Bel was given very strict instructions not to come downstairs.
But he was never very good at listening.
Most fourteen year olds aren't.
Especially when he was curious.
The hotel hallway is bathed in shadow, making the furniture look like something from the set of a horror film. Curtains are drawn over the lower windows, but moonlight still spills through the upper ones. This is a five star hotel, so everything from furniture to the little knick knacks that decorate each room has the inevitable "you break it, you buy it" policy that no one really thinks about until something is actually broken. The clock on the wall reads "one a.m.", so the expectation is that everyone is asleep.
But Bel knows better.
He can hear the murmur of conversation coming through one of the half open doors at the end of the hallway. It's the entrance to one of the terraces, but who would be talking in a hotel terrace at one a.m.? Bel is pretty sure even the tourists wouldn't be out on the terrace at this hour, but who knew?
Was it the hotel staff cleaning up for the next day?
Or a lovers' meeting?
If his curiosity wasn't peaked before, it is now.
Careful not to make the floor creak, he tiptoes over to the room. The door is open enough that Bel can squeeze in without too much trouble, but he could easily be seen if he went outside. And he was told to stay upstairs. Instead, he crouches next to the partly open door, pressing his face to the crack and peering outside.
There are two men on the terrace. At least, he thinks they're men, judging by their height and build; but in the dark he can't be sure. What is obvious is that it's not a casual conversation--one of the men is confronting the other.
Bel squeezes himself closer to the opening, trying to make out what the two men are saying, but it doesn't do any good. One of the men is making aggressive, angry gestures, and the other one is shaking his head in denial. There's something familiar about the head shaker, but he's not sure what.
Taking a deep breath, and keeping his body as low to the ground as possible, Bel crawls through the door's opening, toward a large flower pot about three feet away from the door. It's a little closer to the two men, so maybe he can hear the conversation?
Then the Aggressive Man raises his voice:
"I told you--"
"I'm not interested in what you did, or didn't tell me," the second man says. "That's not the kind of man I am."
Bel sucks in a breath.
Dad.
That's Dad's voice.
But who is the Aggressive Man, and why is he so angry?
The answer comes quickly when the Aggressive Man grasps Dad by the shoulders, desperate, but still angry.
"You don't understand! You really have no idea--"
"I have a very clear idea of what the situation is," Dad responds. "But there's nothing I can do. It's above my pay grade, and as much as I want to, I can't stop the consequences of the choices that were made. I care about you and your dad enough to warn him, and to tell you to get out while you still can."
"I'm not interested in your warnings."
"If that were true, you wouldn't have come here. I've done everything I possibly can. I'm so sorry."
