The light in my darkness ✅

🌕CHAPTER 40🌑

Third person's point of view

It's near the end and they knew it. There is a time and place for everything and as they all meet up at the end of a staircase; they stop. It's time. How could one tell this is how it would feel? Like rush of adrenaline; just to see a person.

Volkan was on his edge because he knew Talat was trying not to loose it.

Caroline was on her edge because she didn't thought the day would come when she, little her, would have power over Pauline.

A black door stood Infront of them and Talat almost rush at it but held back by Volkan.

Inspector Reid stood Infront of them and stared at Caroline.
"This is it,"She then turned and removed a key chain from a nail nearby.

It's a place design, like a old cellar, it's the oldest part of the house; covered with dust, compared to the beauty of the house, this place looks like it has been there in century and maybe it has. Time tick away as the old door opened with a creak.

There she is, like something out of a movie. Looking like one. Witches in a night gown, her hair haven't been comb and chains hang around her wrists and feet.

"Oh, what a sight? Go ahead and take a few pictures, Caroline," Talat said, with amusement in his voice to Caroline, it seems like another side as turned on. He made an attempt to walk towards her again but got pulled back by Volkan yet again.

"Go ahead and take the picture, what are waiting for?" And so the photographer steps forward.

***
Dave switched off the TV as the news ended. It has been pronounced that the president's autopsy showed over overdose of a medication, it seems like a suicide, except there was no note. His wife didn't have much care and he didn't get along well with his children.

'What a easy way to die,' Dave thought.

He had been visiting his dad, and he felt at ease doing so since Caroline now knows about him. Despite him having no pity on the dead; he loves this man. This man he called Dad. Even though growing up, he didn't live with him, but Vince was there for him. He was Vince little secret, and here he is now, out in the open with a little sister curious to know him. If he had a heart, it would melt as he looked across at Matilda's little hand, her hand was gently trailing across his cheek bones. If he doesn't have a heart what is all this? These emotions he found coming to surface.

"You have high cheekbones like dad does," she had been observing him from a far until she gathered courage and came and sat next to him. She had took his hand and held on to it. Basically observing him like a science project;with so much care.

A slight smile curve at his lips and his lips trembled.

He looked over at Vince and Vince had tears in his eyes.

"Oh, come on man, dad, you promise you wouldn't crack," he struggles with the emotion battling inside him, fighting to come out. The last time he cried was years ago when some bad men came and raped his mom, he couldn't do anything about it. He was young and held back by force as she shouted at him to close his eyes. She is now in mental care and she chooses not to remember who her own son is. Well, at least he thinks so, because each time he visits her, the next minute she remembers him, and the next minute she doesn't.

When he finally physically touched Caroline, and watched her sleep from the injection, he had driven that day with blurry eyes. Now here he is and Vince promised him, he wouldn't crack.

"Am not cracking, not cracking. Am going to hum, give you some space."

Vince knew that Dave wasn't that used to weakness and each time it came up at him, he tried and always succeeded in pushing it away. It's like the man is a science project himself, the way he programs. Vince would thought so if he wasn't one hundred percent sure, that this man is his son.
He knew the type of work Vince does, he accepted it by the blink of an eye when he found out. There was nothing he could do to change it because he was once like that, the only difference was that he was a part of a team and not the Mafia himself. He is now a businessman, one of the billionaires in the city, and half of all the money comedy from way back at a young age. He would be the pot calling the kettle black if he tried to lecture his son.