The Hunt

Chapter 4

Disappointed and exhausted, Emily double-checked the locks on the door before deciding to return to her room. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the slouching figure on the sofa.

"Dad?" Emily did not know why she was frightened. She could not comprehend the feeling of guilt in her gut either. Why did she feel that way? They had done nothing wrong, not that Nick would approve of the idea anyway. Then what did she feel so guilt-ridden for? And why did she dread the idea of her father getting an inkling to her feelings for his friend?

Not receiving a response, she walked closer to inspect her drunk father's silhouette and saw a sight so pitiful, she felt remorseful. Her old father lay with his head against the backrest, his neck crooked at a painful angle. She observed his features, his thinning hair and tired body, wishing she hadn't always given him a hard time. And then anger surged inside her, wondering how Melissa had the heart to deceive such a harmless man. Emily simply couldn't fathom how someone could be so cruel.

"Dad." This time, her voice shook a little. She gently tapped his shoulder and called out to him.

Henry woke up disoriented. "Emily?" he looked visibly confused, seemingly still in his drunken haze. Emily's heart clenched.

"You're going to catch a cold," she spoke quietly, helping him up.

"Where is Nicholas?" He seemed to remember his friend.

"He's gone. You kept him up quite a bit." Henry didn't answer, struggling to walk even with Emily's help. His steps were wobbly and his vision, blurry.

Henry did not have a high tolerance for alcohol.

"Why are you awake this late?" he questioned out of the blue.

"Bad dream," is all the explanation she offered. She carefully helped him into his room, easing him into bed and pulling over the covers. Making sure the jug of water next to his bed wasn't empty, she turned to leave.

"Emily." She stopped short at the sound of his tired voice.

"Yes?" She walked back to his side. "Is there something you needed?" she asked, running her eyes across the nightstand, accustomed to his ways.

"No," he sighed. "Emily, I-"

"Does your head hurt?" she questioned, concerned. "You shouldn't be drinking when you can't-"

"That's not it," Henry interjected. Her concern made him feel worse for what he was about to break to her. "I have work tomorrow, Emily. And the day after as well," he finally said. "I'm afraid we can't go to Helen's either." Helen was Emily's childhood friend whom she visited every year on their annual trip. They had met when they were mere toddlers and had instantly become bestfriends. Distance was never an issue for them, with Emily coming to visit her every winter and Helen spending the summer at the Brooks'. Helen had recently got a boyfriend whom she had gushed to Emily about for hours on phone, and Emily was dying to meet the boy who had finally captured her friend's heart.

"I know," Emily said simply, to Henry's surprise.

"You're not upset?" He asked almost incredulously, clearly still a little drunk. Emily hid a smile.

"No, I'm not," she reassured him. "And I am sorry I have been a terribly uncooperative daughter lately. But I promise to be more understanding now on." It was not her attitude towards Melissa that Emily was apologising for. She was well aware of Melissa's schemes and knew she deserved far worse. But her father did not deserve the stress she had put him through. He was ignorant of Melissa's true face and was only trying to gain the affection he had been denied since the death of the late Mrs Brooks. Yes, he was in the wrong in taking Melissa's side over his own daughter without fully understanding the reason behind the discord between them, but Emily knew how blind men could be. She hated that her father had fallen victim to Melissa's claws, but she realised that if she wanted to help him, she had to be more understanding instead of antagonising him.