“I ordered Chinese food, what do you want on the menu?” Aaron slightly knocked on Helen's door as he spoke to her without invading her private space. She kept mute, not replying to his question. He tugged on his hair, ready to break the door open if she did not let him in.“Helen, I'm coming in.” He announced again, this time around, the door opened with a click. Helen looked disheveled, and underneath her eyes, had prominent eye bags. “I don't eat Chinese.” She finally responded to his question. That was one of the biggest fallacies she could come up with. Who didn't eat Chinese? “How about chicken and chips with a glass of cold beer?” He made a salutation sound in the air, but her dead-on stare still did not change.“I just need a good night's rest, Aaron. Let's talk tomorrow.” Before he could say anything, she shut the door back with a click. Aaron stood in front of the door, perplexed and disturbed by Helen's behavior. “I'll be right here whenever you need me.” He spoke into the

“Gus, any news?” A call from Gus came in not too long after Helen exited the threshold. Aaron held onto the rail, hoping that Gus found some dirt on Lucas. His gut instinct told him that whatever occurred, behind closed doors, had Lucas's name boldly imprinted on it. But he needed enough proof to vindicate Helen.“Nothing so far, but, I asked around and found out Lucas returns to the quarters later than the others,” Gus reported, a hint of mystery in his voice. Aaron wanted to get to the bottom of this. So far, the media and their voluptuous appetite were yet to get a hold of the deets surrounding the arrival of the FBI and ambulance. But, a single sniff would send their senses on overdrive.“Follow him closely, Gus, I trust your intuition.” Aaron had to give Gus his well-deserved accolades. Gus was going to get to the bottom of the mystery that plagued the Churchill mansion. Aaron returned to the dining area and found Anna enjoying her meal. “I made a plate for two,” she offered A

After three whole days, yet no call from Gus, Helen had become a shadow of herself and even Emily walked on eggshells after the fake falling, and well-battered face. A lot was going on, and the weight of it all had begun to take a toll on Aaron. He heard that wealth came with a series of responsibilities, but this was by far not the dream.“What are you deep in thoughts, son?” Grandpa, Adolph, snapped him back to reality. He stared at the golf field and the golf in his grasp, an excuse that would satiate the old man's curiosity, Aaron thought of, but came up with nothing. Grandpa Adolph was oblivious to what had transpired in the Mansion, and Aaron wanted it to stay that way. “It's nothing, Grandpa, just some problem at home with Anna.” He used Anna as bait to get the old man off his tracks“Hmm.” Grandpa Adolph, gave him a straight-up, eye-locking stare, waiting for a well-described explanation. Saved by his phone that buzzed in his golf shorts, he excused himself from the golf a

Aaron's standpoint at the wailing figure of Julian's mother, prevented him from offering his condolence to her. Call it guilt, but he placed logical reasoning over his conscience. “Mi Hijo!” She cried aloud, her shaky figure, a sign she would soon be admitted to the hospital ward if no one did anything to separate her from the lifeless form of her son.“Bring him back, bring him back!” She helplessly flailed her hands in the air at the mortuary attendant, who stood still, welcoming her painful advances. “Miss Sullivan, I need you to be calm in situations like this, I promise you to get to the bottom of this,” Suarez spoke in a voice that would send the actual culprit into hiding. Aaron, for a minute moment, admired his audacity.Soli Sullivan could not believe in her wildest dreams that her son had become a corpse. His jarred neck and agape mouth showed her how many affiliations he had to withstand. When Suarez approached her for an autopsy, she blindly signed the papers, not acce

The grim look on Grandpa Adolph's face said it all. He was very well acquainted with that name. The smile he wore slowly faded into a deep frown, with worry lines visible on his forehead. “Where did you hear that name?” Grandpa inquired from Aaron, who itched for some answers.“You are yet to answer my question, Grandpa Adolph. Who is Sullivan and what does he have to do with Churchill?” What, best, described this shitty situation, had no place in the American dictionary. Aaron needed to know why someone with a Sullivan surname had to be murdered in his space and such a gruesome and evil manner. The sour taste of guilt overwhelmed him and deep down, he dreaded the truth yet untold.Adolph hoped to the heavens that he would not be placed in between the crossfire the late Churchill senior had engaged himself with. Now, he had to explain an incident that he warned against and foresaw the implications in the future. Aaron waited eagerly, his patience waning out as Adolph took his time to