RoseBlood

Before The Beginning

I'm noticeably quiet the next morning when I come out of my room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where two of the Tyrels are already, Edith sat at the table while Emerson takes small sips of coffee. Edith's hopefulness has come back a little with sleep as she gives me a smile, her phone in her lap.

"Hi, Holly. Do you want something? I think we're gonna make some progress today."

I nod, glancing over at Emerson, who observes me thoughtfully from his spot behind the counter.

"I think so too," I agree, sitting opposite her. "Where's Elias?"

Edith lets out a short sigh, shaking her head. "He'll come down at some point."

"He needs to," Emerson muses, dark eyes peering at the clock on the wall nearby. "The Tyrel Trust includes him too, and this case needs to be solved."

He might hate me for what I'm going to say, what I've got to pry into, but at the end of the day, they've done exactly the same thing to me. We, somehow, have to push away the personal and sensitive facts of the blood and pain and death being people that were once the closest to us, and see it as a case that must be solved, like any other, and time is running out. I know for certain that Elias will find it the hardest to see things that way. It's not how he copes. I don't know how he does, really.

"Let's bring this upstairs," Edith suggests, getting up from the table, "yeah?"

Emerson nods, and I go back up the stairs, Edith following close behind as Emerson brings up the food tray with steady hands. She knocks on Elias' bedroom door, and Elias pushes it open, giving her a questioning, weary look.

"What?"

"Come on, Elias, we're gonna try again," she attempts to coax him out of his room, grabbing his wrist and tugging at it. "You've got to help us too."

Elias looks over Edith's shoulder at Emerson, who looks back at him with a mild, expectant gaze, to which Elias rolls his eyes and comes out of his room properly, pulling the door closed behind him. We all walk into the library, four walls replaced with countless levels of books being our room to unravel a tangled web in. Elias sits back in his chair as he drums a beat on his leg with his fingertips, and I take out my casebook and place it on the table.

"Brunsley wants to hear from us, and you especially, Holly," Emerson states, opening up his iPad. "Comparing Clarissa Newman's murder to the murder of your parents, he says. Was there anything similar or different?"

"Yes, I'll get to that," I say with vaguely annoyed eyes, resting my hands on my book. "We can't start there. That's right in the middle of this mess."

"So, we start with when you first wrote in your casebook," Edith suggests. "Have you noticed anything new that you put, or-"

"No, not there either," I tell her, and she raises a brow, evidently confused. "I can't make sense of the RoseBlood Killer's personality or anything when I've only got half of their story. I need as much of it as possible. So, I need to start before the beginning of the case."

"Before the beginning?" Elias echoes.

"Yep. And that means..."

"I know what that means," Emerson catches on, and I meet his trained eye as he speaks. "You're right. We need to go back to four years ago."

Edith's eyes widen a fraction, and my stare flicks over to Elias. There, just as I suspected; he's shaking his head with his jaw clenched.

"Not around me, you're not."

"Elias," Emerson starts, but Elias scoffs, glaring at his brother.

"Don't you start, Emerson! Sometimes I wonder if you actually care about the fact that he's dead, you know? You two... I don't know how you do it!" Elias looks between his siblings incredulously. "Edith's always smiling her days away, trying again, and again, at every angle. And then there's you. You look at everything like a puzzle, and live in denial that it was our dad that was killed!"

"Don't attempt to tell me how I think," Emerson retorts, his expression and voice as calm as ever, though there's a hint of venom in his words. "I deny nothing, Elias, and I'm well aware that it was my father who was murdered. But I face up to the truth. You can't be emotional about a case when you're the one solving it, because you won't be able to think straight, or carry out the investigation properly. You are the one who needs to consider how you're approaching this. In every single Case Report that's been sent between this Trust and Brunsley, you haven't read or acknowledged a single one. It's always 'received and unread.' I know it's difficult, but you're not helping yourself by distancing yourself from everything even remotely connected to it."

Elias' face screws up in anger. "You shut up! I only tried to help you out and carry on the Tyrel Trust because we're family! I'm not a proper detective or whatever, and you know that! Maybe I don't like the constant reminders, okay!"

"Well, you're going to get them."

"Shut u-"

"Enough!"

This time, it's my voice that's raised above the commotion that's going on around the library table. I look between the three of them in frustration, Elias' arms folded as he stares at the floor in anger and upset, Edith's expression full of worry, Emerson caught off guard as he turns his attention to me. Finally, a moment's silence.

"We're not going to solve anything if you keep on bickering. Now, this is the worst-case scenario, so listen closely to me. If Elias keeps himself shut off, Edith keeps on circling what we already know in the hopes of finding something new, and Emerson keeps his work to himself, we'll have nothing to tell Brunsley. It'll end up with something similar to what happened all those years ago. Days turn into weeks, and eventually, I'll be sent home, because there's no point in me staying here indefinitely. Then, it won't matter if a few police are still patrolling the area, because the killer will not stop until they finish what they started. May I remind you, they want me dead? The RoseBlood Killer is going to murder me. And when they do, they'll disappear. You'll never, never have another shot of finding out who the murderer of your father, Clarissa Newman, or the Cassias, is, because their work is done."

It's a worst-case scenario that I won't let happen, I'm sure of that. But still, saying it all out loud and hearing it all from myself makes the slow-healing bruise on my neck throb subconsciously, and a shiver snakes down my spine. I'm not wrong. That's the very outcome we have to avoid, otherwise, there's not a hope in hell for me. Or for the Tyrels.

"However," I continue after a pause, Edith, Elias and Emerson all watching me silently now. "If we start working together with this, you could help save a life. Not that I need saving in that way, obviously, but there's still that chance, isn't there? We can't bring back your father, or my own parents, but we can still catch the RoseBlood Killer. But I can't only work from what I know, and from my casebook. I need to know what you do. Elias, you walked in on a crime scene, but it's not a crime scene to you. It wasn't to me either, when I first saw it. It was just my mum and my dad, except... well, they weren't my parents anymore. They were dead. Because someone did it to them. Murder is unforgivable. You can't avenge your father and bring the murderer to light by staying out of communications and investigations to do with the cases. You should be leading it with your siblings, like I thought you were when we first met. This isn't impossible yet, okay? But we've got to go back, right back, before the beginning. Back to when you first noticed something strange going on with your dad, when he met the killer. It's the only way we're going to get a clearer picture. We've got to combine both cases. It'll be so much easier when we do. But it won't work with just a couple or one of us. We need all of us. Do you understand? You've got to help me catch the RoseBlood Killer, or no one will."

Edith nods eagerly, looking fully invigorated from my odd take at a speech.

"She's right. I'll help you, Holly. I- I miss Dad."

"I miss him too," Elias says, his voice wavering as he looks up with a set expression, nodding stiffly at me. "Damn right, I'll help you."

I turn to Emerson then, who has that curious, confused glimmer in his deep brown eyes, mouth slightly parted. He composes himself once all eyes are on him, and nods at me too.

"I'll help you, Holly. Because, believe it or not," he adds, looking at his brother, "I miss Dad too. Very much."

Elias pauses, then gives him a silent nod, and I smile contentedly, folding my arms over the casebook.

"Okay then, good," I breathe. "Now, let's start this from before the beginning."