Nightwalker

Forty-Nine

A/N: this chapter has three songs linked to it. Listen in chronological order :) Enjoy—A.B

Riordan

"You don't think I'll be questioned by the entire precinct—talk less of my fucking firm if I come back with news like this?"

A few meters away with his back turned to me was my disheveled father frantically gesturing with his cell plastered to his hand. I sat facing his back, hugging my knees on the bare grass.

For the first time in a very long time, I wished my mother was here.

The cops had an estimated arrival time of 5 minutes and they were going to need a detailed understanding of how we both got into this predicament.

Knowing her, she would've come up with some elaborate, entrancing lie that persuaded the authorities into bestowing me innocent.

A docile frown or dark, insinuating eyes that fiend insult was all it would take for anyone questioning me to back off. She was a damn good liar, I'll give her that, and that memory of her will stick with me forever.

The fog nor the drizzling rain that made my hair stick to my forehead couldn't wash away the filth I was covered in, and my head started to spin along with my insides.

I can't believe I found you, Amalia.

So, where are you?

I half expected her to be here; to magically show up like she usually does at convenient times. But she wasn't here—I couldn't even feel her energy.

The freezing night air nipped at the tips of my fingers, and I blow on them subconsciously. It was a stinging reminder of just how cold it got at night around October. She'd been just as cold, if not more that night.

There was a pause before my father spoke. "This is my daughter we're talking about—I don't think I have to tell you how different this is."

Another pause, this time on Tamara's side of the phone.

"Well, I didn't sign up for breaking the law for you when we started dating!" Her voice boomed from the speaker.

"You're not breaking the law, Ara, you're just buying her some time before the police start questioning her—she'd be up against the Linklater's for gods sake—they have lawyers up to their neck that'll spin this against her in a matter of seconds! This could ruin us if it isn't done right."

A more suitable explanation than the paranormal should've been developed before I dialled our local PD.

We were both flustered minutes ago, frantically trying to overcorrect the mess of desecrating a makeshift grave. Maybe that wasn't my first time seeing a dead body, but it was for sure the littlest body I'd ever seen.

And my father's first. He wasn't doing well, but for my sake and maybe his too, he's gone in to fix mode.

"Ara, we need you. That's an understatement in any capacity."

I hadn't seen my father display that much emotion to anyone, including my mother.

"River, I swear to God, if I'm putting my career on the line for you, your daughter better be fucking innocent."

As soon as those words left the receiver, I could see bright blue and red lights trailing down the street from across the field.

I wish I could say I felt the slightest bit of fear as the police cruisers pulled up onto the rugby field, but I couldn't.

Apart of me thinks it's because it's never been about the implications—all I've wanted is justice for Amalia. All I've wanted to do is help, and if that means it's to my own detriment, I didn't mind.