— Rowan
I had to stop reading right there, because I genuinely couldn’t see the page clearly anymore.
Chapter 3: The Road to Cedar Vale
Bryony was crying openly now beside me. « He was genuinely alive? » I looked at her, then back down at the letter again. « I genuinely don’t know what he actually is right now. » The principal spoke for the very first time then. « I know Rosalia. » We all turned toward her at once.
She looked genuinely pale. « Not personally, exactly. But my predecessor used to mention her occasionally. She volunteered at that home, years and years earlier. Once the investigations properly started, her name kept surfacing repeatedly, inside old archived files. She was actually one of the very few people who genuinely tried reporting concerns at the time. »
One of the officers nodded firmly. « We’ve already checked into it. Rosalia is genuinely real. Still alive. Still living in Cedar Vale, actually. »
Bryony’s voice came out small. « Why didn’t Dad simply come back home, though? » The room fell entirely quiet at that. Then the officer answered gently. « We genuinely don’t know yet, honestly. But if he believed the people around him were thoroughly corrupt, he may have genuinely thought staying away was the only real way protecting you both, until he’d finally gathered enough actual proof. »
I hated that particular answer, purely because it made entirely too much sense to me.
Bryony looked at me then, genuinely looked at me, like she was scared I might actually break apart completely, right there in front of her. Instead, I reached over and held her face steady in both my hands.
« Listen to me carefully, » I said. « Whatever we actually discover next, you are still, entirely my daughter. Nothing touches that fact. Nothing at all. » She nodded once and covered my hands with her own. Then she asked quietly, « What exactly do we actually do now? » For the first time in months, I genuinely knew the answer. « We go to Cedar Vale. »
One of the officers said, « We can genuinely arrange an escort for you both, by morning. »
That same night, Bryony and I packed one single bag together. I was so genuinely exhausted I had to sit down twice, simply folding clothes, but adrenaline genuinely does strange things to an already sick body. At one point, I looked over and saw Bryony carefully placing the wig she’d made me on top of my folded things, so it wouldn’t get crushed accidentally in transit.
« After everything that happened today, you’re genuinely still worried about my wig? » I asked her. She gave me a weak, tired smile. « Obviously I am. » I sat down beside her on the bed. « We may genuinely not like whatever we actually find tomorrow. » « I know that already. » « We may genuinely find out your father made choices I honestly don’t fully understand myself. » « I know. » « But we go together, regardless. » That finally got the very first real expression out of her, since we’d left that office. She leaned into my shoulder and whispered softly, « Always. »
I barely slept at all that night. Somewhere close to dawn, I realized that for the first time in an entire year, the thing beating hardest inside my own chest genuinely wasn’t fear anymore. It was hope instead.
By morning, we’d be driving straight toward a small blue house, near a church, out in Cedar Vale. Toward a woman who might genuinely know exactly why Rowan had vanished in the first place. Toward answers tied directly to Bryony, to me, and to an entire life I’d genuinely thought had been buried fifteen years earlier already
