8

I lazily grasped my ringing phone to see Henry's ID displayed on it. The moment I saw his ID, I reverted to a fangirling 12-year-old when they saw their celebrity crush. I answered the phone after I had calmed myself down, and placed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Yunice. How have you been?"

A grin slowly formed on my face as he greeted me through the phone.

"I've been all good," I continued, "Is there a specific reason as to why you called?"

As those words left my tongue, my eyes glanced up to see Renoir tapping the tips of his fingers on the counter as he watched the bacon on the pan as it sizzled. He looked somewhat annoyed.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to my sister's birthday tomorrow? And don't worry about bringing a present. You already helped me find one out of five presents I bought her."

Renoir then started to tap his foot on the floor at a steady pace after he had turned off the stove as I was too preoccupied with Henry.

"Uh, are you sure? It is your sister's birthday. She probably doesn't know me. It'd be pretty awkward."

Henry strongly refused my refusal, and knowing that this conversation of pointless, light-hearted arguing would end up nowhere, I simply just gave in and agreed.

Meanwhile, Renoir had already plated the bacon and had made sunny-side-up eggs with buttered toast on the side as well. I had bid Henry farewell and put my attention to Renoir who was now sulking silently on the same couch he sat on yesterday.

"Thank you, Renoir, for the cooking the rest," I paused for a second, "hold on. If you're a ghost, how are you able to cook?"

"Well... I can control when I can appear and/or have the ability to physically hold an object..."

I let out a slight 'oh' in acknowledgement as I sat down at the table for four all by myself. I hadn't realised it, but I had such a distant and lonely expression as I ate my breakfast. My jaw slowly chewed the buttered toast while stacked pieces of bacon and eggs were stabbed on my fork which I held slightly above the plate. I let my sight become blurry as I continued to stare forward at nothing. Once I swallowed the toast, I stuffed my mouth with the bacon and egg that was on my fork. My mind was formulating what I should, more so what I could do to help Renoir. I wasn't a licenced lawyer yet. If I do something out of line it could damage my chances of becoming a lawyer.

"Are you okay? You're spacing out…"

"Yeah… I'm alright…"

We sat in silence. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It was soothing and comforting. This feeling was familiar, but I don't know why.

***

"Sir," a reporter addressed, "as your children are in their last and graduating year of university – one in engineering and the other in business – which of them will become your successor?"

The reporters in the room were silently awaiting the Chairman's answer, as this would decide the future of his company. Cameras continued the flash and click, almost blinding the man who was the object of their attention.

"Well, as you all may know, my daughter is becoming a well-known fashion designer and my son is flourishing as a chef," he paused, "therefore, as of now, I am yet to decide."

Not even a second after the Chairman's statement, a sea of questions flooded in and chaos once again returned.

"If your children aren't the successors, who will be the next in line?"

The Chairman had an answer for that, but his answer would cause controversies and could possibly trample on someone's peaceful life.

"Interview is over," his secretary stated towards the horde of reporters and cameras before turning back to the Chairman, "Let's go, sir."

***

"Tell me everything you know about your sister's murder."

Renoir and I now sat face-to-face on the carpet of my lounge room with a notebook open on the coffee table and a pencil in my hand. I had already taken a shower, a hurried one at that. I was suspicious and nervous since he is a ghost, therefore… Never mind!

"My sister, Risette Cruise, was murdered in the old bathroom in her school on the 13 September 2019. The forensic scientists investigated the scene of the murder the next day looking for evidence or a lead to the perpetrator. They searched the floor, the window, the doors, the wall, the sink and scanned my sister's body. But there was nothing found. No fingerprints. No traces of footprints. Nothing."

I could feel his rage and sadness. I knew those feelings all too well. The anger I felt towards the jury and the court for believing those assholes. The sadness I felt when I had no one left was still an open wound on my chest. Renoir felt rage rooting from the investigators not putting an effort to find the murderer. His sadness was from never finding the truth. We've both lost someone dear. We both want justice for them and their souls.

"I spoke to her 'friends', her teachers, even the janitor. But still, no one had a clue... I studied on my own..."

"Well... what did you find?"

"The perpetrator isn't one person... there was more than one of them."

Great. So, I have to find multiple people. This is going to go so well.

"How do you know?"

"How can I a murder be committed and have not even a small lead or trace? It's impossible without someone to cover it up."

This case was tough – barely any evidence, no one to testify, I couldn't bring Renoir to the court for any hearings. I was once again clueless. On top of that, I needed to deal with my father's accused murder case. I don't know how to go about this all.