Loved or Unloved?

Loved or Unloved?: Chapter 8 - Broken

CHAPTER EIGHT: Broken

I grabbed a random bag and threw my cellphone and car keys in it. After some thought, I put in a pepper spray too. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be using it.

I waved goodbye to the maidservants before getting out of the large house and walked towards my car which was parked in the porch. Hopping into my car, I revved the engine and began my slow drive. Inside, my heart was pounding with fear and anxiety, I might be digging my own grave, but I might also find out more about my father’s death.

Although I doubt anyone would notice my car, I took the longer route around my school instead of going straight to the café just to make sure no one sees my car. Once the small, cozy café came into view, I parked at one of the many parking spaces available before shifting my car into parking gear.

Just before I hopped out of my car, I looked at my watch and saw I had 2 hours and 20 minutes left to kill. I would’ve left the house later, but mom was home, so I left at the time I usually do to avoid arousing her suspicions.

I locked my car after I got out of it and walked around the quiet street, looking for a place to kill time. Not too long after, my eyes landed on a small bookstore. I smiled to myself as I walked towards it. The old, stained doors squeaked when I pushed them open. The moment I walked into the store, the calming smell of books greeted me.

After nearly touching all the books in the bookstore, I finally saw one that caught my eye. Grabbing it off the bookshelf, I walked to the corner of the bookstore and sat crossed-leg on the floor. I shifted my body a little to make myself more comfortable. The familiar feeling of excitement washed over me as I flipped the book open and started reading the first page.

My stomach grumbled in hunger, pulling me out of the fantasy world the book planted in my mind. Glancing down at my watch, it read 10.45 a.m., which meant I had 15 more minutes. I walked to the counter and paid for the book, impatient to continue reading. Once they handed me the change, I walked out of the bookstore and towards the café while my mind swarmed with thoughts of the story I just read. Pushing open the doors to Zouk, I snagged a seat at the corner of the café, knowing that we would need the privacy, especially if I start getting emotional at the mention of my father.

Just as I was about to open my book and indulge myself with the story, a hooded figure wearing large sunglasses approached the table. I felt my body stiffen as I slowly slid my hand into my handbag and closed my fingers around the pepper spray, poised to attack the moment he does something fishy. He wordlessly handed me a thick, white envelope and walked out of Zouk without even sparing me a second glance.

I not so gently tore open the envelope, fearing what I would find inside, but at the same time, I felt curious. I slowly pulled out a huge stack of paper and a few photos. I started looking through the stack of paper and realized they were all privacy contracts signed by my father, promising everything would be done in private and if he failed to comply, he and his family’s life would be on the line. What businesses would need such privacy? After flipping through all the contracts, I started on the photos. All the photos were of my father and a brown haired man whose face was always covered. In one of the pictures, my father passed the man two stacks of cash while the man passed my father professionally packed box in an uninhabited place.

Why would my dad buy something from someone in such a deserted place? And why were there so many privacy contracts? The envelope raised more questions than give me answers. Just as I was about to put the contracts and photos back in the envelope, I saw a small piece of paper I didn’t notice before. I pulled it out and started reading the messy scrawl.