Chapter 6 unfolds in the tense aftermath of a wedding that was supposed to be a joyous occasion but instead became the backdrop for tragedy. The reception hall, once filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses, is now a place of quiet urgency as the catering staff swiftly clears tables, removing all signs of celebration. The once-beautiful centerpieces are handed out to guests as parting gifts, an unspoken gesture meant to usher them away and allow the grieving family their privacy. Conversations among the attendees are hushed but pointed, as murmurs about Aidan’s death ripple through the crowd. Many refer to the incident as a “terrible accident,” though their lowered voices and stolen glances suggest a mixture of speculation and judgment rather than genuine sympathy. As the final guests trickle out, Frank stands in his tuxedo, observing the scene unfold around him, the reality of what has happened weighing heavily on his chest. Despite their polite expressions, he can see the discomfort in their faces, the avoidance of eye contact, as if proximity to grief is something contagious. For a moment, he wonders if they truly feel sorry or if they are merely relieved that the tragedy was not their own to bear.

Amid the uncomfortable departure, a man named Armando Castado approaches Frank, offering a business card and a quiet assurance that he’s available to talk anytime. Though the gesture appears sincere, Frank feels an internal resistance, unsure if he has the energy or willingness to rehash everything with a stranger. His mind is consumed by one pressing concern—Maggie. She has distanced herself, choosing to grieve in solitude, and Frank is powerless to reach her. He remembers how, just hours earlier, he had found himself in the basement where Aidan’s life had ended so suddenly. The image of Aidan lying lifeless on the cold floor is burned into his memory, a scene so surreal that it feels like something out of a nightmare. His instinct had been to call for help, but before he could do anything, Hugo had stopped him, his grip firm and unyielding. “Not yet,” Hugo had warned, insisting that they had to wait until the right moment before alerting anyone. When Errol and Gerry finally arrived, their reaction was not one of grief or even shock—it was one of cold calculation.

Frank had expected chaos, panic, or at least some emotional response, but instead, he was met with careful deliberation. Errol and Gerry spoke in hushed tones, immediately discussing damage control and the best way to protect themselves. Frank had barely processed what had happened before Gerry laid out the plan: they would tell everyone that Aidan had never arrived at the wedding, that he had been found later, dead from an unfortunate accident. It was a lie, a clean cover-up designed to ensure that no one asked too many questions. Frank found himself questioning how they could be so detached, so quick to erase the truth in favor of convenience. His own sense of morality warred with the reality of what he had become entangled in. He wanted no part in their deception, but his options felt limited.

The weight of the situation only grew heavier when Errol revealed something that left Frank reeling—Aidan was never his biological son. With an air of indifference, Errol admitted that years ago, he had taken a DNA test, confirming that there was no blood relation between them. His voice lacked any trace of sadness, any sign that this revelation had ever caused him pain. Instead, he stated matter-of-factly that he had provided for Aidan financially but had never truly seen him as his own. The words struck Frank harder than expected, not because of the revelation itself, but because of the cold way it was delivered. How could a man so easily sever ties with someone who had looked up to him? How could he dismiss Aidan’s life, his struggles, his existence, with such detachment?

As the night wore on, Frank felt an undeniable shift within himself. Maggie no longer had any connection to this family, and in many ways, neither did he. Aidan had tried to separate himself from them long before his tragic end, and perhaps now it was Frank’s turn to do the same. The events of the wedding, the lies, the betrayals, and the indifference had made one thing clear—Osprey Cove was no longer a place where he belonged. His only priority now was Maggie, ensuring that she did not get trapped in the same tangled web that had ensnared Aidan. With that thought, he stepped away from the remnants of the night, ready to put distance between himself and everything that had unraveled within those walls.