What Happened to Erin Book 2: The Lost Heirs

My head rests against the sill of the rental car window. Rainy tears streak down the glass. They run, battling their trajectory, then free fall until the brink. They gather themselves into bulbous droplets, huddled together as if they’re cold.

Bored, I shift, flopping over onto my other side to watch my dad. His one hand is on the wheel and the other is idle on his lap. His loam-gray eyes are trained ahead of him, his scythe eyebrows furrowed with intensity.

So pensive.

I hope he’s having regrets. Wondering if abandoning us to estranged relatives is really a wise choice. I know he’s doing it for our own good, but on behalf of my brothers, I would like to think that we would all prefer to stay together.

Since Mom walked out, it’s always been us four, through hail and fire. But it seems our limit has exceeded. Fate is cruel, robbing us of yet another parent.

“Having second thoughts?” I ask, the last minutes, moments, I have with him. I will exploit them mercilessly.

Besides, we don’t know when we’ll see him again.

He glances at me and a smile accentuates his half-moon cheeks.

“Regret taking you on a vacation to meet your family? Never.”

Here we go again.

“Distant family,” I correct, with all the loathing I can muster. “You’re my family, not some relatives that I didn’t even know existed until it was convenient for us to know.”

His head on a swivel, he manages to impale me with several sharp looks.

“You better watch yourself,” he cautions, his voice like bottled thunder, rumbling with verve.

My teeth grip on my words, clenching my jaw. I peer over my shoulder to take a peek at my brothers in the backseat. Atticus sits upright with his legs wide open, too long to be kept closed.

A far-off look in his eyes, he gazes out of the window with a pair of black headphones nestled on his ears, music volume blaring at the maximum. Joshua lies beside him, sound asleep, his head perched on his lap. Atticus’s one hand runs through the dome cut of Joshua’s dark curly locks, fingers combing through his hair absently.

I look back at my dad with a no-nonsense look on my face.

“You’re going to do what you feel is best anyway, and I will respect that. But please, at least don’t feed us with lies that we’re going to some kind of family reunion.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, his hand lifts to scratch his gritty, full-grown beard.

Unbelievable. He’s going to lie again.

“Lele, it is a reunion because you’re meeting a part of your family that you haven’t before.”

Told you.

I release a dry laugh.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m not Joshua’s age anymore. You’re going to have to put much more effort into lying than that, daddio.”

He dodges my gaze, fixing his eyes ahead of him again, disconnecting.

Not this time.

Since I can remember, for his sake, despite what I knew and what I didn’t, I nodded, did what I was told and soldiered on as always. But before we are deserted to God knows where, I want the truth for once.

I straighten in my seat, setting my facade-melting stare on him.

“Back home. You don’t think I found it weird that you had uncalled meetings with our schools?”

He doesn’t budge.

I probe further.

“Without a destination in mind, you tell us to start packing, what we can carry we keep, other non-essentials are to be boxed and put into storage. Days later, then only, did you announce the surprise family reunion,” I say, needling him unabatingly for more information.

He wipes his mouth with his hand, his jaw ticking.

“I think the real giveaway was the eviction notice.”

“Enough,” he whispers harshly.

Struck a nerve. Bullseye.

He shoots a panicked look over his shoulder. He visibly deflates when he sees Joshua sleeping contentedly, and he looks forward again.

“Why I don’t tell you these things is not to treat you like a child, but at the end of the day. You are one. I don’t care that you’re eighteen or the eldest, you’re still my baby girl and I don’t want my baby burdened by daddy’s problems. Worry about exams, your finals, friends, not about—”

“Where we’re going to live? How we’re going to survive?”

He winces like my words wounded him. Consequently, hurting myself.

“They retrenched me from the construction company, been trying to look for a job ever since but to no avail.” His knuckles whiten around the wheel. “Time passed and the debts kept piling on each other, bills unpaid, mortgage unpaid. We lost the house.”

A world’s weight of guilt hangs around my heart causing it to sink to the depthless pit of my stomach.

“Baba, why didn’t you say anything? I could have taken a job and—”

“And nothing,” he seethes, jabbing his palm against the top of the wheel. “No, you and Atticus are going to finish school, graduate then by sweat and blood. You will go to university, get a degree, and get a chance at a better life. That’s all I ever wanted was to give you three…a better life. No matter the cost.”

I inhale a deep breath, closing my eyes for several moments. An unseen force threatens to kick my world off its axis, tears cracking through my hard-wearing composure.

I grapple for my calm.

I open my eyes, my gaze drawn to his outdated android, fitted in the stand. The active GPS speaks, its electronic voice utters new directions.

“Baba, we already have a good life,” I murmur. “The house is just a house; our home is our family and family stick together.”

“No, Lele. A house is a shelter,” he snaps. “Something as basic as that, I can’t even provide.”

I open my mouth to retort. He chops down a hand to cut me off.

“I raked my brain trying to figure out what I’m going to do. Joshua’s school was aware of this and threatened to call social services. I lied and said I was going to take you all to live with my side of the family for some time.”

He tilts his head to the side, then he frees a hollow laugh.

“Turns out it wasn’t a lie. I eventually found them, contacted them and they replied swiftly.”

“The Apions,” I say, for the first time without contempt in my tone. “So, they just agreed to accommodate us?”

He scratches his beard. I arc a brow.

“It’s a good thing the holidays are around the corner. Think of it as just taking an earlier break.”

“Baba,” I chide.

He yields and continues, “I told them the truth, I was desperate. All I need is time to get back up on my feet. I just don’t know how long that will take.”

Then he adds, “I learned they lived abroad, and knowing my situation, they paid for our flights and lent me enough money to rent this car so that I could drive you to them myself. To make sure that you’ll be happy and safe, just until I come back.”

I sneak a glance at the backseat. Atticus’s one headphone had slid off his ear, his gaze still far-flung.

He’s listening.

I say nothing. He deserves to know, same as I.

“So, Mr. and Miss Apion are totally cool with having two teens and a kid crash at their place for…an unset amount of time?”

Baba bobs his head. “More than happy,” he says truthfully.

“Look.” He steals another glance at Joshua through the rear-view mirror. “I know this isn’t ideal, and this is the last thing I ever wanted to put you through. But I need to face the reality that—” His voice breaks as if the words are too painful to speak.

He looks away momentarily, a storm gathering in his gaze.

“I can’t take care of you,” he pronounces each syllable strenuously. “I only need a bit of time before I’m able to again, then I will come right back, you know that. Don’t you?”

I look at him and I feel as if for the first time in a long time, we see each other.

“Of course I know that.” I punch his beefy arm lightly. “One way or another, we all do,” I say more to Atticus than to him. “I just hope it’s soon.”

He nods sullenly. “Me too, child.”

The summer rains ceased and the windows’ tears are dried to dust. We are navigated uphill and the road seems to wind endlessly ahead.

It seems each house we pass, they grow in size and mount in affluence. Opulent homes encrusted by luxuriant foliage, trees rowed in precision and healthy hedges trimmed into neatness. Open driveways flaunt expensive cars that stand on display.

We exit the wealthy neighborhood and ascend even higher.

We traverse the narrow road that unfurls into a dense copse of trees. The car cruises down a wide private road flanked by a sequence of centurion trees.

Beyond, a forest of verdant nature crowns the broad hilltop, sprawling down its spine. A canopy of vivid leaves loom above, curious beams of tree-filtered light sift through the leaves as if trying to glimpse the new visitors.

On the horizon, a Hades-black gate soars, lengthening in width. I spot a security booth in the left-hand corner with two armed guards manning the booth, both of them are outfitted in a burgundy uniform.

Baba slows the car to a halt, right before the tall iron gates bedecked with a crown of wrought thorns on its head, except for the letter molded into the center. A.

Baba’s window slides down halfway and soon a man’s head appears behind it. A military-looking gun occupies both hands, positioned across his chest, staring stonily at each of us.

“Hi, I’m here to see Mr. and Miss Apion,” he says slowly, his eyebrows rumpling as his eyes dart to each visible guard on duty.

I count four. The one in the booth, the two outside of it and the one beside our car.

Well, this is insane security. Who the hell are the Apions?

“Mr. Ballo, yes. They’ve been expecting you,” he says flatly, no distinguishable emotion present.

He straightens out of my field of view. He saunters to walk forward and signals at one of the guards, then he reacts, twisting his torso to pound a few knocks on the booth’s door.

Promptly, the ‘A’ in the top center of the gate splits in half and the gate grandly opens inwards, as if opening its wrought arms in welcoming.

Baba thanks the guard with a small wave. The station-wagon-styled car smoothly rolls forwards, breaching.

This is not what I was expecting.

And neither did Atticus. He inhales a sharp breath as he bolts upright, jolting Joshua awake.

My jaw slackens and both hands cup over my mouth as if to hold it together.

The front yard itself is acres of virescent green pastures, a football-size field on either side of us. The single, paved prime palaver of the road is fringed with queues of manicured shrubbery that guide us further down the straightened path.

“Baba, where are we?” Joshua drawls, prolonging his vowels, sleep still weighing on his words.

The manor itself is a sight to behold, four tiers of architectural supremacy. A wreath of stone towers adorns its head.

The coat of the broad-breasted manor is a roasted ivory hue, like the color of sun-drenched sand. Emerald green trailing plants cling to the walls, ropes of dark vines twine around the cathedral-like windows.

The expansive property itself crests a cliff with the crystal blue sea, yawning to the marked boundary of the horizon. I can smell it, the briny scent of the ocean breeze, carried by the sharply salty-scented winds.

The gradation of the road from the prime palaver leads into the extensive cobblestone parking lot. The right-hand side has a steep decline that must lead to an underground garage.

The car glides to the left and he parks perfectly in the demarcated zone.

Baba turns off the ignition, the engine powers down. “Listen up,” he announces in his serious voice, looking at the boys through the rear-view mirror.

Atticus removes his headphones and rests his head against the seat with his chin raised, his Adam’s apple bopping.

Joshua scrambles to sit up, slanted, leaning against his brother, more for comfort than stability.

“I want you all to be on your best behavior, do you hear me?” His gaze bounces to me then back at the boys with a fear-evoking look.

“Yes, Baba,” we all say in unison.

“Listen to Mr. and Miss Apion, but also remember to enjoy yourselves. They are your family after all. They’re blood and there’s nothing more sacred than that.”

“Baba, are you going to fetch us before the school holiday ends? I promised Ben we’d hang out when I get back home. Aunt Eveline promised to take us to the new water park.”

Dad’s expression grows dim, a woeful pall cast across his face.

“Yeah, Baba,” Atticus says, speaking up for the first time since we landed here. “When are we going home?” He asks merely to stoke the flames. He has a penchant for chaos, something he must’ve inherited from our mother.

Baba shifts in his seat, pivoting his torso so that he can look at them, at least try to since Atticus is tucked away from his vision, seated directly behind him.

“Well…a wise woman once said that a real home is with your family.” He looks at me pointedly.

Baba and I share a wholehearted smile.

“So as long as you’re with your sister and brother, you will always be at home. And Baba is not far behind, you’ll see me soon, my boy. Just enjoy your holiday. And guess what?”

Joshua perks up with excitement. “What?”

Dad slaps a hand on the bolster of the seat. “Mr. and Miss Apion have…horses.”

“Really?” A grin explodes on his face. Thrilled, he drums his hands on his thighs, unable to contain himself.

Dad’s gaze lifts and he nods his head upwards. “Yeah, you can ask them yourselves.”

I jerk around to see the tall, iron-bound double doors open outward. Two figures emerge in the frame.

The Venetian brown giants beside them render the two specks in comparison. Afterward, a string of maidservants flow out of the threshold, clothed in a maroon uniform with white aprons tied around their waists and their hair pulled into the tightest low buns I have ever seen.

Dad pops his door open and climbs out, moving to the trunk of the car. I look at Atticus and, although he’s right in front of me, he might as well be oceans away.

“Hey, you okay?”

He scoffs and shakes his head at me condescendingly. “What do you think?” His tone is slick with derision.

I pull a face, scolding him with an austere look. “Things could be a lot worse, Atty.”

He then looks me dead in the eyes like I’m completely transparent. “No. It literally can’t.”

He opens the door, bursting out. Josh is quick to follow after him.

I look forward, inhaling a ready breath, giving myself a big-sister pep talk to boost my spirit and be ready to take on what comes next with full force.

I don’t have a choice to be ready because breaking down has never been my option, not while my brothers are looking to me to be at least the illusion of strength. They need to know that no matter what, they’ll always have me.

I exit the vehicle.