“You look quite like her, you know,” Grant said, putting his arm around Megan’s shoulders.
“Do you want me to leave you alone with her, Dad? Maybe there’s something you’d like to say to her.”
“No, I’ve already done that, when we found her in that chamber. She’s not there, Megan. That body is only a shell. Your grandfather loved her so much, he just couldn’t let her go. The fact is, we lost her the day she was knocked down. I did my grieving then, sweetie. Nobody should have to go through their mother’s funeral twice. That’s what my father has done to me. I’ll never forgive him for what he has put our family through.”
Megan saw a tear roll down Grant’s cheek before he wiped it away. She still cared for her grandfather and always would but was angry with him for causing her father such pain. As they stood together, arms around each other, Megan didn’t even give a thought as to where Henry might be. Nobody really cared that evening.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The lady sitting third seat from the window held out a box of chocolates to the two men beside her. The younger one shook his head and smiled.
“Would your father like one?” she asked.
“My father?”
The man looked puzzled and glanced at his white haired companion who had his back turned to both of them.
“Oh, of course, my father. No thank you, he is diabetic. He can’t have any.”
“I have some diabetic chocolate in my bag, I can give you that if you like. I’m supposed to eat it myself but it tastes revolting - well, I think it does but your father might like it. Hello, can you hear me?” she raised her voice to get the older man’s attention.
“I’m sorry, he doesn’t speak any English and he never eats chocolate, of any kind. Now, if you don’t mind, we would both like to get some rest,” the younger man’s tone grew stern.
He hoped she would get the message and leave them alone. Everything had gone according to plan over the past twenty-four hours and he didn’t want any last minute surprises. His unfriendly manner worked. The woman huffed at the snub and pulled an ereader out of her bag, pushing her elbows over both arm rests, just for spite.
The old man watched through the window as the land below gave way to the sea. Ignoring the passengers seated beside him, he tried to focus on the quickly disappearing coastline. He felt extremely tired and his neck was beginning to ache. Straightening up, he leaned back into his seat, pressing the recliner button. Not caring what lay ahead or where he might end up, only one thing was important to him. Nothing else mattered. Closing his eyes, he allowed a rare smile to escape, as he repeated one thought like a mantra in his head, over and over. Megan is safe. Megan is safe. Megan is safe.
Finding 02 Finding Megan Page 15