Queen of the Wood ✅

12 - The Father

I kept glancing towards the kitchen island even though I had long ago hidden the tiara in my room. I had somehow finagled it back into the envelope using an oven mitt, not wanting to ruin potential evidence. It still felt weird that we hadn't called the sheriff's department. But at the same time, I also knew how it would look if discovered at my house.

Not good for me, no matter if I told them the truth that it had been sent to me and I had no idea where it came from.

Dad was busy talking about the news he heard from town while we ate a dinner of reheated casserole. I hadn't said much; I was still stuck on what had happened earlier.

"Do ya think you can get some information from yer dad? Ya said he picked ya up, right?"

Yes, my father had picked me up that night. I wasn't entirely sure how he had even found me or knew to get me. All I knew was that I was out at the lake for the party, and then I woke up in bed the following morning with my hair damp, wearing my pajamas, and sicker than I had ever been. My parents had been waiting for me when I stumbled downstairs after emptying what little was left in my stomach into the toilet.

I had assumed that Maeve had called them or her sister. Truthfully, I was more worried about what Mom would do to me than about Maeve.

It wasn't until the sheriff showed up that any of us had known something was wrong.

I never asked about it. Amid all the craziness, I never had the chance and completely forgot about it until yesterday.

But maybe now he'd tell me.

"Dad... Do you... How did you know to pick me up at the lake that night?" I asked, cutting him off.

Sure, it wasn't the most graceful way to bring it up, but there wasn't any gentle way to ease into it. And there was no need to clarify. There was only one night I could be talking about.

Dad stared at me, his mouth open with a fork carefully posed in front of it. His eyebrows were up, and the color drained from his face. I suppose it was a bit out of left field, but subtlety wasn't really an option right now.

It was high time I started learning some of the truths of that night, even if it hurt.

"Lady Bug, why does that matter?" Dad dropped his fork down onto his plate and reached for his napkin. "It was so long ago."

"Five years isn't that long... I want to know. No one will talk to me about that night." I pushed my casserole around my plate. I hadn't had much appetite, knowing what I had to ask about.

"For good reason. I didn't want to upset ya more than ya already were," Dad said gently.

I looked up at him, my brow furrowed. There he went. Protecting me. At least, that's what he called it. Even Mom threw that phrase around whenever Maeve's disappearance came up, and she refused to tell me anything.

But I was a grown adult. I deserved to know.

"Do you know what it's been like having a giant black hole in your mind about the night your best friend disappeared?" I asked softly. "I need to know. If there's anything you can tell me... Please."

Dad didn't speak for a long time, and he also didn't look away. I felt like I was one of his patients who had walked in with a complex case.

Finally, Dad sighed and rubbed his face.

"Lady Bug, I don't know a whole lot more than you do. Ya called me... barely coherent. I managed to catch that you were at the lake. I knew there was a party out there, though I hoped that you and Maeve were smart enough to avoid it," he said. "I drove out, and it took me damn near forever to find ya. You were... in such a state that I brought ya straight home."