I didn't realize how much I was prioritizing the grand search for Reneid's heir until Friday afternoon came and I was already looking at the D- mark written on my Biology research paper in blood red ink.
"I'm giving you another chance," Ms. Day said, peering through her eyeglasses at me. She's not a relative but she's really smart so the Institute hired her.
"Because she's a Legacy," one of my two classmates, Liv, muttered, not caring to hide her contempt.
Both of them are my cousins but whereas Robert isn't interested in competing, Liv is. They had both been approved with their library research so I'm kind of disappointed with myself.
"You're right," the professor answered her pointedly. Then she turned her attention back to me and said, "This would've been an A, A- at the least, if you weren't a Legacy. But you are. Therefore I'm expecting more from you, Serena,"
After she let us off, I walked to the locker room with a heavy heart. Seriously, this was after Dad's lecturing about grades and stuff. How was I supposed to face him now? Every Barden parent is alerted by the school about the Barden kids' progress. Or digress, in this case. Before I even knew about this, for sure Dad already did.
Everyone greeted me as soon as I got into the ladies' locker room. Liv wasn't there so I had no reason to be conscious about whether I acted too privileged even among this privileged bunch.
"Are you excited about your sixteenth?" Kaileen, a second cousin, asked from behind me.
I was unloading books in my locker and her sudden presence slightly startled me. A plastic medicine bottle rattled out from my things and onto the floor.
"Sorry," she said with a chuckle while picking it up and handing it back to me.
I smiled back at her, remembering the cute miniature piano she gave me for my birthday last year. Then I replied, "That's fine. And yes, I'm excited for the coming chaos. It's been a while since Bardenwood had sounds inside it. Can I send you outfit choices again?"
Her eyes lit up at that. "Sure!"
Kaileen is a Benefactor, following her dad, Uncle Kyle, first cousin of my father. She's younger than me by a year but our abundance of brothers and depravity of sisters kind of bonded us together. We both actually cried when they decided to move out of the estate. Now I still let her advise me about fashion while I teach her what little I knew about music.
This room is always bright with high-pitched laughter and pop culture chatter. Not all of us are cousins. We have two young aunts with us and young neices. But inside the Institute, we are all just girls who knew we're supposed to be world-changers. Some might be a little misguided but those who had a taste of the outside world always came back home. And even with the academic competition, and yes, including Liv, we all are family. That's why I love loitering around this room before meeting Shane at the front steps.
I was in the act of putting back the bottle of my emergency mild painkillers inside my locker when my eyes landed on the back label. The manufacturer, of course, is Barden Pharmaceuticals. I went there with Dad and a cousin before. It was after Mark's twenty-fifth birthday, when he had started his apprenticeship as the business unit's next VP. I remember where it's based.
That was how I ended up in Dad's home office, Saturday afternoon as soon as his time freed up, doing my best to look cool.
Two nights ago, Shane had knocked on my bedroom door brandishing a wide smile as I welcomed him in.
"I found out where the Olsen's were buried," he immediately declared. "The memorial management also gave me information about who had paid for the lots,"
He was opting for suspense, which I found endearing. My almost forty-year-old uncle and Protector, acting like an excited kid on something that he knew is important to me.
"So who was it?" I prompted him, bouncing on my heels, looking excited myself.
"A Marie Caster," he answered, eyes wide and arms spread out as if presenting a gift, which wasn't far from the truth.
"And guess what," he continued, "We also have an address!"
The D- was a blessing-in-disguise and another lecture from my father was totally worth it. Because Barden Pharmaceuticals is located in Del Carmen and my research paper that needs revision is about medicinal interactions. It's not even an excuse. It's a legitimate reason!
"I think you can call Mark yourself to set an appointment for tomorrow?" Dad said in question form, but I know there's nothing questionable about that.
"Definitely," I still answered.
Dad didn't have so many inquiries. Why would he? He's not suspicious. Nobody is. I know I'm just being paranoid that something might go wrong when we are getting this close.
As soon as I was dismissed, I sent a message to Shane that read, "We're on,"
To which he replied, "Who's up for a field trip?"
Come Sunday and just before lunchtime we arrived at the address the memorial gave us. It is a townhouse, far from expensive but the neighborhood looks peaceful enough, as can be in an urban community. It obviously isn't the high society part of town. We looked out of place in my designer beige dress with matching cashmere red coat and Shane's thousand-dollar suit. A lot of people can see us but since this isn't Woodland, there isn't anyone taking stolen photos. Or so I silently hope.
We reached the front door, Shane rang the bell, and an old lady opened the door for us.
Her eyes are a faded green, her hair's all gray and pulled up in a neat bun, and her back is hunched. But the smile on her face is radiant.
"Good morning, Ma'am," Shane handled the greeting. "Are you, by any chance, Miss Marie Caster?"
The woman's lips sagged a little, dampening the smile, but her voice was still pleasant as she answered, "I'm sorry but no. Marie has passed away sometime back,"
Again, my heart sank for the hundredth time this week. I wondered in frustration how they just kept on dying! Then I remembered, for generations they had cancer cases. And Adeleide Kent's unknown disease might've been undiscovered cancer too.
As if reading my mind, the lady confirmed that it was indeed the dreaded disease that claimed Marie's life.
I didn't know where to go from here and I'm glad Shane's with me. He asked the woman, "We just need to be sure, ma'am, but is she the daughter of Anna and Mario Olsen? Sister of Madison Olsen?"
"Yes, she was," the lady answered. "What did you say this was about again?"
I turned to Shane realizing how unprepared we were for this. Or I was, because he's apparently ready with an excuse.
"Clara's grandfather was friends with the Olsens. We're only here for her school trip but they wanted her to pay a visit. They still don't know she's passed,"
The poor old lady is convinced of that reason, and that my name's Clara and Shane is Peter. I never had to lie to anyone like this before and she seems really nice so I felt bad. But we have no choice.
"Why don't you come in?" she then offered. "David's not going to be home for lunch so I guess I have some for you,"
So we went in. The interior of the house was modern yet very simple. I could see in one glance from the living room through to the dining area and the kitchen at the back. There was a flight of stairs to the second floor where, I assume, the bedrooms would be. I thought about how different it is from where I grew up in. We had room to run around even when my cousins were all there and Hide and Seek was always exciting in Bardenwood. But smaller spaces like this for sure made family really close.
She introduced herself as Elizabeth Callander, Marie's best friend. She took a framed picture perched on a shelf and handed it to us. I received it.
"We never married, both of us. We couldn't afford our own places so we lived here together," she recalled wistfully. She had us sit on her worn yet clean sofa while she sat on a rocking chair adjacent to us. "I think we bonded over the harshness of life. It was better when we found each other, you know. It's just easier when you realize that hardships are normal. That everyone has those,"
I'm fifteen, very young, I know. Any hardship of mine would be a walk in the park for this lovely woman in her eighties.
I looked at Marie's photo. She had strawberry blonde hair, long and wavy, and her eyes were bright and blue. She was beautiful in her fifties, which I assumed her age was when this picture was taken. Maybe Adeleide Caster had been this pretty too.
"It was breast for her, like her mother," Elizabeth continued. "Anna died during a round of chemo and Mario, the husband, just spiralled after that. Even then they wouldn't let Marie near them. But she just couldn't help herself, you know. She was the kindest person I have ever had the chance to meet,"
"The burial," I found myself speaking, to which she nodded. "May I ask what happened? Why did she change her name?"
Elizabeth's face grew dimmer as she answered, "They had a falling out. Disgraceful, they said she was. Her mother was already frail so she couldn't make her husband stop his hatefulness toward Marie. Madison was on her prime in her career so she didn't want to get involved,"
"Did they disown her?"
"She ran away and changed her surname to one of her ancestors. She didn't even want to be a Kent, Anna's maiden name. In a way, she disowned them,"
I couldn't help but smile.
Elizabeth then stood up and went to her kitchen. Shane told me it would be rude to reject her offer of lunch so we quietly waited, listening to cutlery sounds and smelling wonderful lasagna. Moments later she served us the food right there in the living room. As per protocol, Shane took a few bites first and subtly nodded once he was sure that nothing was wrong with it. I then consumed my slice. There's plenty of food at home but there's something about this woman's lasagna that tasted unique to me. I made sure she knew that.
She let us finish our meal first before resuming the conversation. She asked after I took a sip of water, "How old are you, sweet girl?"
"Fifteen, ma'am,"
"You look younger yet sound older," she said with a laugh. "It reminds me of Marie. She's generally carefree and all but when it came to her son, she'd go berserk most of the time!"
My ears perked up and I sensed Shane beside me straighten his back. We looked at each other, then at Elizabeth as she went on.
"To them, a disgrace. But to Marie, her reason to live,"
"So," I started carefully, bracing myself for when she said he's already gone and he didn't have kids, "you mean she had a son out of wedlock? That was their falling out?"
She nodded in response. "Garett was like a son to me too,"
"Was?" I repeated, my heart being eaten by the sinking sand again, but hoping she'd correct herself.
"Yes," she replied, unknowingly killing me inside. "Sadly shortly after his mother's death, his five-year-old daughter followed. Brain cancer. And then the divorce. You know what so much loss does to a person's will to live. He then had pneumonia and that was it,"
"I'm very sorry, Elizabeth," Shane was the one who responded. "For sure those losses were yours too,"
"Indeed,"
We then started to say our goodbyes. There wasn't any point now. This time, I accepted that this was the end for real. We had a good run. We were still able to track down the last of them, just a few years too late. At least now I know, and I can be at peace.
I thanked Elizabeth as she walked to the door. But before we could reach it, she fired up the roller coaster again by saying, "You could've met her grandson if you'd been earlier today,"
Shane and I abruptly stopped and at exactly the same time turned on our heels to face her again.
"Grandson?" my Protector and I repeated in unison. She didn't seem to notice how interested we were and I was glad for that.
"Yes. David,"
Oh, I thought, the one who isn't home for lunch, David.
"He plays the piano for the church down the road. He gets home at one o'clock but he said he needs to work a shift at the coffee shop today. He's a really sweet boy. I took him in my care since his father died and now that he's almost twenty-one, he's taking care of me.
"He's Garett's first-born. His mother left him to us, and didn't even fight for custody. I honestly thought the boy was better off without her but it still broke his heart when we heard she died of liver failure. She had become an alcoholic, you see, and…"
Elizabeth kept on talking but to my ears her voice was trailing off. The story of the boy's mother didn't matter to me. I only cared that the last of them was alive and kicking, playing the piano, going to church, making coffee, breathing in and breathing out.
Shane started to say something but I cut him off with a line of my own.
"He sounds really sweet and I wish we could've met him today," I said, trying to sound regretful. "But I really need to get back to my school stuff, Miss Elizabeth. It was such a great pleasure to meet you,"
We shook hands with her again and went back out the street. When we were far enough, Shane burst out, "What was that? We found him, Serena! And now you don't wanna meet him?"
"It's fine, Shane," I replied as we continued walking down the street to the direction of the church. We passed it by a while ago after we parked the car a way off so we wouldn't look too out of place in this neighborhood.
"We have all the information we need," I continued, "He's in the Church right now. He'd be working at a coffee place later on. All I need is to bump into him,"
"Bump into him?"
"You'll understand, Shane,"
My Protector stopped me on my tracks with a gentle yet firm hand on my shoulder. He turned me around then so we can face each other.
"This has gone on long enough, Serena," he said, now starting to be protective. He isn't gonna humor me anymore. And if I don't tell him now, he'll go to Dad for sure.
But I don't need to tell him the whole truth, do I?
I took a deep breath, then spoke. "I want him to be my first beneficiary. I can't tell you yet why I had to go down this road but I have and I'm gonna finish this. When I imagined we were looking for a woman advanced in years, or a child like me or younger, I thought it was alright to pick her just like that. But now that we know it's actually a guy in his twenties or something I realize that first, I have to make sure he's worth it. Or if he's a good enough person,"
We started walking again as I continued, "What if he goes to church on Sunday's but blackmails politicians during the weekdays? You know, stuff like that,"
"We can get someone from the Benefactors to investigate," Shane replied, still not amused by my half-truths. "I can do it myself if you're still keeping it a secret,"
"But I wanna be able to point a finger at him as I choose him, given that he proves to be it," I said, sort of quoting Henry and hoping Shane remembers. He doesn't, though.
"Okay then. Let's look him up together, see where he studies, if he does, and-"
"No, Shane," I interrupted. "I'm not interested in his grades or whatever ingenuity he has,"
"Then what are you interested in?" he finally asked as we found the said church and stood in front of it.
There's still music coming out from inside. Or is it the pastor delivering his sermon? It looks like a small church, not even the size of one Bardenwood wing. The building is made of stone and the front double doors are of hard wood. The glass windows are plain, not the usual strained and patterned ones I see in the movies.
I've never been to church so I don't know how it's supposed to look like. Or how we are supposed to look like. I just have a feeling that my red coat will tell on us again so I shrugged it off of my shoulders and folded it over my left arm.
I stepped closer to the door and I thought, What indeed is my criterion? What do I want to see?
"His soul," I finally answered, reaching for the handles so I can open it and we can get in.
But Shane stopped me, saying, "Looks like service is still on going,"
I looked at him and smiled. "Well then, I guess we're going to church," Then I pushed the door and welcomed myself in, Shane hesitantly following behind me.
Indeed it's a tiny church. Only about seven or eight rows and two columns of pews, and a small stage that looked too crowded with the people and their musical instruments and the praying pastor. The pew nearest to the front door has an empty space that can fit both Shane and I so we went for it and sat down.
"Please all stand," the pastor said to his microphone when my posterior barely even touched the wooden chair.
Everybody stood in compliance to the wishes of the short guy who's surely younger than Shane but already out of shape. He also has gray streaks along his hairline. I was looking at him, trying to decipher if the warmth in his eyes is a stage performance, when he looked directly at me too.
He smiled. Then he said, "I'm glad you came,"
The pastor then looked around the others, oblivious of the goosebumps he just caused me, and invited us all to "sing for the Lord".
Right then, music filled the room. No more voices, no more claps. Just notes arranged next to each other to create a melody that caused the brain and the heart to agree. It's coming from the left end of the stage. Perched sideways up there is a small, old piano. Hunched over it's keys, letting his fingers drift along them in practiced yet still natural expertise, is a dark-haired guy in a navy blue sweater. He didn't seem to be tall, although it's hard to tell with him sitting down, but he surely looked athletic.
David, I thought. I found him, Arthur.
David is meters away from where I stood so I can't see his facial features clearly. But I do see him closing his eyes and swaying along with the beat and rhythm of the song. He's not just playing the piano. He's making it sing.
I hadn't noticed that the whole room started singing too. A new guy has taken over the microphone, letting his voice lead the others'.
"Thy pow'r throughout . . ." he sang, "the universe displayed . . ."
The lyrics are projected against the center of the wall behind the stage. I've never heard this one before.
Then sings my soul
My Savior God, to thee
How great Thou art
How great Thou art
How old is this song? I wondered. 'Thee'? 'Thou art'? Even Henry didn't write like that.
When it ended, so did the service. Everyone started leaving their seats, greeting each other pleasantly along the way. I heard someone remind someone else that they were supposed to meet on Tuesday. Others are asking for prayers. While Shane and I are trying to be inconspicuous so no one would ask who we are. Then I heard someone call David.
Confirming that our guy is indeed the piano guy, he stood up and headed toward the person who called him. He really isn't as tall as Kai, I just observed. He'd maybe only be a foot and a half taller than me. But his stature and walk added an illusion to his height.
After a few words between them and the pastor, he went through the side door with a "RESTROOMS THIS WAY" sign.
I turned to Shane and said in a low voice, "Can you wait outside for me, please?"
"What? No!" he replied in a little less quiet tone.
"You have to because I'm going to 'bump into him' and it would look less scripted if I were by myself,"
"I'm not leaving you alone, Serena,"
"No one's gonna kill me here, Shane, it's a church,"
He's getting frustrated but he knows I'm right. Not about the safety of a church building but that a script is easier to carry if there are fewer characters in the scene.
"Fine. I'll wait by that door. And turn your comms on,"
Dad insisted on earpiece and mic sets whenever we went as far as the next county. It doesn't have to be always turned on but when I'm out of Shane's sights, it's required.
So we agreed, then we moved toward the said door, trying not to bump into happy church-mates. When we reached it, Shane remained outside while I stepped in to find myself in a dimly lit hallway which is perpendicular to another. On the wall opposite me, just visible to someone who hasn't turned the corner yet, we're the bathroom signs. To the left is for the guys and the girls' is to the right.
I didn't see anyone else come into this hallway earlier but paranoia is kicking in again so I'm suddenly not so sure. But only moments later, I heard the door to the male comfort room swing open and then shut close. Someone, David for sure, walked out of it and is now closing in on me. So I braced myself for the impact.
I saw his left foot appear first on the floor from around the corner, then with my head down, I took a step forward like a girl on a mission.
I forgot to consider that he's a twenty-year-old, physically fit man while I'm a fifteen-year-old girl who's one jog away from being underweight. Too late now for the realization as I'm already flying backwards. Until I wasn't anymore because David's hands caught my arm, steadying me.
"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, his deep voice sounding modulated and natural at the same time.
Why is everything about him so musical? I thought. And then, Shouldn't I be the one apologizing?
As soon as I gained my composure, I replied, "It's my fault. I wasn't looking,"
He reached down to grab my coat, which flew into a red cashmere puddle on the floor between us. When he handed it to me, I gingerly accepted, fully aware of how he was staring at it as if trying to guess how much it cost, and why a tiny teenage kid would wear it.
"If you're going to the ladies' room . . ." he pointed at the signs on the wall.
"Oh!" I laughed. "I see that. I'm sorry,"
I then followed his direction while rummaging through my brain for ideas to have a proper conversation with him. I slowed my pace down to buy some time when David called with a "Hey!"
Thank you! I said in my mind.
"Is it your first time in the well?"
"Um . . ." was all I could manage.
"Oh sorry. If you really need to use the ladies-"
"No!" I inwardly flinched at my obvious excitement, but he didn't seem to notice so I continued, "I mean, I just . . . The well?"
He laughed then, more at himself than me, and I can't help but stare at his smile.
Then he said, "Of course you wouldn't understand if it's your first time here. 'Well of the Covenant Christian Church'. That's us. Welcome!"
"Thank you," I replied, the ideas finally forming in my head. "I'm not really a church-goer so this is my first time at all,"
"Really?" he sounded interested. "What made you come here then?"
You. Your exponential great-grandfather. "The music," I heard myself lie.
"Yeah?" he flashed me that smile again but this time with a hint of embarrassment. "The worship team will be honored,"
I smiled back before countering my previous lie with a truth. "The way you handled that off-key bit towards the end was perfection. No one would have noticed,"
"You did,"
I shrugged. "No one else would have noticed,"
He then reached a hand across the space between us and said, "I'm David Caster,"
I shook his hand. "Serena," and no surname because a lot of towers in this town also held "Barden" on the signs.
"Pleasure. I guess I'll see you around, then?" he asked.
"I guess not. I'm not from around here,"
Before he could ask exactly around where I'm from, I gestured that I really need to go to the bathroom. He then said goodbye and I practically ran. He's free to think it was because of my bladder and not because I needed to contact my Protector-slash-accomplice as soon as possible.
I locked the door, checked the stalls and when I was sure I'm safe, I pressed the button that turned my microphone on. It was attached to the collar of my dress, obscured from the world.
"Shane!" I whispered into the mic. "He's going out. I need you to talk to him. Can you hear me?"
Through my earpiece, I heard him clear his throat. So I continued, "Please find out where he's working today,"
Again, the throat clearing.
"Thank you, you're the best,"
I looked at myself in the mirror while waiting for Shane. I'm not sure if my excitement and nerve are showing or I simply know this about myself. I just wish David didn't suspect anything at all. I wish he doesn't watch gossip news. Or read Elite Magazine. He didn't look like he'd be interested in those things anyway. Elizabeth was right in saying how nice and sweet he is. What she didn't warn me about was also how dreamy.
"Stop it!" I scolded myself out loud.
I don't meet a lot of people so of course he's good-looking to me. And I'm not supposed to think about boys when I'm on a mission! In fact, I shouldn't be thinking about boys at all. And David's old. And as if it's ever gonna happen. And-
"MonRoast?" Shane's voice flickered into life through my earpiece. "That's the name of the cafe?"
I heard a distant laughter and a faded voice say, "I know. Cheesy, right?"
Then the sound faded as Shane let go of his mic.
I muttered a "thank you" to him and pulled my phone out of my sling bag. I typed in a message, sent it, then headed out of the bathroom, through the hallway, and out the door where Shane's waiting. Just then, I received a reply that read, "Sure. See you in an hour, Ren,"
Pretending not to see David, I immediately addressed my Protector. "Mark just texted," Then I pretended, again, to finally see the guy just now. I smiled and waved.
"What did he say?" Shane asked in a normal tone, as if he knows what we're talking about.
"A coffee shop called 'MonRoast'," I answered, trying to sound unsure about the trademark name.
Shane, making me love him even more, widened his eyes and slightly dropped his jaw and turned to David. "Ah! Is that a chain or something?"
"No," the younger man answered. "There's only one. Are you meeting someone there?"
"In an hour," I was the one who responded. "And I see you've met,"
David smiled again, which he really should stop doing in front of me, and said, "Yeah. Your uncle was getting worried something had held you back in there. And by the way, I'll be filling in for a shift in MonRoast later. What a coincidence!"
"Indeed," I muttered, silently asking for forgiveness. "I guess I'll see you after all. It's a pleasure to meet you, really,"
We bade him goodbye and me and my uncle went off. Out of the church doors, out of that street, into the car, and onto Phase 2 of my plan.