After filling out the document, Rayla walked out of the police station with slow and heavy steps. She held onto her son's hand tightly like she was afraid of losing him.
It bothered her that William became suddenly withdrawn from her and became rather antisocial after his father was arrested by the police. He always seemed to have a different opinion, arguing that his father wasn't guilty as charged.
Personally, Rayla wanted to believe so. But even if her husband was innocent, what could she do? It wasn't the police she was worried about but how could he fight "him"?
Then again, the evidence was there, all incriminating proofs that he had embezzled funds and also done other shady deals.
It was hard for her to watch her son get bullied every day at school because of what happened to his father when the news came out. She couldn't stand the neighbors treating her and her son as if they were potential time bombs, waiting to steal from them.
She was mad. Mad at her husband, Jeffrey, mad at the neighbors, mad at the kids at school.
She suddenly couldn't stand it any longer and had moved to Raymond Street. It was quiet here and she was barely recognized. It was still hard though.
Now, she didn't know what to do for her son. Was she a bad parent?
Was she not trying enough?
They arrived at their small house in silence, neither speaking.
Will went to his room. He plopped down on the bed and looked aimlessly at the ceiling.
He placed the journal in a small box and put it away. He wasn't worried about what happened today at the police station, rather he was worried about why the police let him go like that. He suspected they wanted something from him.
He lay down reflecting on what he had said to the police. He knew he didn't tell the absolute truth, he didn't dare to tell.
There were some things one couldn't even write down on paper.
That last bit of information about the killer's identity, he couldn't dare write it down, talk less of saying it.
The first time he had seen it, he had attempted to write it into his journal, but....it appeared it caught the attention of someone....
... Someone, so terrifying....
....
After a while, the door to his room creaked open and his mom walked in with a tray of cookies.
Will sat up and rubbed his hands together, not knowing what to do or say.
Rayla placed the tray on the small bedside table and sat beside her son. The duo maintained the silence till it was unbearable and Will decided to speak up.
"Mom? I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to get into trouble."
"I know." Rayla exhaled deeply, "I'm just concerned about your well-being,"
She didn't know what to really say. She was worried about how her child might have caught the attention of a serial killer.
Will nodded slowly.
"I don't want you to do things without thinking. If you notice anything wrong, tell me or the police. Don't form the habit of always believing that you could be alone." Rayla advised.
"Wasn't that the whole essence of living here? To be alone?" Will protested.
"I know. But I wanted to protect you, Will. I can't stand it when you're being treated like an outcast."
"Mom..."
"And don't ever go near murder scenes, or crime scenes of any sort." She said not allowing him to finish.
Will nodded again to indicate that he heard her.
"I know you must think that I'm a bad mother because I can't help your father. The truth is I wanted to. You can't understand how many times I regret that I wasn't strong enough to stand with him. His case is complicated."
She didn't want to say more to her son. He was so young to know about such things.
"You believe dad don't you?" He asked with a serious face.
"My heart does. But I can't do anything to help him." Two lines of tears crawled down her two eyes.
"Dad is innocent, mom." Young Will pressed on.
"I know. And I also know that one day he will be free, and I wouldn't want him to come back only to find that you were in trouble. Promise you'll behave now."
"I promise."
After Rayla left his room, Will tumbled to the small drawer near his reading table. He took out a key and opened the drawer. Inside was another key which he took out.
He bent down and removed a portion of the floor mat revealing a small cut out square. He pushed the key into the tiny hole in the floor and turned it.
CLICK!
It opened. Inside of the underground safe were books, papers, and different gadgets. He carefully took out an old pocket watch.
He stared at it and flipped it over.
"Nothing." He sighed and placed it back in.
His father gave that watch to him shortly before he was arrested.
He said that the evidence needed to rescue him was there.
He always wondered why he didn't give it to mom, now he knew; mom was fragile. She would have discarded it long ago.
He didn't know how to find the evidence, so he would check the watch every day just in case it started vibrating or something.
But mom must never see this....