ATLANTA GEORGIA
8th March 2022

DAISY

Shadowside Prep’s hallway was a never-ending pristine behemoth of a thing, packed side to side with lockers in a flawless pattern of blue, yellow, and green, interspersed only by wooden doors that led to classrooms and noticeboards that sported colorful posters announcing opportunities to sign up for school clubs, motivational quotes, cautions against racism, bullying, and homophobia or —and this was often the case— a house party that held the unspoken promise of recreative drugs, out-of-this-world sex, and alcohol.

Daisy wandered the halls, touching everything: the lockers, the walls, the doors. It felt surreal galavanting through the same hallway that her father had walked forty-one years ago. If Daisy closed her eyes tightly and breathed in deeply, she could almost feel her father walking beside her, smiling at her, spurring her on.

Or maybe that was just her imagination running away with her.

Riley Atkins's office was located at the end of a short navy blue carpeted corridor to the left of the entranceway of the school building, behind a thick wooden door with the words “Principal” embossed in gold on a translucent plaque because, as it turned out, Riley Atkins was the Principal of Shadowside Prep.

Yes, you heard right. Riley Atkins—Rowan’s sister and Daisy’s new-found aunt— was the Principal of Shadowside Prep, the same school that Rowan, Jae, and Sam had attended forty-one years ago, the same school where things had gone so irrevocably wrong. Daisy had also been stunned when Vince told her.

Riley’s office was your archetypical principal’s office. A meticulously organized dark wood desk colonized most of the space, a heap of papers to one side of the desk, an open MacBook in the middle, and an eclectic penholder to the left filled with multicolored pencils. A matching dark wood shelf stood like a gargoyle to the side of the office next to a barred window that opened out into the parking lot, letting in the mid-morning sun. It was humdrum principal’s office stuff. Nothing exciting.

What caught Daisy’s attention was the framed photograph hanging on the wall behind the desk. Even Vince, who had done a good job of looking bored to death, moved to see the picture, curiosity getting the better of him. Good thing they were not cats to be killed by curiosity.

Without thinking much, Daisy took the frame, blew off a layer of dust, and inspected the photo, her eyes widening as she recognized the people in the photograph.

There were three teenagers —two girls and one boy— in the photograph standing outside what appeared to be a gazebo of some sort. Daisy’s father —Rowan— was easy to spot, standing in the middle of the two girls in denim coveralls over a white shirt, smiling from ear to ear. His signature dark curls that framed his face and fell into his eyes gave him away. Daisy remembered when she used to play with them when she was younger, braiding and twisting his hair in elaborate styles.

Oh, how she missed her father.

To the right of her father was a black girl in a pink chiffon dress that puffed out at the arms, a red scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. Her hair was so long, so unnaturally straight and so orange that you could tell instantly that she was wearing a wig. Her feet were tucked in a pair of platform heels that were more platform than heel, one of her arms slung carelessly over Rowan’s shoulder, the other on her waist, her lips protruding in a pout that would put most Instagram influencers to shame.

This must be Samantha Carmichael, Daisy thought. She bore a striking resemblance to Mrs. Carmichael. They had the same high cheekbones, the same slightly bushy eyebrows, the same almond eyes, the same love for all things flamboyant. This meant that Daisy had been right all along. Her father had known Samantha Carmichael. From the looks of things, they had been close friends. Best friends, maybe?

Daisy’s eyes strayed to the smiling woman with white-blonde hair wrapped in a bun to the left of her father in a purple turtleneck and black capri pants: The elusive, enigmatic Jasmine —Jae— Walker, the one who, after Samantha Carmichael’s disappearance, had run away. Never to be seen again. Daisy recognized Jae from the movie. Daisy was sure that Jae was the missing piece to this whole Samantha Carmichael puzzle. Jae had all the answers. If she found Jae, she would solve the Samantha Carmichael case.

In the picture, Jae’s hand was in her father’s hair. Daisy assumed she’d been ruffling his hair at the time the photo had been taken. Her father’s arm was around Jae’s waist, his eyes alight with a glow Daisy had never seen when her father had looked at Loise. Her father had loved Jae with all his heart, soul, and mind. It was so obvious. It was true what they said; A picture was worth a thousand words.

The soft clicking of heels drew Daisy’s attention away from the photo to the door. Daisy scampered to put the photo back on the wall and rushed to the couch, crossing her legs at the ankles so that it looked like she had not just been snooping through Riley’s stuff. Vince did the same, folding his arms over his chest and sighing occasionally while checking his watch so that it looked like he’d been waiting for a long time.

Not even a minute after Daisy had sat down, a bespectacled willowy woman entered the office, her face buried in her purse, her frizzy hair about her face in no certain pattern like it had just been the venue of a raccoon fight. She looked like a mad scientist, what with the lab coat draped around her shoulders and the frizzy hair, she could pass for a female Einstein.

Daisy could tell when Riley noticed her because she gasped, her hand moving to her chest, her purse falling to the floor with a muted clink, then her eyes rolled back in her head and she began to faint. It was a good thing Vince caught her before she fell and broke something. Or got a concussion.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Vince asked, his hands still around her waist.

Riley righted herself, smoothing the skirt of her striped shirt dress. “I’m fine. I just got a little shock when I saw Daisy. She just . . .she looks so much like Rowan. She has his steel gray eyes.”

While Riley continued to reiterate all the similarities that Daisy had with Rowan, Daisy was having a mini panic attack.

What do you do when you meet your aunt for the first time? Do you hug her? Or is that considered crossing some sort of familial boundary? Do you wave? Bow? Maybe not bow. This wasn’t a taekwondo match. Salute? No, this wasn’t the army. Curtsy? Not curtsy. This wasn’t the Victorian era. If she was a robot, this would be the time when she would start sparking dangerously and twitching right before she counted down from three and self-destructed.

Fortunately, Riley saved Daisy from self-destructing by pulling her into a hug so maternal that Daisy was in danger of bursting into tears. Loise had never hugged her before. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Daisy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Aunt.” Daisy said, trying the word ‘aunt’ on for size.

As Daisy pulled away from Riley, albeit reluctantly, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text message on her phone from a blocked number that made her gasp.

Don’t talk to Riley.

Immediately, Daisy ran towards the window, scanning the parking lot, expecting to see a masked man fleeing the school, but there was no one. Being a Saturday, there was no one at school. No staff cars. No students milling about in the parking lot. Only Vince’s Honda, a yellow school bus, and Riley’s BMW stood in the parking lot. So, who had sent her this message?

“What’s up, Daisy?” Vince asked, concern etched on his face.

Daisy had opened her mouth to tell Vince about the message when a second message caused her phone to vibrate in her hands.

Come to the parking lot. Don’t tell anyone.

The parking lot? Daisy had just checked the parking lot, and she’d not seen anyone there. This was some creepy shit. It had all the makings of a trap. Daisy could already feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Her heart was racing. Someone was watching them. Though how anyone could be watching them in a closed office like this one was beyond her. Daisy was prepared to ignore the messages when the third message came in.

It’s Jae.

And that was all it took to send Daisy into a frenzy. She needed to get out of this office pronto lest she miss her chance to confront the person who had the answers to all of Daisy’s questions.

“I have to go,” Daisy said, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“Where?” Vince asked, suspicion evident in his voice, his eyes narrowed into slits. “But—”

“Bathroom,” Daisy answered, stopping Vince from finishing his sentence, and left the office, slamming the door behind her and locking it from the outside so that Vince could not follow her.

Daisy ran to the parking lot, her shoulder-length hair slapping her in the face like a whip. At first, when Daisy reached the parking lot, she found it empty. There was no one in sight. It was the kind of desolate parking lot where tumbleweeds tumbled. Daisy was instantly angry, thinking she’d fallen for some kind of prank. She didn’t even know why people found pranks funny. They were fucking annoying.

Then out of nowhere, a hand latched onto hers and Daisy screamed until another hand clamped her mouth shut. Daisy’s first thought was that she was in danger, that she was going to die, that this was the end.

“Are you done screaming?” A rich grandiloquent voice filled Daisy’s ears.

Daisy could do nothing but nod in the affirmative. As soon as she did, the hand left her mouth and she came face to face with Jae. Daisy had expected Jae to be an old frail toothless lady with a penchant for sundresses and knitting. Instead, the Jae she was staring at looked like Sarah Connor from the latest Terminator movie. She wore a black shirt and jeans under a huge grey trenchcoat, her eyes hidden behind a pair of dark shades, her hair trapped in a top hat. Give her a shotgun and Jae would look like a vigilante, stalking the streets, exacting revenge.

If this was Jae’s idea of a disguise, she wasn’t doing a very good job at disguising herself.

“Tell me everything,” Daisy said, suddenly breathless. “About my father. About Samantha Carmichael. What happened to her?”

“There will be time for that,” Jae said, waving her away. “Right now, you need to come with me.”

Daisy wrenched her hand away from Jae’s so brutally that Jae’s nail scratched her skin. “No, you first tell me what happened to Samantha Carmichael.”

“Now is not the time to be petulant! Lotus’ life is in danger.”

At the mention of Lotus’ name, Daisy froze, a memory hitting her like a sucker punch to the gut. She remembered when a few blocks from Ronnie’s house, she’d met an African-American woman with honey-brown braids called Lotus and her adorable son. What was his name again? Something that began with an L. Oh, yes, Landon.

Of course, Jae could be talking about an entirely different Lotus, however, for some reason, Daisy had a sneaking suspicion that they were thinking about the same Lotus.

“Who is Lotus?” Daisy asked, cradling the spot where Jae’s nails had grazed her arm. There was going to be a bruise.

“Lotus is your sister,” Jae said casually, like she was commenting about the weather and not dropping an earth-shattering verbal bomb into Daisy’s life.

“That is ridiculous.” Daisy countered, laughing loudly. “That is impossible.” But it was possible. Daisy suddenly remembered how Lotus’ son had confused her for his mother and how, as she’d watched Lotus and Landon leave hand in hand, she’d noticed that she and Lotus were both tall and willowy with honey-brown hair —that they looked somewhat alike.

“Impossible!” Daisy repeated feebly and then she began to laugh, tears streaking her cheeks so that if you looked at her, you couldn’t tell if she was crying or laughing or both.

Daisy was finally running mad. She was unraveling. She was coming apart at the seams. Her whole life had been one big lie.

Lotus is your sister

Those four words ricocheted through Daisy’s mind like a ping pong ball alternating over a net until her eyes rolled back in her head and the Earth began to tilt, shifting on its axis so that Daisy lost her balance. And because she’d locked Vince and Riley in the office, there was nobody who cared enough to catch her when she fainted.

★★★

Poor Daisy. Her whole life has been a lie.

I know most of you were drawing conclusions about Lotus and Daisy. But for those who weren’t drawing such conclusions, I hope you were adequately shocked.

Part Two ends here. On to Part Three.