Charmed Destiny - Season One

1.2 The Witching Hour - Part 2

Previously On Charmed Destiny...

"Detective Lagorio," Alex repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's more likely to be accidental, or...? Or what? What exactly are you suggesting?"

"Suicide," Lagorio said bluntly.

The word hung in the air, a terrible accusation that sent Alex springing up from his chair. "No, no way. Someone did this. I know it."

~

The sight of Aaron's tears broke through Alex's anger, his demeanor softening as he reached out. "I'm... I'm sorry, Aaron..."

Aaron didn't hesitate to pull his brother into a tight embrace, his tears soaking into Alex's shirt. "You're right," Alex whispered, holding him close.

They stood there for a few moments, letting the silence wash over them, offering a brief reprieve from the turmoil that had consumed them both. Finally, Alex broke the silence, his voice gentle. "You're still not talking to Eric?"

~

Aaron's expression darkened, his earlier attempt at humor falling flat. "Yeah... that's probably going to be an issue if we want to afford the upkeep of the house," he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

The clatter of jars and boxes being put away filled the silence, Aaron's mind churning with thoughts he wasn't sure how to voice. Finally, he looked up, his face tense with a mixture of dread and determination. "Maybe we should...," he began, then hesitated, the words catching in his throat. A slight grimace crossed his face as he forced himself to continue, "...think about selling the manor?"

~

"So, what do we have?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of impatience, eager to get to the heart of the matter.

The Captain tucked his phone away, his expression tightening. "Same scenario as two nights ago," he said, his voice rough with frustration. He nodded towards the hallway leading to the bedroom. "Another dead female, in her early thirties. Slit throat."

~

He shut off the tap, gripping the glass a little too tightly. "And apparently too busy to even think about or visit us. He didn't even come for Mom's funeral, Aaron. Her funeral!" His voice wavered, the hurt buried deep but unmistakable.

Aaron's expression softened as he approached Alex, trying to offer a sympathetic smile. "Don't be so critical of him, Alex. We were young once."

~

"So, you'd rather have a tense reunion filled with insults and demands? over having an adult conversation?" Andrew shot back, his tone growing more confrontational.

Alex took a step closer, the space between them nearly nonexistent. "No, but otherwise, we won't have anything to talk about. You ran off to New York, didn't visit for years, and then had the gall not to show up to your own mother's funeral!" His voice rose, each word cutting deeper. "Then you drop out of school, again, after Mom put so much money into your education the first time."

~

"—His own childhood to raise us," Andrew finished the sentence for him, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Yeah, yeah, yeah... I get it. We lost Dad too. It's not like we didn't have to adjust too."

Aaron's expression softened, a shadow of sorrow passing over his face. "Not just Dad—Grandmama too. She died just two years before Dad... and now Mom..." his voice broke, and he looked away, unable to hide his grief. "We're lucky he was responsible. You and I had it easy. All we had to do was be there. He had to have been under a lot of stress."