Chapter 7 - Missing Person

"Are you out of your bloody mind, Henry?"

Henry averted his gaze from his brother, Chris, who was staring at him like he was an idiot. Standing next to him, Morgan was shaking his head.

"You fool. Have you not ever considered that maybe someone was trying to pin that on her?" questioned the military man, "Bruh. Think about it. It's Lika. That girl couldn't even hurt a fly. Do you really think that she is capable of poisoning someone, let alone poisoning her best friend's fiancee?"

"The evidence speaks for itself," Henry argued, his jaw set defensively.

"What evidence? Those are circumstantial," countered Morgan, his expression baffled as he looked at his little brother's face, as if he had grown a set of antlers on his head.

"She never liked Annika and I knew it–"

"–So what? So she went ahead and poison her? Are you even listening to yourself?" Chris wondered, dumbfounded. "Look. I don't even like you right now but I don't try to poison you either now, do I?"

Henry glared at his brothers. "You both are not being objective."

Morgan shook his head, lifting his hands in disbelief.

"Wow, Henry. You know what? Since we're passing judgment around, I think I'll give you a piece of my mind," Chris stood up from the sofa and looked at Henry accusingly, "You've changed ever since being with Annika. Not for the better. Now I don't care who you choose to be with, it's your life, but she has turned you into something you're not. Turning your back on your own best friend?" Chris scoffed, "I don't even know you right now. You've become a royal dick–"

"–Christian Kingsley!" scolded Mel to her son upon hearing the strong word, glaring at him warningly, in which the guilty grown man immediately lifted his hands in surrender and mumbled a 'sorry mum' much like when he was a kid. He sat back down.

Seeing the daggers in his mother's eyes, Henry didn't even have the chance to fight Chris back and chose to look away angrily from his brother.

Morgan, the oldest and probably the wisest of the Kingsley bothers, chose to breach the subject with a different approach. His tone was calm when he uttered his thoughts.

"Henry. Answer this question honestly," Morgan began, "Did you even give Lika a chance to explain or defend herself when you hear from the chef, or did you just explode and send her away?"

The rest of the Kingsleys didn't need the youngest brother to speak his answer. The look on his expression said it all. David Kingsley, their father and the head of the family, adjusted his glasses and rested his elbows on his knees as he folded his hands together.

"Son. A friend whose loyalty is steadfast and tested with time is a treasure. Only one of these three things are possible now," David said in a slow, calm voice that always managed to draw his family's attention to him. The man with the greying hair lifted a finger; a fatherly expression on his aged face as he locked eyes with his youngest son, "Door number one, you could be making a grave mistake by being wrong and violently lose an important friend–the kind you may never find again for the rest of your life. Door number two," he lifted a second finger, "You might be right, that by some weird logic, Lika did poison your fiancee. You could still forgive her, if you want, and keep a really good friend. Or door number three, you don't give her a chance and lose her forever."

Henry was silent as he let his father's words sink in. Somewhere in the background, Jean was shuffling and opened the fridge, looking for a dessert to ease her first trimester cravings. They ignored her, too caught up in Henry's predicament.

Morgan threw his phone to him, which he caught in reflect. "Call her. Ask to talk."

"Forget it."

All five set of eyes turned at the blonde who had a spoon in hanging in her mouth as she tried to pry open the strawberry cheesecake ice cream tub. When she realized all the Kingsleys were staring at her, she paused what she did and took off the spoon from her mouth.

"Tried calling her since last week. Her number is inactive and all my texts aren't even sent," the gorgeous blonde explained with a straight face. She gave Henry a look, as if silently judging him, before walking away and hauled the ice cream tub away with her.

Henry punched her number and called.

"The number you're calling is not active or out of coverage area. Please try again in a few minutes," the sound of the automated female voice rang from Henry's phone speaker.

"When did this whole thing happened exactly?" wondered David.

"Two weeks ago. Give or take," Henry replied quietly.

"You do know it took only 24 hours to wait before filing a missing person report, right? This is way past that, brother mine," pointed out Chris.

Mel shifted on her seat next to her husband uncomfortably. She linked her arms to her husband's who took her hand in his, rubbing it comfortingly. "I have a bad feeling."

Henry sighed. "You're overreacting, mum."

"She's like a daughter. Like Mary-Anne or Jean," sighed Mel, "Could you at least just visit her house, see how she's doing?"

There was a hidden ego lurked behind Henry's stubborn blue eyes.

"Henry Randolph Kingsley," Mel frowned, "I do not raise you to forget those who have done you good. Remember that Lika has been good to you for years."

Like all the Kingsley boys, Henry did not have the balls enough to say no to their mother, especially when she was being right. Without another word, Henry got up from his seat and kissed his mother's cheek before silently leaving.

Morgan followed after him, patting his back roughly. "I'll come with, just to make sure she didn't hit your pretty face when you find out that she was right and you were wrong."

Henry frowned unhappily, annoyed when Morgan guffawed heartily. As the two brothers were about to exit the house, Morgan deviated briefly towards the living room, wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulder from the back as she sat watching the telly, kissing her cheek before promising to be back before dinner.

Jean smiled brightly, cupping Morgan's cheek before pressing their lips for a quick kiss. The two locked eyes, pretty much in love with each other. It had been two years since Jean came back to London for Morgan and Kate. Two years since she was clean.

Remember that Lika has been good to you for years, his mother's words echoed in Henry's mind.

If anything, he would remember that the return of light and happiness in his oldest brother's eyes was also due to Lika, besides everything else that she had done for him and his family. For that, Henry was willing to swallow his pride and make sure not to lose one of the most important people he had in his life.

There was a feeling of distaste and resentment in Henry's chest the moment he saw a handsome man with a tanned skin stood leaning against Lika's door frame. Henry scoffed inwardly–this man bathed in too much cologne wasn't even her type.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" The stranger asked, before he squinted his eyes in recognition when he take a good look at Henry's face. "Hang on–are you Henry Kingsley?"

"No, he's not. Is Eliska home?" interrupted Morgan.

The stranger with American accent tilted his head in genuine confusion. "Who's Eliska?"

"Lika?" tried Henry, "She lives here."

"No she doesn't," countered the man, pointing at himself, "I live here."

Henry stood baffled. "Since when?"

"A week ago."

"What happened to the old tenant?" questioned Morgan.

"I don't know. I literally just moved here from California a week ago. You'll have to ask the housing agent."

As soon as Henry got the number from the foreign man, he dialed the number and turned away to talk to the person at the end of the line. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach when he heard that Lika had all of a sudden decided to move away from the house and asked someone else to takeover for the rent. Aside from that, there was no other information she left behind.

Relaying the information to Morgan, they quickly said their goodbye to the man who now resided in Lika's house.

"Are you sure you're not Henry Kingsley, though?"

Henry ignored him.

Feeling uneasy, Henry and Morgan both drove to the nursing home where her aunt resided. It was a long shot finding her there, but Henry knew a nurse named Johanna who was close to Lika and her aunt.

"I'm sorry, Mr..." the middle aged nurse trailed.

"Jones," lied Henry, hiding his impatience.

"Mr. Jones. I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but Mrs. Mercy Denali passed away in her sleep last month on January 28th," she informed them sympathetically.

Henry froze, feeling like a bucket of ice water had been poured on top of his head.

"Excuse me. What?" Morgan said in disbelief.

"She had a heart attack in the middle of the night. I'm very sorry for your loss."

"What about her niece?"

"Miss Eliska Denali came and arranged her cremation as well as took care of her late aunt's personal effects," Johanna supplied dutifully.

"Did she mention about going anywhere?" asked Henry with urgency in his tone.

The nurse tilted her head in deep thought, before shaking her head in negative. "No, I don't believe she did."

"Thank you, Johanna," Morgan smiled.

The moment the two Kingsley brothers went out of the nursing home, Morgan began cussing like a sailor. Henry swallowed the bile in his throat at his own stupidity.

"Goddamnit, Henry. How the fuck did you not know about this?"

Henry rubbed his forehead, distressed.

"Lika loved her aunt. She's the only family she had. She must be crushed," Morgan commented.

"I know," Henry admitted, the words left a bitter taste on his mouth.

"You know, I never thought that Chris' theory about the missing person is actually going to be a real variable here," ranted Morgan, "Does she have any friends?"

"Yeah," Henry's heart stung, "Us."

"Shit. Fuck."

"...And I pushed her away," Henry recalled his own harsh words, her tears and the pleading in her eyes that night when he confronted her and accused her without even bothering to give her a chance to explain.

Guilt started to eat away at him, along with immense worry for his best friend. Suddenly their fight about Annika became petty–obsolete and unimportant compared to her safety and whereabouts.

Morgan cursed again in a way that would force their mother to wash his mouth with soap if she were present. He rested his hands on the steering wheel of his car. "I'm fucking worried right now, Henry. Imagine a girl who just lost her best friend and her aunt around the same time, suddenly become uncontactable, and her house is now being rented by a stranger and no one knows where she is–does this scenario ring a bell to you? Do you understand my concern?"

Henry buried his head in his hands, unable to think straight through his own worry and anxiety. The image of the petite girl, her sweet smile and melancholy brown eyes flooded his mind's eye. Not knowing what happened to Lika, worried sick for her wellbeing, Henry realized that he had wronged her.

An idea came to him. "I'll ask Thomas to find out," he muttered absently as he began typing at his phone.

"Who's Thomas?"

Henry froze. He had yet to tell his family one detail about the way he and Lika parted last. Unable to cope, Henry immediately clammed up at his brother's simple question.

"Henry..." Morgan gritted his teeth, not liking his little brother's expression at all.

"My new assistant."

There was deafening silence inside the car.

"New assistant?" asked Morgan in a simmering quiet. When Henry didn't answer, Morgan knew.

"No," the military man shook his head in disbelief, "You didn't fire her, did you?"

Henry only clenched his jaw, angry at himself. In his defense, he told Lika that they needed a 'time-out', though then he realized that he never said how long. His brother suddenly lost it. Morgan's voice boomed inside the car's interior.

"Bloody hell, Henry–What the actual fuck?!"

***

Lika's hotel room looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. Various clothing, underwear, socks, chip bags and take out boxes littered the floor and the space of bed where she wasn't sleeping on. The girl had gone full on fuck-it with everything in life for the past seven days. She disappeared from the surface of the Earth, not going even a step out of her door, not bothering to turn on her phone or laptop (as per requested by her aunt), not meeting anyone except the hotel staff who would come to deliver her Chinese takeouts and water. Even that only whenever she felt especially hungry throughout the day.

A once a day meal and occasional emotional snacking was usually sufficient to fuel her astoundingly unproductive days. If she wasn't sleeping, she would be eating, then try to sleep again. When she can't, she would cry herself a river with a bag of chips or a tub of ice cream in her hands while watching an overdramatized Indonesian opera soap in honor of her daily pity party.

Not that she understood a word they said in the show.

By the time Lika realized that she had been cooped up in the room for a week, she dug through her baggage and threw away her stuff carelessly until she found her aunt's letter. Her heart constricted at feeling the slightly rough surface of the envelope. She sat cross-legged on the vinyl floor as she pulled a letter marked number 2 and unsealed it.

~

Challenge No. 2
DEEP ROOTS ARE NOT REACHED BY THE FROST

My dearest, Lika,

How was your stay? Are you itching to leave, or have you found a sense of peace being an ocean away from where you came from? I sincerely wish that the latter is the case.

Now assuming that being miles away from everything and everyone familiar to you brings a sense of freedom, I am inviting you to your next challenge.

Grow roots. Since you like it here, why not stay a bit longer and take your time to absorb the culture? Maybe it's time to get spontaneous and prolong your stay a little bit longer.

Start by planning your finances well at this point. Find a side job to support yourself for at least the next three months, if you have to. Don't let your wineskin run empty. Open your heart and let people in. Make friends. Learn a new language from the locals. Go out. Eat and drink merrily. Immerse yourself in the new world you found yourself in.

By the time you reach a month's mark since opening this letter, the second challenge is completed, and you may open the next letter.

Lowkey hoping you're not opening this letter before you finish the challenge in the first letter,

Your Aunt Mercy.

***

[Author's Note: I enjoy torturing Henry a lot. I hope you do too. I definitely enjoy him being the littlest brother who just effed up real bad and is the receiving end of his brothers' hissy fit. Vote/Kudo/Like and Review if you agree. About Lika–next time around I promise you she'll behave more like a human being. Does her predicament seem familiar? Covid self quarantine, anyone? Lolz! Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story! I love y'all!]