Chapter 100: A Call from Michael

Emerald’s POV

I returned to my old room after leaving the sitting area.

The house had become quieter since the family meeting ended, although I could still hear the occasional footsteps and subdued conversations coming from downstairs.

Staff members moved around as preparations for the funeral began in earnest, and every so often, someone passed through the hallway carrying flowers, documents, or other things that needed arranging.

I closed the door behind me and sat on the edge of the bed. I was finally alone.

I reached for my phone. Several notifications awaited me, but I opened WhatsApp first. I found Michael’s conversation and stared at his name for a moment.

I had already told him that Vera was dead and that my family had brought me to Washington. Now that I knew how Vera had died, I felt that he should know the rest.

I typed the message slowly.

I told him what the police had revealed.

Vera had been strangled. The fingerprints found around her neck belonged to Lawrence. He was now the primary suspect, but the police had not found him.

The CCTV recordings at the vacation home had also been altered, with some footage missing completely and other sections modified.

More importantly, the police had discovered irregularities in recordings from earlier that evening.

I read the message once before sending it. Then I placed my phone beside me.

My attention shifted to Elias’s message. He had asked when I would be returning to Boston.

I stared at it for several seconds. I could have simply told him I didn’t know. That would have been easier, but Elias was no longer just someone I happened to sit beside in class.

Over the past few weeks, I had gradually become comfortable around him. I would not say we were particularly close, but I had started to consider him a friend.

That was probably why I decided to tell him something I normally would have kept to myself.

I typed a short reply.

"My cousin, who recently got married, passed away. I came back to Washington because of the family emergency. After her funeral, I will return to Boston the following week."

I stared at the message before sending it. That was enough.

I had no intention of telling him that Vera had been murdered, that Lawrence was missing, or that the police had found his fingerprints around her neck.

Those were family matters.

And until my mother released the official statement, I did not think it was my place to discuss them with anyone outside the family.

I sent the message and set my phone down. Then I remembered Claire and Laura. I hadn’t told either of them I was in Washington.

That realization made me frown.

They had known me for more than fifteen years. If anyone should have been among the first people I contacted, it should have been them.

I reached for my phone again. But before I could open their conversation, the screen lit up. Michael was calling.

I answered immediately.

"Hello?"

"Emerald." His voice was calm, familiar. "How are you?"

Something inside me relaxed almost immediately. It was strange.

He had already asked me through text whether I was okay. I had already answered him. Yet hearing him ask in person, over the phone, affected me differently.

I leaned back against the headboard. "I honestly don’t know."

There was a brief silence on the other end, then— "How? What do you mean?"

"I mean I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel." I looked toward the window.

"Vera and I were never close. She didn’t particularly like me, and I never pretended that we had a relationship we didn’t have. So I don’t feel the kind of grief I would feel if I lost someone I loved deeply."

I paused, then said, "But she was still my cousin." My voice became quieter. "And she was young. She had only been married for a few weeks."

Michael stayed silent, letting me finish.

"I think that’s what bothers me most. She was alive not long ago. Now we are arranging her funeral."

"You don’t have to force yourself to feel anything specific," he said. "Grief doesn’t follow a fixed pattern."

I swallowed. "I know."

"Just take things one step at a time."

There was something reassuring about the simplicity of his words. I closed my eyes briefly. "Thank you."

"You don’t have to thank me."

I smiled faintly. "You say that, but I still feel like I should."

"Then you are welcome."

A small laugh escaped me before I could stop it. It was brief, but it eased something in me.

I had no idea I could let out a happy sound even with the grief and breaking news still floating in the atmosphere.

"You mentioned that Lawrence Park’s fingerprints had been found around Vera’s neck and that the police had designated him the primary suspect." Michael’s voice changed slightly.

I opened my eyes. "Yes," I confirmed. "And he is still missing, and the police have been unable to locate him."

"That is unusual," he stated.

"I thought so too." I agreed.

Michael was quiet for a moment before asking, "Where was the vacation home and when did they leave for it?"

"The Hamptons, in New York. Vera and Lawrence went there for their honeymoon right after the wedding."

I paused briefly before continuing. "The funeral will be held in three days. Her remains have already been brought back to Washington, and Grandfather wants the funeral kept private."

"That is probably for the best," Michael said.

I understood what he meant. With the circumstances surrounding Vera’s death still under investigation, the last thing the family needed was a crowd of reporters turning the funeral into a public spectacle.

"Yes," I said. "My mother is preparing an official statement for the family, so they can address Vera’s death before the media starts speculating."

"That is sensible," he acknowledged.

I did not know why Michael had asked so specifically about the vacation home. His questions had been precise, almost as though the location mattered to him.

But I decided not to dwell on it. There were already too many things occupying my mind.

"I should probably let you go," I said. "I still need to help with some of the funeral arrangements."