Now, someone in there murdered him and made it look like a suicide and confession. Have you not seen it done in the movies, Sylv?"

"This isn't the f*ckng movies! This is real life, Rose! Sh*t like that doesn't happen. It's done. It's over."

"She's right," Avalon says with a wobbly voice. "You didn't hear him, Sylv. He was hopeful."

Then I hear familiar voices walk towards us. Paige's parents – Joe and Renee. I peak over Cheryl and watch them walk to their car. Why are they even here?

Renee's a lovely woman. Always been easy to talk to, hospitable and kind. Whenever we went to Paige's house, she would have made us chocolate covered strawberries and something delicious to snack on – always prepared earlier. She was proud to spoil us.

I never saw Joe around lot. He's always working. Always busy. The few times I've seen him, he's cracked a dad joke or been cooking on the grill at one of her birthdays. Everything about them is regular. They live in the beautiful house on Lavender Hill. Their life was perfect – they even had the two huskies to match.

Perfect, peaceful, plain.

"I'm following them whether you come with us or not." I grit my teeth and send him a stern glare.

His eyes narrow at mine. "Fine," he sighs.

Then we split up into our cars and follow the Ascotts home.

.

.

.

We park outside their house and walk up to the front door. They're fighting inside and haven't seemed to notice us.

"What do you think they're fighting about?" Avalon says quietly.

I realise now how much Avalon has changed throughout this whole process. She's never been a stressed out person. She's never been a quiet person.

Avalon is the loud, bubbly, social butterfly. She's meant to be the life of the party – the one that's always gigging. All of this has changed her.

And I get the feeling things are about to get worse.

"I can't hear," Sylv says back to her.

"Let's sneak around to the back porch. The sliding doors are always open," I suggest.

The three of us creep around the back of the house, ducking down and tiptoeing. I pray so hard that they don't catch us. I'm not sure how we'll recover from there.

They might catch us later on security footage – but by that point we'll be far away and can think of an excuse, like ducking over to play with the dogs.

"This is our fault," Renee says harshly but with a low voice.

Joe is not as quiet. "Do you really think any of us could have predicted this?"

"We should have known people weren't going to believe it so easily."

Sylv and I look between each other and exchange confused looks. We duck low below the windows, leaning on each other. Avalon has both her hands on my shoulders to keep balanced, her long legs difficult to manoeuvre. I lean on Sylv's shoulders and hope my hands aren't sweaty. We haven't been this close since our fight – but I'm lucky he's too distracted by the Ascott's to do anything about it. I miss being close to him.

"We never should have brought a child into this world," Joe hisses.

I feel a bite grip my sides. It makes me heart hurt. Do they really regret having Paige? What does that even mean?

The huskies start barking. I don't know why because usually they like us and give us a cuddle – but today they're barking. So loudly, that the Ascott's start to get suspicious and start moving forward to investigate. They probably know that today we are intruders, not guests.

We start crawling in the other direction – heading for the cars. I take one peak behind me through the window, to see where the Ascott's are.

I don't see them. But I do see a photo hanging on the wall.

I'm far away, yes, but I can see it just clearly enough. Clearly enough to recognise the little boy in the antique photo frame. The little boy who isn't an Ascott.

The little boy who is Joseph Wittle. 

The Secrets of Cedar CreekWhere stories live. Discover now