True Confessions Charlotte Doyle Novels & Stories

His phone lit up. A text from Sophia. Sophia: [Where are you? I'm scared.] He couldn't stop the thought. Had Charlotte ever been scared? When her mother was being screamed into a heart attack, was she scared? When she found out her mother was dead, was she scared? He remembered something. A long time ago, Charlotte had asked him a question. She'd said, "Connor. If I ever disappeared, would you come looking for me?" He'd laughed. He'd said, "Where would you go?"

Charlotte felt bile rise in her throat. "I need to talk to him," she said suddenly, standing up. Elaine gawked at her. "Are you insane? You’re going to confront him with this?" Charlotte turned to her, eyes blazing. "I don’t have a choice, Elaine. I need to know the truth. If Astor believes he killed my mother, then I need to hear it from him. And if he didn’t, if she was still alive when he buried her, then I need to find out what the hell happened that night."

My throat was raw from screaming, my body sore from the cold floor. When I looked up, Jeffrey was there. He stood outside my cell, his face shadowed by the flickering torchlight. His jaw was tight, his eyes unreadable. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Finally, he broke it. “Did you take it?” My heart cracked all over again. “No.” He studied me, his voice low and rough. “Don’t lie to me, Charlotte. Tell me the truth.” “I am telling the truth!” I shouted, slamming my palms against the bars. “I didn’t take it, Jeffrey! I don’t even know how it ended up there!”

“Nora, you need to hurry up. If you don’t have anything solid by this time tomorrow, we’re letting her go.” My jaw dropped. “What? That’s not possible!” I leaned forward, my voice rising slightly. “Mrs Reynolds confessed! She identified Charlotte… ” Grayson’s palm slammed against the desk, silencing me. “A confession isn’t enough!” he barked. “You know that. We need evidence, Detective. Real, tangible evidence that will hold up in court. Otherwise, Charlotte walks.” I clenched my fists, trying to compose myself. “She’s manipulating everyone around her. You know she’s guilty, Captain. Letting her go…”

"Kid, you can't protect Giselle on your own. There's strength in numbers. If you do a live stream, they wouldn't dare to act rashly." "Give me two more minutes. I'm about to lock down Harry's location!" "It's been two minutes, pal. Have you found the location?" "I study psychology. A sudden apology must be concealing an even bigger plot." "Is Charlotte actually targeting Mr. Fordham? No! That bitch should get lost! Don't destroy Chestelle." "You might offend Charlotte. Maybe she just wants to be a good person." "What a joke! You can tell from Charlotte's appearance that she's not a good person at all."

Derick looked at her, his brow furrowed. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice and she nodded. Charlotte was a master of deception. She performed her role to perfection, so much so that Derrick was completely oblivious to the fact that it was all an act. He had no idea that her injury was fabricated, or that we had planned this entire encounter. Charlotte's performance was so convincing that he had no reason to doubt her sincerity. Even I, who knew the truth, found myself impressed by her ability to deceive him so flawlessly.

“What happened, Sammy? Dylan said you were out of the town but yesterday, I saw the news. I was shocked. I tried to visit you in the hospital, but police didn't let me pass.” I sucked an air and bit my lower lip. “H-He's evil, Rachel.” She stared at me with so much pity and pulled me for a hug. “Was it right? You were saved by Lucian and Jacob Lee? How did you know him?” I heaved a sigh before telling her everything. When I say everything, I didn't leave any information behind. I told her the whole story—from the beginning up to the end. I was crying the whole time. Rachel keeps on telling me to stop, but this is the only way I know to lessen the burden in my heart.

“You’ve been convinced I’m Charlotte, haven’t you? Well, let me make one thing clear. I’m not her. Charlotte has been dead for a long time. You confirmed it yourself, didn’t you? Multiple times, in fact. “And let’s not forget Claude Harlow. You buried them both with your own hands. Or have you started doubting even yourself?” “Whether it’s true or not, we both know the answer,” Suzy countered, her voice sharp. “You’re only trying to confuse me. No matter how well you disguise yourself, you can’t hide the truth. You are Charlotte!”

He prays. “Halsey…” the old man begins. “I don’t have much time but I’ve got to tell you some things.” “I don’t have a lot of clues but you must not trust Daniel Jacobs,” he urges. “Not even a bit. He’s up to something and that’s not gonna end well. Especially for you. If you see this video someday, I hope you’ll be able to prove Nathan’s innocence. He didn’t kill Charlotte. It’s all a trap! And the one person you shouldn’t trust at all is-”

He pounded on the door, shouting through the wood. "Lottie! Lottie, open the door. I know I was wrong. Let me explain. Those things are all fake. It's Shane who set me up. You can't abandon me. I'll die if you do." Charlotte sat on the floor, her back against the door, listening. The voice that once could soften her and make her lose all reason now sounded ridiculous and grating. She didn't say a word in response. The pleas outside slowly turned to curses, then faded into the distance, leaving only a hollow silence behind.