Firethorne

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Maya

T rust no one.

That’s what the note said.

Fear and dread flooded my system, my already chilled veins froze as my stomach rolled, and instantly, I screwed the message up. But I didn’t want to throw it away. Something deep inside told me to hold onto it. So, I slid it into my jacket pocket, and stood up, telling my father, “I’ll be right back,” as I strode forward, following the passenger as he headed into the next carriage, intent on finding him and asking him what he meant, what he knew.

Why was he hellbent on giving me that note?

I opened the carriage door and walked into the next part of the train, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. He wasn’t here. He’d moved on.

I stalked the length of the train to try and find him, but he was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he’d evaporated into thin air.

If it wasn’t for the scrap of paper sitting safely in my pocket, I might’ve questioned what I saw or whether he’d even existed. But he had, and his note, that he’d haphazardly dropped into my lap, had been a warning. A warning that made all the red flags I’d been seeing fly higher. But at this point, I knew trying to talk my father out of this was pointless. It was too late. We were already on the train, and his heart was set on this move. I didn’t want to be the one to break it.

So, I kept that note in my pocket. Kept the words at the forefront of my mind, and I swore I would protect us from a fall this time.

I would be on my guard.

Always.

After what we’d been through, I didn’t trust anyone. Only my father. And that’s why I was standing by him now.

“Are you okay?” my father asked as I approached our seats and sat back down, trying not to show any hint of fear on my face.

“I needed to stretch my legs,” I replied, smiling, and then I turned to look out of the window, trying not to show that I was feeling any sort of way. And he nodded, happy with my explanation.

I wasn’t happy though, and after a breath, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Are you sure this is the right thing? I mean, we know nothing about this family. How do we know we can trust them? What if we’re walking into some kind of trap?”

My father scoffed. “What trap? I’ve told you everything you need to know about the Firethornes. This is going to be good for us. You need to trust me, Maya.”

There it was again.

Trust.

That word was starting to haunt me.

I’d asked him about the family multiple times.

I’d questioned him until I was blue in the face.

But the response was always the same.

They were a family with a proud reputation. A private family. One that was revered and respected. A family that my father knew very little about, judging from the sweeping statements of their standing and wealth. I tried to dig below the surface, but it was pointless. I knew I’d have to wait and see for myself. And sitting on the train, I still stood by that decision, paper warnings or not. My father was adamant he was going to do this, so I would support him. He was vulnerable and he needed me.

“I do trust you,” I told him. “It’s other people I don’t trust.”

My father smiled sadly and patted my knee. “It’s been a tough time. I know that. But it’s all going to be okay now.” Then he moved his hands to his lap, wringing them nervously as he stared straight ahead. “The estate sounds perfect. The main house backs on to a beautiful lake. Just think about taking a morning stroll around there.” He sighed wistfully, staring blindly into space, like he was marvelling at an ethereal image of the grand estate he’d already fallen in love with but never seen in real life. “Or a run.” He turned to smile at me again, warmth radiating from his face. “I know how much you love your morning runs.”

“Let’s hope it’s not a run for our lives then, hey?” I remarked, but he ignored me, still lost to his dreams as he added, “I’ll need to read up on the different wildlife, the vegetation, all of the trees and flowers. I need to get this right.”

I let out a slow breath and let my head fall back against the headrest, closing my eyes as I replied, “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You always do a good job; whatever it is you’re doing.”

Only, he hadn’t, had he? He hadn’t done the best job as a financial advisor. He’d lost everything.

A good reputation is the easiest thing to lose and the hardest thing to rebuild. We were learning that the hard way.

“You should always take pride in your work,” he responded, but I was too bone tired, too weary to reply. Pride in your work meant honour, too. Honesty. Things he’d sometimes managed to forget along the way.

Trust no one.

Those words echoed, resounding in my head, but I ignored them, for now, and reached out my hand to take his.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said. “This will be a new beginning for us.”

They were the words he wanted to hear. Saying anything else at this moment in time was pointless, even I knew that. We were about to embark on something, and what that was I had no idea.

He squeezed my hand and gave me a warm smile that was too jovial, too elated for the unknown we were heading into.

“You’re right. We have employment, food to eat, a roof over our heads. What more could we possibly need?”