B.L.O.O.D (BlackRose)
Seventy Seven
Boston, Massachusetts, United States.
A modern British-style minimalist house, with white paint and green wooden fences. There was a rocking chair right on the porch of the house, and a small table next to it, as well as some garden tools that looked like they had just been used.
Angel stared at the house, her memory as if switching to her past. I don't know what it is, which obviously has to do with the rocking chair made of rattan. Angel stepped in and knocked on the door slowly.
“Excuse me, is anyone home?”
“Who's there?” there was a scream from inside the house. “Shortly!!”
Angel could hear footsteps coming down the stairs and walking towards the door.
Clamps...
“There can be helped?”
A girl was wearing a short black t-shirt, and long jeans. With straight blonde hair, pale white skin. She also wears deep black eye makeup, as well as her lipstick. At first glance he is very similar to the figure of teenage idol singer Avril Lavigne.
“Halo?? What do you want?”
Angel who had been daydreaming before looked at the girl standing in front of him gasped in surprise.
“Is your mother home?”
“Are you a salesperson?” instead of answering the girl asked back. “My mother is not home, in going to her brother's place”
Lies.
Angel could conclude in an instant. “You tried to trick me? Your mother may have just finished gardening, judging from her equipment that is still wet because it was washed out.”
The girl glanced at her mother's garden equipment which had been cleaned up.
“If I deduce from your appearance, there is no way you did that dirty work.”
“Alright, fine.” The girl was shaking her lips. “Ibuuu..someone is looking for you!!!”
“Please enter.” Reluctantly the girl escorted Angel inside and then left her alone.
Five minutes later came a middle-aged woman, in her forties with pale skin and shoulder-length blonde hair. He seemed to have washed his hands, it could be seen from the cloth he was holding.
“Some of which can I help you? But, before you explain a lot of things I reiterate first that I will not buy a single product that you sell. Whatever it is.”
“Unfortunately I am not here to sell products, but want to ask if this is really Mr Martin Luther's house?”
“Yeah, he's my husband. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I want to see him.”
“What are you?” The woman's eyes seemed to be teary, as if they were withstanding deep pain and Angel could conclude that there would be a misunderstanding.
“This lady is not what you think.”
“You must be here because of the legacy, right?”
Angel breathed a sigh of relief, it turned out that the woman had known about it.
“I'm glad if you've learned this, I just want to see Mr. Martin. Is he home?”
“Your father died months ago. However, beyond my expectations he had already written a will. He has confessed all that he has another wife besides me. A reality so painful, and he also requested that I give the inheritance to the daughter of his second wife.” The woman began to cry bitterly, she loved her husband very much and it was very obvious.
“But, where have you been all this time. You should have come to your father's funeral, what kind of child you are.”
“Sorry madam, it turns out you did misunderstand. I'm not here for that kind of legacy, it's about—“
“Mother, what's up?” The girl who had welcomed Angel came with a tray filled with drinks, she put it on the table before turning to hug her mother who was sobbing. “What are you?”
‘Gosh what kind of drama is this' Inner Angel.
“It's not about that, you guys misunderstood. I came here because of your husband. I mean, your late husband was my father Robert's lawyer. He left the will to your husband.”
“Oh..” the woman stopped crying. “It turns out you're the son of my husband's colleague. But, my husband has—“
“I understand, it's just that I desperately need the letter because our lives are now in danger.”
Angel acted as if she was a helpless weak girl.
“Is your mother sick?”
“I don't even have a mother.”
The woman and girl looked at each other, then turned towards Angel. A look that seems to say, poor as you are son or I am grateful to still have a mother.
“I'm not sure about this, but maybe I can check out my late husband's workspace. Perhaps, he kept the letter somewhere.”
“Can I come?”
“Sure.”
“Sorry, I haven't cleaned this room in a long time. I'll take a broom and mop, you can start first.”
However, just as Angel was about to step in someone patted her on the shoulder slowly.
“I'm sorry, I understand how you feel now. Sorry for my treatment.” Now the girl stuck out her hand. “My name is Gracelina my friend used to call me Grace, if I may know what your name is?”
“Aqila.” Only that name currently matches his appearance that resembles that of an Asian, after all that name is now listed in Robert's will.
They are now starting to search, starting from the bookshelf and drawers in the room.
“You know, Your name is a little weird for Americans.” Grace asked breaking the silence.
“Yes, my mother is Asian. I think my mom gave it to me.” Angel answered while still searching, now he was finished on the bookshelf, and looked towards the desk of the late master Martin.
Grace is busy compiling the books that fell as Angel searches for the letter. “What is his legacy much?”
Not only many, the legacy is even more valuable than expected.
“Ya, more or less so.” Angel walked slowly towards Mr. Martin's desk.
He found a small box that was locked. ‘About what is it?’
Angel's curiosity makes him less focused and ignoring Grace, he keeps the box in his jacket. As he was leaving the table he saw a photograph with three people, one woman, one man and one child about four years old.
“Hey, didn't you hear me?”
“This photo?”
Grace approached and took the photo. “Gosh, I can't believe you're still keeping it. This is a picture of me and my parents, at that time I was four years old.”
A glimpse of the shadow from the memories of the past made Angel bowed limp.
“Dad and my mom love me so much, this year there is a special camp for dad's day at school, if only my dad was alive.” Grace looks brooding “But, at least I'm lucky to still have a mother while you—“
Grace glanced at Angel's face, Angel looking in shock with Angel's teary eyes. Angel's face was also red, Grace felt that maybe she was wrong in the delivery or something.
“Ah, forgive me. I didn't mean—“
“No problem, I'm sorry. Thanks for the help.”
Angel ran down the stairs, Grace's mother heard Angel's hasty steps and rebuked her.
“Be careful, you can fall. Did you find him?”
Grace's mother could see Angel teary-eyed, Angel trying to keep looking ordinary.
“I said goodbye first, there was a sudden affair. Thanks for the help.”
“Hey—“
Angel quickly ran out of the house and wiped her tears.
Meanwhile, Arnold and the others who had been waiting in the car were surprised by the appearance of Angel who ran out of the corner to the car.
Plukkkp..
Bukk....
“Street.”
Everyone was surprised to see what Angel did.
“Hey, relax what happened?”
“Jalannn!!!”
Arnold stepped on the gas pedal and drove like a madman, white smoke coming out of the tyre of the car rubbing against the asphalt.
“What happened? Do they know we're here?” Ricard asked curiously.
“Not.”
“Then?”
“Martin is dead, and I am the killer.”
“What?” everyone was shocked to hear Angel's statement.
“You're kidding?” Louis.
“Yeah, you guys didn't hear wrong. Martin Luther had been killed months ago, and I was the one who killed the man
Arnold turned the corner and stopped his car in one of the narrow alleys, jolting the car and almost overturning.
“You!!!”
