Tomb Raider: The Legacy

Chapter 24: Truth

Inspector Weller was aware she wouldn't be welcomed again in that impressive manor, but that came with the job. If she'd ever cared, that was long ago. So, she ignored the cold look and icy silence of that woman, Lara Croft, when she had no choice but to let her come in again. The reaction of her mother, the old lady, was much more eloquent: she kept her distance, her gaze low, wringing her hands. All that reeked of weirdness. But the look that surprised her the most was that of the girl.

She demanded to see her, of course, but nothing else seemed to have happened with her. She simply looked around and saw her sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by some books and notebooks. There was a girl of the same age next to her, a pretty blonde dressed as a schoolgirl, looking sweet and harmless. The inspector already knew that she was Lord and Lady Kipling's daughter, named Catherine, and that she was her best friend. She also knew that the girl had been visiting Anna frequently lately, and that, apart from the comfort and support that was logical in the difficult circumstances that the almost teenage girl was already going through, she was helping her recover the lost time and obvious curricular delay she had experienced in school.

And she seemed to be recovering well, both physically and emotionally, although concerning the latter, of course, the inspector wasn't the right professional to judge. At one point, Anna Croft looked up and suddenly stared at her, as if she'd noticed her presence, even though the inspector had approached without making a minimum noise. The face marks had completely disappeared, and the girl seemed to have recovered the lost tooth without major consequences. Noticing her silence, Catherine Kipling looked up and jumped, frightened, when realizing the inspector's presence. She smiled and made a reassuring gesture, but the Croft young lady stabbed her with her eyes.

She wasn't welcome. Nihil novum sub sole.

(...)

Suddenly, the apparent maturity with which she'd been shielding for a while faded and seemed helpless again, childish. "Oh, Dad..."

"What?"

"I've fucked it up a lot, a lot."

"Can't be that bad."

"If I tell you something, will you be angry?"

"Test me."

Anna sat down again and began to twist the sheet. "The police have been here, and I told them a huge and ugly lie."

Kurtis raised his eyebrows again. "Go on."

"They wanted to know... things. What happened that night."

"So, what did you tell them?" Obviously, truth wasn't an option in those circumstances.

Anna sighed. "Something awful. That you were going to kill yourself..."

"..."

"... and I tried to stop you, so I grabbed you, then you hit me to let go. Then you jumped."

For a moment, the silence thickened between them. Anna looked at her hands, twisting them, fingers wrinkling the sheet. Finally, she dared to face his father's gaze.

But he was not angry. Oh no, he wasn't. "Kiddo...", he said, smiling, "... that was fucking brilliant."

(...)

It stroked to the eye that the wounded man had got better, and how! The last time Weller seen him; he was still comatose at the hospital. Even to her, used to dantesque scenes, the machine's beep reflecting his vital signs was driving her out of her mind. His own breath, wheezing and strangled by the crushed ribs, was driving her out of her mind as well. And if she took account of what the man must have ached for, had he been conscious, she was sure it would be faster if she started where he didn't ache.