Jessica paced the narrow living room of Scott’s apartment, her heels clicking sharply against the polished wooden floor. Her face was filled with anger, her breath shallow and her heart hammering with fury. The moment Scott walked in, tossing his car keys carelessly on the counter, she jumped on him.“You said you’d handle it!” she snapped, her voice trembling with rage. “You promised me the phone would be gone by now.” Her chest heaved up and down as she spoke.Scott didn’t look frightened in the slightest. If anything, he looked annoyed at her outburst. He leaned lazily against the counter, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his expression maddeningly calm. His eyes, dark and calculating, flicked over her like she was nothing more than an amusing distraction.“They searched the damn house, Jessica,” he replied smoothly, his tone low, steady. “Every drawer, every corner. But the phone wasn’t there. What else did you want them to do?”Jessica froze, her eyes widening. “What do you
The drive to Ethan’s house was quiet with neither of them saying a word to each other. Brielle sat in the passenger seat, her hands folded tightly on her lap, her luggage in the trunk. She had resisted at first, but the memory of her torn-apart apartment and the chilling message on her phone had silenced her protests. Deep down, she knew Ethan was right. She was safer with him, even if her pride hated to admit it.When they pulled up to his house, Mrs. Rosa, was standing by the door as though she had been waiting for them. Her sharp eyes immediately landed on Brielle stepping out of the car, and her entire face lit up.“Oh, dear heavens,” Rosa gasped, clasping her hands together as she bustled forward. She pulled Brielle into a warm embrace before she could even speak. “Look at you. Finally, you are back.” Her eyes glistened with something close to joy as she glanced at Ethan. She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough for Brielle not to hear. “You did well this time,” she
Scott’s phone buzzed later that afternoon, a sharp vibration against the small wooden table beside him. He had been sitting with his legs crossed, flipping lazily through the pages of a business magazine he had no interest in. When he saw the number flashing on the screen, his expression sharpened. He lifted the phone slowly, pressing it to his ear.“We checked with one of our men in the station,” a man’s voice reported, rough and hurried. “The phone’s not there, not in evidence, not in storage. It was processed once, but then it was signed out under Officer Joe’s name. He doesn’t have it anymore.”Scott leaned back, his jaw flexing. “Then where is it?” His tone shifted from its usual calmness to a more authoritative one, though a dangerous undercurrent hummed beneath.“We did some asking,” the man continued. “Word is, the officer passed it on. No one knows to whom, but… the timing matches. Hannah’s friend, the doctor, was there the day Joe was working the case. Brielle.”Scott’s lips
The funeral ended quietly, mourners dispersing in small groups, their voices hushed with the weight of sorrow. Brielle lingered a moment longer, her fingers brushing against the folded note Hannah’s mother had given her. Across the cemetery, Jessica was dabbing her eyes with her lace handkerchief, her performance complete. Once the last of the neighbors had gone their way, Jessica straightened her shoulders, adjusted her dress, and slid into her car.The mask of grief she had put on slipped the moment the driver pulled away from the cemetery gates. Her expression hardened and her lips pressed into a thin line.“You should have kept your mouth shut. See what your parents are having to go through because of your wrong choices.” She whispered with a heavy sigh.“You’ll be missed, my dear friend.” She said, taking one last look at Hannah’s picture in her phone before she hit the delete button.By the time they reached the city, the tears were gone and were now replaced with worry.Even th
The cemetery was hushed, the only sound the low murmur of prayers and the faint rustle of wind through the trees. Hannah’s funeral was small, modest, almost painfully so. A few neighbors stood off to the side, some nurses from the hospital clutched tissues, and a few doctors bowed their heads in solemn silence. At the center were Hannah’s parents, faces etched with grief so deep it seemed to hollow out their bodies.Brielle stood at the edge of the gathering, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her chest aching at the sight of them. They had no idea. To them, Hannah was still the sweet daughter who had stumbled into bad company, caught in tragedy far beyond her. They would never know the weight of what she carried before she died. At least, not yet.The priest spoke softly, his words of comfort almost drowned out by the sound of muffled sobbing. The air was heavy with grief, thick enough to suffocate. Brielle blinked against the sting in her eyes, her throat tightening as the c
The words hit her like a physical blow. Brielle shot to her feet, her knees weakening as though the floor had been pulled from beneath her. Ella, who was in the living room sensed that something was wrong and jumped to her feet, heading to the kitchen with worry plastered onto her soft features.“What are you talking about? What do you mean by dead?” Brielle’s voice cracked. “How? How on earth did that happen? She was fine a few hours ago when I visited so what are you talking about?”Brielle’s mind spun with confusion. She wondered how anyone could die in a police station. It made no sense.Officer Joe exhaled. “She was being transferred to a holding cell just after you left. The transport van was attacked on the way. A group opened fire. Hannah was shot in the head and she died instantly. We are ruling this as gang retaliation because that’s the only reasonable explanation.”Brielle’s free hand pressed to her mouth, stifling a sob. Tears blurred her vision, spilling hot down her che