Bad Daughter

[accuscripter]

She stood outside her house, her body trembling, but her mind numb. She had managed to calm herself after the nightmare that was last night, or so she thought. Now, as she placed her hand on the cold iron gate, hoping to feel grounded, it swung open with a rusty creak, the sound slicing through the eerie quiet like an omen.
the gate is not locked??? She thought confusedly.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she stepped inside, her feet moving almost with cold numbness.

The silence around her felt thick, suffocating. As she crossed the threshold of the gate, her eyes fell on the shattered remnants of plant pots spread across the ground. Pieces of ceramic lay scattered, mixed with shards of broken glass that was glistening under the dim light. Everything was in disarray, but it was the thin, dark streak snaking across the floor, a vein of blood, that froze her in place.

Her eyes locked onto the streak. Without thinking, without feeling anything, she began to follow it. Her legs moved, but her mind was blank. The blood trail led her toward the door that opened into the living room. Her breath hitched as she saw it wind up the stairs.

Each step she took was slow, deliberate. She was detached, almost floating, as though her body was on autopilot. First step, second step, third… Each footfall felt heavier than the last, like gravity itself was pulling her down, forcing her to confront something her mind wasn't ready for. The house seemed to darken around her, the walls closing in, suffocating her as she continued to climb up.

The cold air wrapped around her, causing chills to spread down her spine, and sweat broke out across her skin. She reached for the railing, her hand trembling as she grasped it. Her breath was shallow, ragged. Every stair seemed like an ascent into her own death, a revolving descent into something she didn't want to face.

Her stomach twisted, nausea rising in her throat. She gagged, covering her mouth, trying to keep herself together. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision, but still, she kept climbing, her hand gripping the banister so tightly her knuckles turned white. Step after step, each one dragging her closer to the inevitable.

At the top of the stairs, the blood trail veered to the room directly in front of her. The door stood there, closed, as if it were keeping a terrible secret. She reached for the knob, but her hand refused to cooperate. It trembled, fingers weak, slipping over the metal as though she no longer had any strength left in her body.

"No, no, no… please… please," she whispered desperately, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. Her heart heaved with sobs, but she tried again. Her hand, slick with sweat, kept slipping off the knob.

"Please… please..." Her words were choked, a pathetic cry of helplessness. Her tears blurred her vision completely now, making it impossible to see clearly. For a moment, she collapsed against the door, crying, unable to breathe properly.

At last, with a final surge of desperation, the door creaked open.

Vivian didn't even notice. She was too consumed by the blood; by the streak that led her eyes downward, pulling her into the room like a magnet. She followed it with her blurred vision, her heart hammering against her ribs, her body trembling violently. The blood streak ended at something, a large, unmoving object slumped in the corner of the room.

Was it blood? Her mind began to reel. Was it something else? She blinked, trying to focus, but her vision swam in and out. Her breathing quickened as she stumbled forward, her feet barely supporting her weight. What was that? Her mind refused to comprehend what lay ahead of her. Was it a figure? A sack of something?

Her hand fumbled along the wall until she found the light switch. She flicked it on, and the room flooded with harsh, unforgiving light.

"MAAAAAA!!!" The scream tore from her throat as she collapsed to the floor, her body shaking uncontrollably.

She fell to all fours, gasping, sobbing so hard her heart ached. The figure before her; no longer an ambiguous shape but a brutal, horrifying truth; was her mother. Her mother lay on the floor, lifeless, her once-vibrant body now nothing more than a still, silent form drenched in blood. A deep, gaping stab wound marred her chest, the crimson stain spreading beneath her.

"No… no, no, no, no!" Vivian wailed, her voice raw, as if her soul were being ripped apart. She crawled forward, her trembling hands reaching for her mother's limp body. The coldness of her skin made Vivian recoil, but she forced herself to touch her, to hold her. Her fingers hovered over the wound, shaking, afraid to make contact but unable to pull away.

"Mama, please… please, no…" she sobbed, her voice breaking into a million pieces. She clutched her mother's hand, gripping it tightly, hoping, praying; that somehow this nightmare could be undone, that her touch could bring her back. But the body remained cold, unmoving. Vivian could feel the life that had slipped away, and it shattered her.

Her mother's face, pale and peaceful in death, stared up at the ceiling, eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted as though she had whispered something with her last breath.

Vivian crumbled against her, weeping uncontrollably, her heart breaking in her body. The pain was unbearable, too immense to hold inside. She screamed again, a long, anguished cry that echoed off the walls, filling the house with the sound of her despair.

The world spun around her, the weight of her grief crashing down, suffocating her. She felt like she was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness of her own sorrow. Nothing would ever be the same. Her mother was gone, ripped away from her in the most violent, horrific way.

she was hugging the dead tightly.

maybe the part to which she belonged to, wanted to go back to its original space, today more badly than ever… she could only utter

maaa… if I had died inside you it had been better….

she wailed and wailed hard…

 

[accuscripter]

that If you're enjoying my content, but not supporting me on Patreon, you're basically letting me eat ramen noodles for the rest of my life

 

[accuscripter]

Vivian clutched her mother's cold, lifeless body, her trembling hands desperately feeling for a pulse. Deep down, she knew there was nothing

Vivian clutched her mother's cold, lifeless body, her trembling hands desperately feeling for a pulse. Deep down, she knew there was nothing. No warmth, no breath, no heartbeat—but still, she checked. Over and over again, her fingers pressing against her mother's neck, trying to prove herself wrong, trying to deny the grim reality that stared back at her.

"Ma… aren't you cold?" Her voice cracked, trembling with disbelief. "Your hands are so cold…" she whispered, forcing a smile onto her tear-streaked face, as if that fragile smile could somehow undo what had already been done.

Her eyes darted around, frantically searching for the source of all the blood. The room blurred around her, but then she saw it, the knife. It was embedded deep in her mother's chest, the handle sticking out grotesquely like a marker of death, a kitchen knife. The blade was buried deep, the wound already beginning to clot, a dark stain spreading across her mother's clothing.

Vivian's breath hitched. She reached for the knife, hesitating as her shaking fingers hovered just above the murder weapon. She couldn't bring herself to touch it. Her hand trembled violently, and she pulled it back, recoiling as though the knife itself was a living thing, dripping with malice. But then, forcing herself, she reached out again, her mind screaming in protest. Her fingers barely grazed the handle before she broke down completely, collapsing into the pool of her mother's blood.

The cold, sticky sensation of the blood seeping into her clothes made her shudder, her sobs uncontrollable now. She was sobbing with bouts of breathlessness.

She bowed in prostration over her mother's blood… "Can you hear me?" she wailed, her voice breaking as she cried out into the deafening silence. "I don't know… I don't know what to do, God! … Help me!!!"

Her cries echoed through the house, loud and pained. These screams did not go unnoticed. Heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, each step reverberating through the house like the drumbeats of doom. Vivian's heart raced as her father's presence loomed closer, his voice following; filled with venom and rage.

He stormed into the room, and his eyes; bloodshot and wild landed on her crumpled figure, drenched in blood, clutching her mother's body. Without hesitation, he spat curses at her, his voice slashing through the air like a whip.

"What the hell are you doing, you filthy little wretch?!"

Vivian didn't flinch. Her body tensed as he moved closer, but she held her mother tightly, shielding her as though she could somehow still protect her from the monster in front of her.

"Don't you dare come near me," Vivian hissed, her voice low but shaking with barely-contained fury. "You dirty, rotten animal!"

Her father's face twisted into something grotesque, his rage bubbling over. In one swift motion, he lunged at her, his hands grabbing a fistful of her hair. Vivian screamed as he yanked her backwards, dragging her away from her mother's body with brutal force. Her scalp burned as he pulled, her screams blending with the sound of her body scraping against the blood-stained floor.

"No! No! Let me go!" she cried, but he was deaf to her pleas.

He dragged her out of the room, down the stairs, her body bouncing against each step, every painful thud against her back and ribs sending shocks of agony through her. Vivian's back scraped raw, her clothes soaking up the blood from the stairs. Each hit made her body scream in protest, but still, he dragged her, unrelenting.

When they reached the living room, he threw her across the floor like a doll. She hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. Her body ached in every possible way, but she barely had time to register the pain before she heard the rattle of kitchen utensils. Her father had stormed into the kitchen, rummaging around with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

She knew what he was looking for.

Her eyes darted to the fruit basket on the dining table. With trembling hands, she reached into it and pulled out a knife, her heart racing in her chest.

Her father emerged from the kitchen, holding a heavy grinder cutter. The vicious gleam in his eyes made her heart pound. He pointed the cutter at her, his voice a low growl.

"Come here. You deserve to see what I did to your mother," he snarled. "I'm the animal, huh?! You said I'm the animal!"

Vivian's pulse raced, fear coursing through her veins. He lunged at her, but she reacted instinctively, shoving him away with every ounce of strength she had. He stumbled, losing his balance, and the grinder cutter fell from his hand, clattering onto the floor.

Vivian scrambled to her feet, her body screaming in pain as she ran towards the staircase. But her father was quick; too quick. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back with terrifying strength, lifting her off the ground and slamming her back into the center of the living room.

She hit the floor with a sickening thud, the wind knocked out of her. Before she could react, he was on top of her, straddling her chest, his fists raining down on her like sledgehammers.

Vivian tried to shield herself, curling into a ball as his fists pounded against her arms, her face, her ribs. Every blow felt like it would shatter her bones. Her vision blurred, and she tasted blood in her mouth. She couldn't move, she was trapped under his weight, helpless to stop the relentless assault.

And then, with a sickening calm, he reached for the grinder cutter that had fallen to the floor. With a twisted sneer, he slashed at her arms. Vivian let out a blood-curdling scream as the blade tore through her skin, the pain blinding, searing.

"Stop it… please… I'll call the police…" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

"The police?!" He laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. "That bitch said the same thing!"

His hands found her throat, his fingers digging into her skin, choking her. Her world began to fade to black as her vision swam. She gasped for air, but there was none. Her lungs burned, her head pounded. Her mind raced with memories of her life, her miserable, abusive life.

She blinked up at him, her father...a monster...squeezing the life out of her. She hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being.

"I hate those eyes," he snarled, his voice thick with loathing. With one hand, he reached for her face, his fingers digging into her eye socket.

Vivian screamed. It was the the rawest expression of pain and terror. In desperation, she reached under her, feeling for the knife she had grabbed from the fruit basket. Her fingers wrapped around the handle.

Without thinking, without hesitating, she plunged the knife into her father's chest as hard as she could.

He let out a monstrous howl of pain, his body jerking violently as the blade sank into him. A rush of hot blood gushed from the wound, splattering across Vivian's face. She gasped, her chest heaving, as her father's grip on her loosened.

He collapsed to the side, gasping, choking on his own blood. His eyes were wide with shock, his hands clawing at the knife still embedded in his chest. And then, with one final, gurgling breath, he went still.

Dead.

Vivian lay there, gasping for air, her body trembling uncontrollably. Blood.... his blood... covered her face, her hands, her clothes. And then, as the adrenaline drained from her body, everything went dark.

She collapsed into unconsciousness, the world fading into silence.



(I HATE THIS CHAPTER EVEN WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I WAS CRYING, DONT KNOW WHY ... I WAS SCARED OF MY OWN CYCLE OF THOUGHTS IN THIS CHAPTER) As always you can support my work by following me on patreon accuscripter and read ahead.

 

[accuscripter]

Her knees buckled under her as she collapsed in Rupert's arms, her sobs growing weaker until the world around her faded to black.

Vivian's senses were fuzzy, the sharp ache in her head clouding reality. A voice, distant yet familiar, kept calling her name. "Vivian… Vivian… wake up!" Someone was stroking her face gently, trying to rouse her. Through her heavy eyelids, she barely made out the face of her brother, Rupert, hovering over her.

"Come on, Viv… get up!" His voice sounded strangely calm, yet the urgency was undeniable.

She groaned as she stirred, her whole body protesting the movement. He helped her sit up. It all felt like a dream; her bloody hands, the chaos, the nightmare she just escaped. Her back throbbed with pain, yet everything around her looked eerily… clean. There were no bloodstains, no bodies. Not even a speck of dust on the polished floor. Everything was pristine and clear.

Confused, she glanced around. Her mother wasn't there. The horror she'd just witnessed, or had she caused it, seemed to have evaporated into nothingness. Only Rupert remained. He looked at her with an unreadable expression.

"Where is Mother?" she asked cautiously, feeling the unease settle into her bones.

Rupert's eyes darkened. "In the room upstairs," he said quietly, a cold edge in his tone.

"And that man?" Her voice quivered. She could barely bring herself to say Father.

Rupert's lips tightened. "Also in the room."

Vivian tried to stand, though her legs wobbled beneath her. She could hardly feel the ground beneath her feet, as if her body was no longer hers. Her bloody back throbbed painfully, but the overwhelming numbness inside made it all feel unreal. She limped toward the staircase, needing to see them, needing to prove to herself this was all just some cruel dream.

But as she neared the stairs, Rupert's hand grabbed her arm tightly, yanking her back. "Where are you going?"

"To see Mother…" she whispered, her voice fragile but hopeful. "She's okay, right?" A strained smile pulled at her lips, as though clinging to some false hope.

Rupert stared at her, the look on his face growing darker. "She's dead, Vivian," he said flatly, his voice cold and unrelenting.

Vivian froze. His words pierced her like the knife she had tried to pull from her mother's chest. "No… no, no, no, that's not possible. It was just a dream," she muttered, shaking her head as if trying to shake off the nightmare.

But Rupert's next words hit her even harder. "It wasn't a dream," he said quietly, the finality of his words weighing down on her.

Her stomach twisted violently. "Then… Father?" she asked, barely able to get the words out. Her heart raced, her throat dry.

Rupert nodded, his face grim. "He's dead too."

Her chest tightened, and tears welled in her eyes. She stared at her brother, a realization dawning on her that she couldn't accept. "I… I killed him," she whispered hoarsely, tears streaming down her face. The weight of her confession hung in the air like a storm cloud about to break.

Rupert's expression didn't change. "No," he said, his voice softer, almost detached. "He killed himself… after he killed Mother."

Vivian's heart pounded in her chest. Her mind spun in a dizzying whirlpool of guilt and horror. She saw flashes of blood, her father's eyes bulging as she thrust the knife into him, her mother's cold, lifeless face. It was all her fault.
"NO!" she screamed, her voice shaking with hysteria. "No, I did it… I killed him! I stabbed him!" Her body trembled uncontrollably, as if trying to shake free from the unbearable truth. "I killed them all!"

Suddenly, Rupert slapped her hard across the face. The force of the blow sent her stumbling back, gasping for air. Her skin stung, but it was the shock that left her breathless.

"YOU DID NOTHING!"

Rupert's voice roared in her ears. His face was inches from hers, his eyes blazing.

"Do you understand? You weren't even here. None of this is on you."

Vivian's mind refused to process the words. It felt like the floor had been ripped out from beneath her. "But I was here… I was here," she cried weakly, struggling against his grasp, her nails digging into his skin. She felt suffocated, the weight of her guilt crushing her.

"It's your fault! You didn't protect her! You let him kill her!" Her voice cracked, filled with accusation and grief. "You let that monster… you let him take her from us!"

Rupert's face twisted in anguish. "Yes, it's my fault," he murmured, pulling her close, his voice breaking as he held her struggling form. "It's all my fault." His grip tightened as she thrashed against him, hitting him with every ounce of her strength remaining in her injured arms, her body convulsing like a dying fish gasping for air.

Vivian was unraveling, her strength slipping away with each sob. She felt the life drain out of her, her limbs growing weak, her mind collapsing into a pit of despair. Her vision blurred, and her knees buckled under her as she collapsed in Rupert's arms, her sobs growing weaker until the world around her faded to black.

"Vivian… Vivian…!" Her brother's desperate voice echoed in her ears as she fell into the abyss.

---

When her eyes finally opened again, the familiar coldness of the jail cell greeted her. She lay on the hard ground, her body curled into itself, her face damp with tears. "Rupert," she whispered, her voice hoarse, calling out into the void.

But Rupert was dead. He had been dead for days now.

And here she was, locked away, accused of murdering the only person she would never harm.

Her body ached with the same unbearable pain she had felt all those years ago. The weight of loss, the horror of betrayal. It all crashed down on her like a tidal wave, drowning her in the relentless agony of her past.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she curled into herself, her mind spiraling into the darkest corners of her memories. And in the shadows, Detective Sarah Blake stood quietly, watching her.



As always you can support my work by following me on patreon accuscripter and read ahead.

 

[accuscripter]

Sarah had been tailing that car since it left the police station. Her eyes were locked on the license plate of the black sedan ahead of her,

Sarah had been tailing that car since it left the police station. Her eyes were locked on the license plate of the black sedan ahead of her, the car she knew all too well. It was John Blake's car; her husband's. Her breath was shallow, her grip on the steering wheel tight, as the reality of what she was doing sank in deeper with every turn of the wheels.

the investigation into John had been… unsettling. On the surface, everything seemed ordinary—his routine, his work, his whereabouts. Yet something wasn't right. There was a nagging feeling in Sarah's gut that wouldn't go away. Every lead she'd followed on the Vivian case, every thread she pulled, somehow led back to John. But why? He wasn't directly involved in the murders, of that much she was sure. But there was something; or someone tugging him into the web.

A Someone else.

Sarah's heart clenched at the thought. The possibility that her husband was cheating on her had slowly started to creep in, poisoning her mind with doubt. As much as she hated to admit it, the signs were there. Late nights, unexplained absences, calls he would avoid in her presence. Now, she was watching his car glide through the streets, not on some official business, but something far more personal.

But still she felt a strange wave of relief wash over her regardless of this cheating scenario and him spying over her for others. If it was just an affair; just infidelity; at least it wasn't murder. At least he wasn't complicit in Vivian's crimes. Maybe he was just… being used.

The car in front of her took a sharp turn into a narrow alley. Sarah's eyes narrowed. This area looked familiar.

Too familiar.

She followed closely, her pulse quickening when John pulled into the parking lot of a towering apartment building. Her mind raced.

"This is where we picked up Vivian", She thought.

The very place where two days ago, she had captured the notorious Vivian Donovan. What were the odds that John would show up here? Her thoughts spiraled.

Why here of all places?
Why now?

Sarah parked her car a few spaces away, careful to keep out of sight. She watched as John stepped out of his vehicle and disappeared into the building. She followed, moving quickly but silently, her heart pounding in her chest. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him enter the elevator and press the button for the seventh floor.

The seventh floor.

Why here? she thought again, feeling a cold sense of dread wash over her. She waited for the elevator to ascend before following, taking the stairs to stay out of sight. By the time she reached the seventh floor, she could hear the distant sound of John's footsteps echoing down the hallway. Sarah froze when she saw which apartment door he was approaching.

That apartment.

Her blood ran cold. She knew this place. She'd been here before; days ago. What the hell was John doing here?

She ducked into the shadows of the hallway, watching John knock on the door. It swung open, and he stepped inside. She waited. Five minutes passed, then ten. He wasn't coming out. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

Without thinking, Sarah dialed his number. The phone rang once… twice… and then, he picked up.

"Hey, honey," John's voice was light, too light for someone supposedly working a case. "Are you coming home?" Sarah asked, trying to keep her voice steady, casual.

"Ah, no… not yet. I'm on a stakeout," he replied smoothly, but something in his tone sounded rehearsed.

Sarah's eyes flicked toward the door of the apartment. She swallowed, her throat dry. "A stakeout? Really?" She forced a laugh. "It's freezing outside. You must be cold in the car."

"Oh, yeah, it's chilly," John said, his voice slightly tense now. "But, you know, it's the job. Gotta stay out here until something breaks."

Sarah's grip tightened on the phone. "Who's with you? I thought I heard someone in the background."

There was a brief pause. "Oh, no one. Just some drunk stumbling through the alley," John said quickly. "You know how it is. Nothing exciting."

Sarah bit her lip, her mind racing. She glanced back at the apartment door. "Alright… take care, then," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Stay safe."

"Yeah, you too. Love you." John said, his voice casual again, as if nothing was amiss.

Sarah ended the call and stared at her phone, her hands trembling. Her gaze drifted back to the apartment door. She knew something wasn't right. Her instincts screamed at her that there was more going on than just an affair. But what?

Slowly, she opened her phone's contact list. Her thumb hovered over the search bar, her mind racing as she typed one letter; "L".

Her thoughts spiraled as the name flashed on the screen. Laura had been a name mentioned in passing during a recent investigation. A name that seemed to float on the edges of her consciousness. A name John had mentioned once… or had he? Sarah's mind was too clouded with doubt to recall. But now, as she stared at it on her phone, she knew she couldn't ignore it anymore.

Suddenly, a wave of frustration hit her. She shoved the phone back into her pocket and stormed out of the building. The cold night air stung her face as she climbed into her car, her heart still racing, her mind a storm of emotions. The truth was there, waiting for her to uncover it.

She dialed another number.

"Maya, it's me," Sarah said, her voice low and urgent.

"Sarah? How it's going?" Maya's voice sounded concerned.

"Get me everything you can on someone named Laura Smith," Sarah said, her voice hardening with determination. "I need to know who she is and what she's been up to."

The name felt like a ticking time bomb, and Sarah was done waiting for it to explode.

 

[accuscripter]

Max sat nervously in the small, sterile meeting room of the police station. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a cold,

Max sat nervously in the small, sterile meeting room of the police station. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a cold, clinical glow on the metal table in front of him. His mind raced, trying to piece together what could possibly come next. He had been waiting for what felt like hours when the door swung open with force, startling him. Detective Sarah Blake strode into the room, followed closely by Maya, her trusted colleague. Both women exuded authority and determination, and Max instantly sensed that this was not just another routine meeting.

"Mr. Max Stilenski?" Sarah asked, her voice firm but not unkind.

Max rose to his feet, extending his hand. "Yes, that's me," he said, shaking her hand with a firm grip.

"I'm Sarah Blake, lead officer in charge of the Vivian Donovan case," she introduced herself, her sharp gaze never leaving his face. There was a subtle intensity in her demeanor, a quiet power that told Max she was not to be underestimated.

Max straightened up, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on him. "How can I help you, Detective?"

Sarah folded her arms across her chest and studied him for a moment before speaking. "This case… it's complicated," she began, her tone measured. "There are a lot of loose ends, a lot of things that don't add up. And I don't believe in punishing the wrong person. That's why I'm here."

Max raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going. "Okay…?"

Sarah took a step closer, lowering her voice slightly. "I believe Vivian may not be the person we should be focusing on. There's someone else; someone who's pulling the strings. But I need help getting to the bottom of it, and I believe you might be able to assist me."

Max felt a flicker of hope. "What exactly are you asking me to do?"
"Well… I want to gamble with my career as the stake"… would you play with me? She said.

I don't really like to gamble… but for Vivian I can do anything… she is mother of my child… I can not risk my child her mother… before he completed, Maya cut in.

"You are married ???? Vivian is your wife??? Why I didn't found this information??"
Sarah was also astounded with this new information…

"well… no … not yet… married... I want her to be mother of my adopted daughter…" he clarified, with a shy smile across his face that suddenly turned to a serious expression.

"If you are willing to gamble then I am ready to play the game." He responded.

Sarah smiled a little and said, "Well, I want you to work with me to capture the real culprit. I'm willing to share sensitive information with you about the case, under one condition," Sarah said, her voice hardening. "If any of that information leaks, if you compromise this investigation in any way; both you and Vivian will face the consequences. Are you prepared to accept that risk?"

Max's mind raced. This was a chance, possibly the only chance, to help Vivian and clear her name. But the stakes were high. One wrong move, and everything could fall apart. He looked Sarah directly in the eyes, steeling his resolve. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help Vivian."

Sarah nodded, satisfied with his response. "Good. Maya, bring the contract."

Maya, who had been quietly observing the exchange, stepped forward and placed a thick folder on the table. She opened it to reveal a detailed document, outlining the legal parameters of Max's involvement. Sarah gestured to it. "This is a formal cooperation agreement. It ensures that you understand the gravity of your involvement in this case, and that you'll adhere to the confidentiality terms. If you break those terms, you'll be held accountable. Understand?"

Max nodded, feeling the weight of the decision. But he was ready.

Maya slid the contract toward him, pointing to the section where he needed to sign. "You'll need to read through this carefully. It outlines the responsibilities and protections for both parties. By signing, you agree to assist in the investigation without compromising the integrity of the case."

Max quickly skimmed the document. It was thorough, almost overwhelming in its legal jargon, but he understood the basics. If he betrayed Sarah's trust or leaked any information, he and Vivian would be in deeper trouble than they already were. But there was also something in the contract that caught his attention: a clause that stated he would be allowed access to certain key information and investigative findings, giving him a degree of leverage to influence the direction of the investigation.

"Before I sign," Max began, looking up at Sarah, "I need to know something. Will this agreement allow me to access any evidence you've already collected on Vivian's case? I want to make sure I can contribute meaningfully to the investigation."

Sarah exchanged a glance with Maya, and after a brief pause, she nodded. "Yes. You'll be given access to some of the case files, but only what I deem necessary for you to assist effectively. This isn't a free pass into everything. But you'll have enough to work with."

Max nodded, feeling a sense of relief. "I'm in."

He took the pen Maya offered and signed his name on the dotted line, followed by his thumbprint stamp; a formality, but an important one. Sarah and Maya did the same, officially sealing the deal.

After the paperwork was completed, Sarah extended her hand again. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Stilenski. We're going to need all the help we can get."

Max shook her hand, feeling the tension lift just slightly. "I won't let you down," he said with determination.

Maya, ever efficient, gathered up the signed documents and stood, motioning for Max to follow her. "We'll need to discuss the process from here," she said, her tone professional but with a hint of urgency.

As they exited the meeting room, Sarah stayed behind for a moment, watching them go. Her mind was already racing ahead to the next steps. This was a calculated risk, but one she was willing to take. Max's involvement could either break this case wide open, or send everything spiraling out of control.

---

In the hallway, Maya briefed Max on the next steps. "You'll be working closely with us from now on, but we need to establish boundaries," she said firmly. "understand that if you step out of line, this could turn very bad for both you and Vivian."

"I understand," Max said, his voice steady. "But if I'm going to help, I need to know exactly what we're dealing with. I need to understand who we're really after."

Maya nodded. "You'll be brought up to speed. There's someone else involved in this, someone we suspect has been pulling the strings behind the scenes. We're piecing it together, but we're not there yet. That's where you come in."

Max's brow furrowed. "And what about Vivian? What's her current status?"

"She's still in custody," Maya said, her voice dropping slightly. "But if we can prove what we suspect, that she's not the mastermind behind all of this, there's a chance we can turn things around for her."

Max exhaled slowly, his mind racing. "Then let's get to work."

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[accuscripter]

Laura switched careers. Why would someone ace in biochemistry suddenly abandon it for business administration? It's not like biochemistry is

Sarah sat across the dimly lit room, her mind already racing as Maya carefully laid out every piece of information she had found on Laura Smith. The room was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioning, adding a tense edge to the atmosphere. Sarah tapped her fingers lightly on the table, her eyes narrowing as Maya finished her briefing.

"So, Laura Smith…" Sarah murmured, thinking out loud as she connected the dots. "An orphan with a tragic past. Parents died a long time ago, brother murdered. And now she's somehow tied to one of our key victims, Mark, from that sexual harassment case and among all this hassle seen with the personnel of our station who is unexpectedly the husband of the lead case officer… nice…" She let out a sigh, her frustration mounting as she pondered the peculiarities of Laura's background.

Maya nodded, glancing at her notes before continuing. "Yes, and it seems there's no real suspicion on her apart from this connection with Mark and more suspiciously with John. But there's something unsettling about her. She's been working with Vivian for four years, she has admired Vivian for way too long and has been heads over heels for her ever since they met at Laura's alma mater."

"Right," Sarah said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Vivian… of course. A powerful woman in business, known for dominating a field typically run by men. No wonder Laura was drawn to her. But this whole thing doesn't sit well with me, whoever she liked Vivian it is not enough for her to change the course of her profession is it?"

Sarah stood up, pacing slowly around the room. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We need to look deeper. Laura has a double degree, biochemistry and business administration. Biochemistry, Maya. She was an ace researcher in that field. That's no small thing. And now, she's somehow tied to a string of murders with clear signs of chemical manipulation. Doesn't that seem like more than a coincidence?"

Maya raised an eyebrow. "It does. Especially considering that the killer seems to have an intimate knowledge of toxicology. The way these victims were killed, the precise doses of chemicals… it's all too professional."

Sarah stopped pacing and leaned on the table, her voice lowering as if she were piecing together the mystery in real time. "Maya, check every detail on her connection to these victims. We know about Mark, but what about the others? Was Laura connected to them in any way? Did she work with them? Did they cross paths? I don't care how small or insignificant it seems, nothing is too small to ignore right now."

Maya scribbled a note and nodded. "I'll look into it, see if there's any overlap."

"And one more thing," Sarah said, her tone growing sharper. "I need to know everything about her brother. Who was he? Why was he murdered? Was his death random, or was it tied to something deeper? And most importantly, who was the killer? I want a full report on that case. Something doesn't feel right about Laura's history, she's lost too many people close to her. There's a pattern here, Maya, and I want to know if that pattern leads us to the killer."

Maya hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice cautious. "Do you think Laura could be… involved? I mean, she doesn't exactly have a criminal record. The only thing we have is her involvement in the sexual harassment case with Mark and your hus… well i mean to say It's thin."

Sarah's gaze darkened as she connected another dot, she was not listening to Maya. "And one more thing… Laura switched careers. Why would someone ace in biochemistry suddenly abandon it for business administration? It's not like biochemistry is a dead-end field. She was a rising star, a researcher with promise. And then she suddenly veers into the business world?"

Maya nodded, picking up on Sarah's line of thinking. "That is odd. Maybe she was tired of the lab work, or maybe she saw more opportunity in business owing to the fact that she was greatly inspired by Vivian?"

"Maybe," Sarah said, unconvinced. "Or maybe she had a reason to leave. Or someone gave her a reason. We can't ignore the possibility that something, perhaps someone, pushed her out of biochemistry. But here's the kicker: If she still has ties to her biochemistry roots, that makes her a prime suspect.

This entire serial killing case revolves around chemical abuse, Maya. Someone who knows their way around lethal chemicals is orchestrating these murders, and now we have a person with expertise in that field right under our noses. And also don't forget that it was Laura who helped us get Vivian. It was her testomoney against Vivian that was the nail in the coffin in her arrest. Now, one thing is confirm she is not really Vivian's fan… so recheck everything "

Maya took in a deep breath, the implications weighing heavily in the room. "I'll dig more into her past," she said quietly.

Sarah nodded sharply. "Good. Don't overlook any detail.

Maya scribbled furiously, her pen flying across the page as Sarah's mind raced ahead. "Also," Sarah added, her voice low, "check into her research during her time in biochemistry. What exactly was she studying? What projects was she involved in? If her expertise lies in certain chemicals, we could be looking at our link to the murder weapon. And we can't ignore the possibility that Laura may have been experimenting with these substances long before the killings began."

Maya looked up, her face serious. " she might have been planning this for a long time"

Maya closed her notebook and stood up, As she turned to leave, Sarah stopped her with one last thought.

"Maya, also look into her personal life. Not just her professional connections. Find out if she's been seeing anyone and with John Blake, any other relationships, any old flames that might have a reason to come back now. We're dealing with someone smart, yes, but also someone with a lot of pain in her past. People like Laura don't just forget their losses, they find ways to fill those voids. And that might be the key to understanding why she's doing this if she is behind this all."

And now, as the pieces of the puzzle began to take shape, Laura Smith was starting to look like a much bigger piece than Sarah had originally thought.


you can choose to read ahead at patreon accuscripter and support me with likes and comment

 

[accuscripter]

Max watched Vivian in silence as she exited the police station, her expression vacant, her eyes dull with exhaustion. He held her things.

Max watched Vivian in silence as she exited the police station, her expression vacant, her eyes dull with exhaustion. He held her things awkwardly in his hands as he walked beside her. Without saying a word, he opened the front passenger seat door of his car, his fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe to make sure her head didn't hit it as she climbed in. A protective reflex that came so effortlessly.

Vivian sat down in the car, her movements slow, and drowsy. Her silence filled the air, a heavy tension hanging between them as Max walked around the car, his steps unusually slow. He slid into the driver's seat, glancing sideways at her, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she stared out the window, her face etched with a weariness that went beyond physical fatigue. It was the look of someone who had carried the weight of the world for far too long.

Max gripped the steering wheel, trying to think of something to say, but the words died in his throat. The car started with a low hum, the engine almost too soft against the quiet between them. He glanced down at his lap, where Vivian's belongings were still resting, her purse, papers, a few small items she'd been carrying when she was arrested. He wanted to hand them to her, but she didn't seem to notice them. She just kept staring out of the window, her eyes unfocused, lost in a world he couldn't reach.

Then, suddenly, her voice broke through the silence, so faint that he barely caught it.

"Give me..."

Max blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Huh? Did you say something?" His voice was gentle but puzzled, unsure if she had spoken at all or if he had imagined it.

Vivian turned to look at him, her cracked lips moving with difficulty. "Give me... the things," she repeated, her voice fragile, as if every word hurt.

"Oh, right, yes, of course," Max stammered, flustered as he quickly handed over the pile of items. He tried to keep his movements steady, but his hands fumbled, and her purse spilled open in her lap, scattering its contents.

Vivian barely noticed. She began picking up the items one by one, her fingers moving with a shaky grace as she placed them back into the purse. Then her hand froze. Among the items was a small, folded piece of paper, an old note. Max glanced at it, but before he could say anything, Vivian's fingers trembled as she unfolded it.

Max watched her expression change, the color draining from her face as her eyes scanned the familiar handwriting. He could see her jaw tighten, her breath hitching, her fingers trembling more violently now as she read the words on the page.

The note was from her brother.

I love you, sister. You are my only one. Protect yourself. A woman has been approaching me under your name continuously. She doesn't know I'm your brother, but she knows I'm connected to you. I'm sorry for everything. I really am. But you know I'm bad with words. Goodbye.

Your brother

Click to shrink...

Vivian's eyes welled with tears, and suddenly, they spilled over, her body convulsing with sobs as the weight of her brother's words crushed her. She hadn't expected this, this sudden reminder of the one person who had been taken from her, the one person she had, her only family. She hugged the note to her chest as if she was trying to wake it with her warmth and her voice, she remembered every bit of their last encounter, how Vivian kicked him out of the car and how he was looking at her with a smile, the pain was too much to bear.

Max's heart clenched at the sight of her breaking down. His instincts kicked in, and without thinking, he pulled the car over to the side of the road. The tires crunched against the gravel, and he parked, but he didn't know what to do next. Should he reach out? Should he comfort her? He felt helpless, watching her sob uncontrollably, and the last thing he wanted was to make things worse.

So instead, he quietly stepped out of the car. He gave her space, standing a few feet away as she cried her heart out. His back was turned to her, and he wiped his own eyes quickly, the sight of her grief pulling at something deep inside him. Max was known for his playful, easygoing nature, but moments like these always reminded him how deeply he cared for the people he loved. And Vivian, despite everything, was one of those people.

The minutes stretched on, each sob tearing at his heart. Max took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. It felt like forever before the car went quiet again. He glanced over his shoulder to check on her, unsure if she was okay, only to find her slumped against the seat, her head resting on the window.

She had passed out, her body completely drained from the emotional toll.

"Vivian?" Max's voice was soft, full of concern as he leaned into the car. When she didn't respond, panic surged through him. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly, but there was no reaction. His heart raced as he rushed back into the driver's seat and started the engine again, his hands trembling as he turned the car around.

He drove to the hospital as fast as he could without causing alarm. The streets blurred around him, but his focus was only on her.

When they arrived at the hospital, he carried her inside, his voice cracking as he explained the situation to the nurses. They quickly hooked her up to IV drips, checking her vitals, making sure she was stable. Max hovered nearby, his heart pounding, watching as they worked on her.

Hours passed before Vivian finally stirred awake. She blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the bright lights of the hospital room. The first thing she saw was Max, sitting beside her bed, a look of pure relief flooding his face as he realized she was awake.

"Vivian," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You scared me half to death."

Vivian looked at him, her eyes still red from crying, but a faint curve touched her lips as she saw the worry etched in his features. "m' sorry," she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Max shook his head, reaching out to take her hand gently. "No, don't apologize. Just... rest, okay?"

Her eyelids heavy again, but before she drifted off, she squeezed the sheets as if trying to stay awake, but it was in vain she was sleeping again. Max sat by her side. Giving off a sigh of relief and then buried his head in his hands.

 

[accuscripter]

As Maya handed Max the file, she kept her gaze steely and unwavering. "This is about our next lead," she said, barely pausing before handing

As Maya handed Max the file, she kept her gaze steely and unwavering. "This is about our next lead," she said, barely pausing before handing him a slim dossier stamped with the name Laura Smith in thick, bold lettering.

Max flipped open the file, eyes scanning the first few lines. "Who is this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Just as his fingers started to flip the page, Maya's hand clamped over the folder, pushing it closed.

"That's classified. I assume you've gathered enough about where the case is headed, haven't you?" Her tone was clipped, with an edge that said she was done entertaining questions.

Max tilted his head, holding her gaze with a faint smirk. "It seems pretty important if you've dedicated an entire file to it," he noted, his voice teasing yet insistent. "Must be a lot of pictures, too." His eyes tried to sneak another peek.

"Mr. Stillenski," she snapped, voice icy, "I trust you'll keep your curiosity in check. Some things are not your business." With that, she marched out, clutching the file close as though it held her most precious secrets.

Unfazed, Max shrugged and followed her out of the room, reaching for his phone. But as he passed the hallway, he heard her voice behind a door, talking in a hushed tone. "Yes, ma'am. We're still looking into her… No, no new leads yet. Of course. Understood. Goodbye."

The tone was serious, secretive. A part of Max wanted to dismiss it, but something in Maya's tone, a hint of urgency perhaps, made him feel that Laura Smith might be the loose thread he was looking for.

---

Later that day, Max parked his car outside Vivian's apartment. He got out, straightening his lapels, his suit sharp as ever, his gelled black hair with silver streaks catching the sunlight, making him look both charming and menacing. He pressed the buzzer, waited. The door creaked open, revealing Vivian, her eyes dark and unfocused. She didn't say a word—just turned and walked back inside, leaving him standing there, hand halfway raised in greeting. He dropped it with an awkward smile.

"Hey, Vivian," he greeted warmly as he stepped in, hanging his coat and bag on the hook by the door. "How're you holding up?"

Vivian, frail but composed, curled up on the couch, lighting a cigarette. Her loose, dark hair fell over her shoulders, and a thick, oversized sweater clung to her as if it was the only thing shielding her from the world.

Without a word, Max reached over, plucking the cigarette from her lips and, with a flourish, slipped a coffee-flavored lollipop between her lips instead. Vivian's eyes widened, taken aback by the swift exchange.

"What… What's this?" she mumbled, struggling around the lollipop in her mouth. She pulled it out.

Max grinned, casually rolling up his sleeves, he leaned close to her.
wha…wh…at are you doing?
he kept getting closer after all holding her hand that held the lollipop and other one steady on her shoulder to keep her still

Max… don't you……

"Just a healthier choice. Take it or leave it." Saying this he firmly nudged the lollipop into her mouth before she could finish. Vivian sputtered, trying to protest, but he nudged it further, before stepping back. He began gathering the overflowing ashtray and dumping its contents in the trash, then cracked open a window to let in fresh air, filling the stale room with a soft breeze.

Then he sank into a chair across from her, pouring himself a glass of water. "Hope you don't mind, Ms. Donovan," he teased, taking a sip without waiting for an answer.

Vivian watched him with a mixture of irritation and intrigue as he settled in, acting as if he owned the place. After a moment of silence, he finally said, "Here's the deal. I'm going to help find the killer. You don't have to do this alone."

Vivian frowned, trying to speak around the lollipop, her voice quiet but defiant. "I can handle this. I don't need anyone's help."

Max leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers with uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Can you? Look at yourself, Vivian. You're smoking yourself into an early grave. Instead of finding the killer, you're destroying yourself, one cigarette at a time."

He paused, his voice softening. "You owe it to your brother to pull yourself together, to get justice. Not to let it consume you."

Vivian shrank into her sweater, pulling the fabric close to her face to hide her expression. Her eyes flickered, a glimpse of vulnerability breaking through her hardened exterior.

After a long silence, Max asked, "Do you know anyone named Laura Smith?"

Vivian's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as she shot to her feet, her expression hardened in a heartbeat. "Why?"

Max tilted his head, studying her reaction. "Do you know her?"

"I asked first," she fired back, yanking the lollipop from her mouth.

He leaned back, watching her with an unreadable expression. "She's the one who lured you to her house to get you trapped. The one who actually got you arrested."

Vivian's eyes blazed with fury, and she clenched her fists.

"Lies. Laura wouldn't do that to me!"

"Calm down, Vivian," he said softly, but his voice held a firmness that wouldn't be swayed. "This is the information I have. And from where I'm standing, she's a suspect."

"Stop!" Vivian's voice rose, trembling with emotion. "What do you want from me, Max? Why are you even here?" Her voice broke, her anger collapsing into something desperate and raw.

Max moved toward her, his hands steady on her shoulders. "Vivian, right now, you can't trust anyone. Not even yourself. You're too close to this. And you need someone who sees things clearly."

She jerked away from him, stepping back with tears brimming in her eyes. "Then you're the first person I refuse to trust," she spat.

"Leave!

Now!"

Max hesitated, watching her closely, but then he exhaled and turned, grabbing his coat off the hook. As he did, he pulled a small card from his pocket and placed it gently on the table.

"If you change your mind… Call me. You know this is bigger than you or me. You know you can't run from this forever. And maybe, this time, you'll decide to fight instead of running or hiding."

He turned to go, but her voice broke the silence just as he reached the door.

"What do you mean, 'run'?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

Max turned slightly, his eyes shadowed.

"You know exactly what I mean."

His voice was low, unyielding.

"You've run every time things got hard. Now, maybe it's time to stop."

Her face contorted with anger and confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about! I never ran."

"Yes, you did," he said quietly, his back still turned to her. He pulled his coat on, pausing before finally muttering,

"Every time."

And with that, he walked out, leaving her standing there, alone and adrift, haunted by a turmoil of memories and doubts.

 

[accuscripter]

Max sipped on his blood-stained hibiscus tea, a strange comfort in the bitter tang that mirrored his current mood. His piercing grey eyes, f

Max sipped on his blood-stained hibiscus tea, a strange comfort in the bitter tang that mirrored his current mood. His piercing grey eyes, flecked with hints of stormy blue, were glued to the phone resting on the mahogany table beside him. The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a vintage lamp casting long shadows that seemed to flicker with his restless thoughts.

It had been two days since he left Vivian amidst her emotional turmoil.

Two days.

He had expected a call, a text—something. But no. There was nothing. The silence gnawed at him, amplifying his own words from that fateful conversation.

"Always. Every time."

Who knew the statement meant to unsettle her would leave him tangled in his own web of mischief?

He leaned back, his lips curling into a sardonic smile. "What's the matter with me? So what if I wanted to make her uncomfortable? It's the truth. She always runs. Always." His words grew louder, a mutter turning into a half-angry exclamation.

A soft, sleepy murmur broke through his thoughts.

"Ae... sorry, sorry, love," he whispered, his tone instantly tender.

The tiny figure on his lap stirred, her golden curls catching the dim light. His daughter rubbed her eyes with balled fists, her angelic face scrunching up.

"Mama?" she murmured, her sleepy voice tugging at his heartstrings.

Max froze, his breath hitching for a moment before she began to cry. Her little sobs turned into louder wails, piercing through the quiet room.

"Shh, shh, no, no, my love, I'm sorry. Daddy didn't mean to wake you." He stood, cradling her small form as he began to pace, his strong arms swaying her gently. "There, there, little one. It's okay, shhh."

Her cries softened, the rhythmic movement lulling her back to sleep. Max's shoulders sagged in relief as he laid her back in her bed, his fingers gently brushing her hair back from her tear-streaked cheeks. He crouched there for a moment, watching her serene face as she drifted into slumber once more.

"Like mother, like daughter," he muttered to himself, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. Then, shaking his head, he stood, his expression hardening. "What are you waiting for, Vivian? What else do you want from me?"

We need you more than you need us … or maybe we both need each other…
but I won't force you never… !!!
I will never call you again …

and then thinking something he murmured… atleast not the 1st to contact you… humph!

---

Detective Sarah Blake's phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. The tension in her chest was unbearable, a mixture of fury and resolve tightening around her ribs like a vice.

"Where is he?" she snapped at one of the officers.

"No sign of him yet, ma'am. But his car's still in the lot."

It was the same lot where Sarah got her 1st suspect Vivian Donovan and now it was Sarah blake. What was eerie was that it was the lot in the building where Laura smith lived, making her a strong connection.

She clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. Her husband, John Blake, had been avoiding her calls for days. Now, her suspicions were no longer whispers in the dark; they were roaring truths demanding action.

After a while. John blake came out. It seemed he didn't know what was about to happen to him. He came rotating his car keys in his fingers, his tailored suit crisp and his tie perfectly knotted—a man who appeared untouched by guilt. He walked with calm confidence toward his car, his polished shoes echoing against the cold concrete as if he had no malice whatsoever and was not guilty of his wrongdoers. All of this made Sarah boil and without hesitation, she gave the order. "Surround him. Now."

The team mobilized with precision, their unmarked cars creeping into position. The parking lot, dimly lit by a single flickering lamp, became a stage for confrontation.

Before he could reach the driver's seat, the cars surged forward, engines growling as they boxed him in. John froze, his hand gripping his briefcase tightly.

Sarah stepped out of her car, her dark trench coat billowing behind her. The cold night air made her breath visible, but her eyes burned with cold fury.

"John Blake," she called, her voice cutting through the silence. "You are under arrest as a suspect in the recent serial killings."

John turned slowly, his face calm but his eyes betraying a flicker of something; sadness, maybe? Or was it defiance?

"Sarah," he said, taking a step forward.

Sarah mirrored his movement, one hand gripping the cuffs in her coat pocket, the other resting on the pistol at her hip. She advanced with deliberate, measured steps until they stood mere feet apart.

"You have the right to remain silent," she began, her voice steady. "You have the right to an attorney. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

Her hands moved with practiced precision that she needed today more than ever today to cuff her own husband, snapping the cuffs onto his wrists. His gaze never left hers.

When she finished, he spoke, his voice low and calm. "But you won't believe me, will you? No matter what I say."

For a moment, Sarah's composure faltered. She looked at him. There was no anger in his tone, no defensiveness. Just resignation.

"Get him in the car," she ordered, her voice colder than the night air.

As they led him away, John glanced back at her.

Her jaw tightened, but she didn't reply. She watched as the car doors slammed shut, her husband now a prisoner of her investigation.

Turning away, she clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. If he was guilty, she would make sure he paid. But if he wasn't...

No. She couldn't think like that. Not now. When everything was going on track.

 

[accuscripter]

Sarah's fingers trembled as she reached for the car door, her knuckles white against the metallic surface. Watching John being pushed into the police vehicle had been harder than she anticipated. The man she had once loved, trusted, and built a life with now sat behind bars, and she was the one who put him there.

Stumbling into her car, she leaned back, taking a deep breath that seemed to shatter into a million pieces inside her chest. She fought the tears that threatened to spill, her vision blurring momentarily.

"Sarah," a gentle voice said, breaking the silence.

Maya's hand rested on her shoulder, grounding her. "I know this is hard, but it was necessary. You had no choice."

Sarah's jaw tightened. She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to nod. "Yeah," she said hoarsely, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I'm fine. Let's go."

But she wasn't fine. The invisible weight in her chest pressed harder as she started the engine.

---
The road back to the station was silent, the hum of the car engine filling the void between them. Sarah's fingers tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel, her mind racing with questions.

"Maya," she began, her tone clipped. "What's the status on Laura Smith?"

Maya hesitated, glancing at Sarah before replying. "Nothing yet, ma'am. We've been focused on gathering evidence against John."

Sarah's grip on the wheel tightened, her knuckles turning pale. "We don't have time to waste, Maya. I need information on Laura; now. If she's connected to this case, we need to know."

"Yes, ma'am," Maya said, her voice firm but tinged with unease.

The station loomed ahead, its harsh fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the parking lot. Sarah exhaled sharply, steeling herself.

---
"Where is he?" Sarah asked as she entered the station, her voice commanding despite the tremor she tried to suppress.

"In the detention room," an officer replied.

Sarah nodded and walked briskly toward the room, pausing outside the door. She shrugged off her jacket, draping it over a chair, and rolled her neck until it cracked. She flexed her fingers, and With a deep breath, she pushed open the door.

John sat slouched in the chair, his once confident posture replaced by a defeated slump. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now seemed dull, like a man resigned to his fate.

Sarah sat across from him, her face a mask of calm. The folder in her hands was heavy, its contents a weapon she was prepared to wield.

"John Blake," she began, her voice measured. "What is your relationship with Laura Smith?"

John didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on her, unblinking, as if trying to gauge how much she knew.

"Mr. Blake," Sarah said, her tone sharpening, "I recommend you cooperate. It will be in your best interest."

Still, silence.

"Let me rephrase," Sarah said, her eyes narrowing. "How long have you known her?"

John's lips pressed into a thin line before he finally spoke. "A year."

"And how did you meet her?"

"Through a case," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What case?"

"There was an accident at her university," John replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"What kind of accident?" Sarah pressed.

"A chemical accident."

"And Laura Smith's connection to it?"

"She was accused of being the culprit," John said.

"Was she guilty?"

"No." His voice was firmer now. "She wasn't. It was someone else."

"Describe the accident," Sarah demanded, leaning forward.

"I don't remember," John said, his tone dismissive.

Sarah's eyes narrowed as she flipped through the folder. "Mr. Blake, you are accused of leaking confidential police information to an outside source; most likely Laura Smith or someone associated with her. Information that has likely contributed to these murders."

John shot up, the chain securing him to the table clinking loudly. "I did what?" he shouted, his face a mixture of shock and anger.

"You leaked " Sarah began, her voice cold and accusatory.

"I didn't!" John interrupted, his voice desperate. "Sarah, you know me! I wouldn't do this!"

"Do I?" Sarah snapped, her composure cracking. "Because the evidence says otherwise. You were caught on CCTV rummaging through my desk."

"I wasn't rummaging!" John said, his voice breaking. "Yes, I opened your drawer, but I didn't touch any files. I wasn't prying!"

"Then prove it!" Sarah retorted, slamming her palms on the table. "If you didn't leak that information, then who did? Or are you trying to tell me you're not just a leak but the murderer?"

John's face paled, and his voice caught in his throat. "Sarah," he whispered, his tone getting aggressive yet pleading.

"I'M YOUR HUSBAND!"

"YES!! YOU WERE MY HUSBAND.
And you CHEATED!"
Sarah voice changed tone from aggressive to helpless… and then the Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. John sank back into his seat, his head in his hands. Sarah stood, her arms braced against the table, her chest heaving with restrained emotion.

"If you're innocent, bring me proof," she said, her voice quieter but no less sharp. "And tell me when that chemical accident happened."

But John said nothing. He lowered his head, his silence louder than any words he could have spoken.

Sarah stared at him for a moment longer before picking up her folder and leaving the room.

As the door closed behind her, Sarah leaned against the wall, her breath coming in short gasps. The weight on her heart felt unbearable, a mix of anger, betrayal, and lingering affection twisting like a knife in her chest.

Every woman, she thought bitterly, is weak before her religion and her passion.

"Ma'am?" Maya's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.

Sarah straightened, wiping her face quickly. "I'm fine," she said, her tone clipped. "Get me all the case files John has handled in the past year. Make sure not a file is missing."

Why we need the files? Maya questioned crossly… to which Sarah glared at her, and said
Am I supposed to answer that?!
Maya said nothing and returned to get the files, concern flickering in her eyes, but she said nothing.

 

[accuscripter]

Maya arrived at Sarah's desk with a stack of files, her arms trembling slightly under their weight.

"These are all the cases John has handled in the past year," she said, her voice tinged with worry. Sarah looked at the pile and sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping slightly. The sheer number of files was a daunting sight.

"Tick, tock, Maya," Sarah muttered under her breath. "We don't have time to let this case grow cold, it not a simple case, it is a serial killing case."

Before she could dive into the files, a familiar yet unwelcome voice broke through the office's tense atmosphere.

"Excuse me… Ms. Sarah Blake?"

Sarah glanced up sharply, her face hardening instantly as she locked eyes with Laura Smith standing at the doorway, shifting awkwardly. The air grew heavier as Laura stepped inside.

"Why are you here?" Sarah snapped, her voice icy. She didn't wait for Laura to respond. "If you're here to see John, forget it. You're not meeting him."

Laura ignored her tone and walked further in, her eyes darting around. "I was told I'm… summoned here. To the station."

for what? Sarah asked sharply
shouldn't you know it better than me who called me here? Laura responded

Sarah's head turned around to her team. "Who called her?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the room like a blade.

Silence.

"No one?" Sarah's tone was a warning.
Maya… where is Maya??? Sarah asked
Rob a junior investigator responded to her, "maam she went to take more files…"

She returned her gaze to Laura, her eyes narrowing. "Well, Ms. Smith, it must've been a mistake. You should—"

Then suddenly sarah while thinking something said , "you are already here. Why not talk now?"

Sarah sighed deeply, her irritation evident. "Fine. Rob, set her up in the interrogation room. I'll deal with her."

Sarah entered the room, her eyes scanning Laura coldly. She placed a recorder on the table and flipped through her notes without looking at Laura.

"Ms. Laura Smith," Sarah began, her voice low and measured, "is that your real name?"

Laura blinked, her confusion evident. "Of course, it is."

"A year ago, you were involved in a chemical accident at your university. Correct?"

Laura's expression hardened. "Yes."

"Aren't you a business graduate?" Sarah asked, her tone almost mocking.

"I am," Laura answered tersely.

"Then what does a chemical accident have to do with you?"

"I'm also a biochemist," Laura said, sitting straighter. "I have a dual degree."

"And you were accused of causing the accident?"

Laura's jaw clenched. "Yes, but I wasn't the culprit."

Sarah leaned forward slightly, her piercing eyes locked onto Laura's. I didn't dsy you were the culprit!

Laura seemed irritated but it was just beginning.


"Then who was the culprit?"

Laura's lips parted as if to answer, but she stopped. Her voice, when it came, was calm but steely. "That case is closed."

Sarah let out a humorless laugh. "That's not your call to make."

Laura's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing. "Do you have a warrant for this questioning?"

Sarah's tone dropped, deadly and cold, and with a smirk she said "I don't need one...I have the authority to question anyone without any warrant and for you? i can even detain you and no one will question me ... "

At this point Sarah seemed pretty arrogant as she said this without a speck of humanity ... right now she didn't want to solve the case but instead take down the women who took away her love her husband ...

Laura's face flushed with anger. She opened her mouth to retort when the door burst open, and Maya rushed in, her face pale, clutching a file.

"Ms. Blake!"

"What now, Maya?" Sarah said through gritted teeth, her frustration mounting.

"Ma'am," Maya's voice trembled. "It's… it's John. He's…" She struggled for words, tears brimming in her eyes. "He's not responding."

What do you mean he is not responding? And without waiting for an answer ran out of the room.
the file fell from maya's hand. She looked back at laura. There gaze met. The stare had questions and answers and without saying anything maya ran out....

Sarah sprinted through the dimly lit hallway, her breath coming in short bursts, Maya trailing behind her. She burst into John's cell. Her heart plummeting cold sweat ran her over.

John was slumped in his chair, his head tilted unnaturally to the side. His skin was pale, and his chest was still. No sign of struggle. No wounds. Just… stillness.

"John!" Sarah screamed, her voice cracking as she rushed to him. She shook his shoulders, desperately searching for a pulse. Nothing.

The room swirled around her. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold floor. Her hands trembled as she stared at John's lifeless body.

Sarah awoke to the faint beeping of monitors and the cold sting of an IV in her arm. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she turned her head to see Maya sitting nearby, her face etched with worry.

"John…" Sarah's voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

Maya's expression darkened. "He's gone."

"No," Sarah said, shaking her head weakly. She tried to sit up, but her body betrayed her, collapsing back onto the pillows. "He… can't be…"

"Sarah, stop," Maya said firmly, holding her down. "You've pushed yourself too hard. Now this…"

Tears streamed down Sarah's face, and she let out a guttural sob. "I'm losing everything, Maya! Everything! What did I do wrong?"

Maya pulled her into a tight embrace, patting her back gently. "You didn't do anything wrong, Sarah. But you're crying over a man who betrayed you. Who didn't deserve your tears."

"But Maya… he was still…"

"What, Sarah?" Maya snapped, her voice breaking. "What was he? Faithful? Honest? No, he wasn't. Stop destroying yourself for him."

Sarah wiped her tears and looked at Maya, her expression hardening. "Where's Laura?"

Maya hesitated. "She… she escaped. Took two files with her."

Sarah's blood ran cold. "What files?"

"One was the case file you left on the table. The other… the chemical accident file."

Sarah's breath hitched. "Get a warrant. Find her. I want her and those files back in 24 hours."

And then Sarah under the influence of the sedatives again fell unconscious.

Maya stepped out, closing the door gently behind her. She leaned against it, her shoulders heaving as she let out a shaky breath. A sly smile curled on her lips, one she quickly concealed with her hand.

At last, she sighed deeply, composed herself, and strode purposefully toward the elevator, a strange glint in her eyes.

 

[accuscripter]

The atmosphere at the station was thick with tension. Sarah, though visibly weakened, was back in her element or so it seemed. Her pale face betrayed the inner turmoil, but her sharp eyes refused to lose focus. It wasn't her body failing her; it was the gaping wound in her heart, raw and relentless, that drained her strength. Maya, efficient and unrelenting, had taken the lead in managing the chaos.

John Blake's body had already been sent to forensics. The station was under a strict lockdown. No one was allowed to enter or leave without clearance, and surveillance footage from every angle was being scrutinized. Food samples from the last meal John consumed were collected for testing. The city itself seemed to bend under the weight of the investigation, with Laura Smith as its focal point. Every resource available was deployed to track her down. She was no longer just a suspect but a symbol of everything unraveling in Sarah's life.

Sarah watched Maya dart from desk to desk, giving orders with precision. Her gaze, however, was vacant, her mind elsewhere, until something snapped within her. She stood abruptly, startling Maya, who was stacking files nearby.

"Where are you going?" Maya asked cautiously, her voice laced with concern.

Sarah's tone was unusually casual, almost detached. "I need to change my clothes and calm my nerves. I'm going home."

Maya hesitated, not entirely convinced. "What about the lockdown?"

Sarah shot her a steely look. "Maya, I'll be back in an hour. No one leaves until I've reviewed every second of the footage."

Before Maya could argue, Sarah walked out, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than her words.

The drive to Vivian Donovan's apartment was quiet. The city outside seemed distant, blurred by the rain streaking against the windows of Sarah's black Jeep. When she arrived, she found herself hesitating at the door, her hand hovering over the bell. The sharp chime broke the silence of the hallway.

The door opened slightly, revealing a disheveled Vivian wrapped in a loose shrug, her hair tangled, her eyes half-shut. Without looking up, she muttered, "Come in, Stillenski."

Sarah's voice cut through. "Ms. Donovan?"

Vivian squinted, leaning closer. "Detective?"

Sarah offered a tight, almost apologetic smile as she stepped inside.

Vivian's apartment was dimly lit, the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. "Oh, wow. What did I do this time to deserve Detective Sarah Blake's visit at my humble abode?" Vivian's voice was dry, tinged with sarcasm as she gestured for Sarah to sit on the couch while her attempts at humor fell flat. Sarah sat quietly, observing her. Vivian leaned in, her face inches away, her messy hair falling over her shoulders. Her eyes were questioning, her lips curled into a faint, mocking smile.

"Yes?" Sarah asked, her tone neutral.

"Coffee?" Vivian offered, straightening up.

"No, sit, please… Do I Insist!" Sarah replied. "You don't look much better."

Vivian smirked. "You yourself look dead, Detective."

Ignoring the comment, Sarah watched as Vivian disappeared into the small kitchen, returning moments later with a tray of mismatched cups and plates filled with cookies and cupcakes.

Vivian set the tray down with exaggerated care. "Eat something. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in days."

At first Sarah resisted staring at her untouched mug she didn't feel like eating anything but Vivian was hell bent on her to have something... it was just clear to her that Sarah was troubled and it was the first time she was so calm and silent with Vivian. Also Vivian surprisingly ravenous, devouring the cookies looked herself pretty hungry as if she was waiting for someone to eat it together... this sincerity in Vivian's insistence was disarming. that pretty much reduced the reluctance of Sarah.
Slowly, she reached for a cookie. The two women, bound by mutual disdain, found themselves sharing a quiet moment over sweets. It was oddly surreal—nemeses sitting together, finding solace and backing their spirits in sweets and each others presence.

While sipping the coffee Vivian pretty much regained her color and valor ... she rested her head in her flexed hand over the couch arm... and other holding the cup her black hair covering her shoulders giving a ready to fight look... yes Sarah go on ... you seem much better now ... where are you cuffs? let's go back to station after coffee shall we?

Vivian leaned back, her black hair falling loosely over her shoulders, she had pretty much regained her color and valor. Her piercing gaze softened as she continued to sip her coffee. "So, Detective, you seem much better now … where are your cuffs? Shall we get this over with after coffee and go back to station?"

What?
Aren't you here to recapture me? Vivian took another sip

"By myself?" Sarah chuckled, the sound bitter. "You underestimate yourself, Ms. Donovan."

Vivian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Then?"

Sarah set her cup down, her hands trembling slightly. "My husband died this morning."

The room fell silent. Vivian's mocking demeanor faded. "Your husband?"

"John Blake," Sarah clarified.

You were married?

That's prejudices, Ms. Donovan, said Sarah with a slight wry smile on her face

Oh no, no! please accept my great apologies and sorrows, but yeah surely you don't really look like a family person detective Vivian said

at this Sarah let out a sigh

Vivian looked genuinely shocked.

"if you don't mind me asking What happened?"

no I won't... Sarah shook her head

Before Sarah could continue, the doorbell rang. Vivian stood abruptly, her sharpness returning. Opening the door, she found Max standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Well, well, well" Vivian said with feigned cheer, turning back to Sarah. "Look who's here." Vivian taunted; haughtily looking back at Sarah

I thought you are never going to come here again especially since you said it yourself!
Vivian said while returning her attention to max still blocking his way at the door to enter the house.

I called him Ms. Donovan if you don't mind... "ahhh, no no why I will mind", and Vivian cleared the way came back to her place holding back her mug

Max stepped inside, his presence heavy with tension. Without a word, he sat on the couch, keeping a careful distance from Vivian. He looked at Sarah, his voice low. "Detective, I heard about your husband."

Sarah nodded, her gaze fixed on her empty coffee cup. "John was in custody because of weak alibis. We suspected him of leaking confidential information related to this case."

"And who was he leaking it to?" Max asked.

"that someone seems to be" ... here Sarah took a long breath and looked at Vivian ... and then max ... as Sarah's eyes met his, and they both said in unison, "Laura Smith."

Vivian's face twisted in disbelief. "Laura? My Laura?"

Sarah's tone was sharp. "Yes, exactly that Laura.

Vivian's voice rose, her composure crumbling as she put down her cup down. "Sarah aren't you going too far?!!! you are involving everyone around me in this case?!!!"

First me, then my brother, and now Laura? Her eyes were teary an old wound retouched.

What more do you want from me tell me all at once but please I beg you don't involve my innocent people into your mess?"

Sarah also got hot... "Ms. Laura had an affair with my husband!"

"YES! now don't look at me like that!"

Sarah stood, her voice cutting through Vivian's outburst.

"Your innocent Laura Smith is a prime suspect in this whole mess that you are calling. Especially her random sudden presence at the station and my husband's death the very time today! And then she ran away with 2 of our confidential case files one with her chemical accident case from past year and other one this recent murder case file!!"

Sarah continued…

"And for your reference my Donovan do you even know that YOUR SO called own PEOPLE, Ms. Laura Smith had transitioned between biochemistry and business???

Do you know she was also the chief suspect in a chemical accident at her university?

Do you know that the recent murder case is also related to chemicals?

And do you know that according to our investigation the killer is presumably an ace in biochemistry and toxicology!!!

And most of all do you even know who reported you to the police for this murder case? And called us to catch you in her parking lot saying you were going to run away and was after her!

Snap out of it Ms. Donovan! she might be the murderer of all those people! your brother and my husband! and right now we can't even find her!!!

Vivian sat frozen, her face pale. "She wouldn't… she couldn't…"

Without another word, Sarah turned and walked out, leaving Vivian alone with her spiraling thoughts and Max struggling to console her.

 

[accuscripter]

The doorbell rang violently, shattering the uneasy silence in the apartment that was left after Sarah's accusation on Laura and her abrupt leave. Max, startled, rushed to open it and found Sarah standing in the dimly lit hallway, her face shadowed but her eyes sharp with determination.

She was back.

Without a word, he stepped aside, letting her enter. She strode in, her boots echoing against the hardwood floor, heading straight for Vivian, who was seated on the couch, still in a daze.

Sarah stood before Vivian, her voice firm yet restrained.

"I couldn't tell you the reason I was here… The reason I came here," she began, "is to ask for your cooperation in this matter. You liked Laura, you trusted her, and you had a bond. If she contacts you, or if you manage to contact her, I need you to let me know immediately."

And why do you think I will tell you? Vivian still pale and visibly shaken said arrogantly

Sarah softened her tone slightly. "I assure you, Vivian, if Laura isn't the killer, we won't make things hard for her. But she needs to come forward. We can't clear her name or investigate properly until she does."

"You know this better than anyone, that she need to cooperate with us!"

Vivian couldn't say more just looked down with her eyes squinted as if she was in an invisible pain.

With those final words, Sarah turned sharply and left, her figure disappearing into the shadowy corridor. The door clicked shut, leaving an oppressive stillness in its wake.

Vivian sat motionless for a few seconds, the weight of Sarah's words settling over her. Then, suddenly, as if struck by a thought, she bolted upright and rushed toward her bedroom. Alarmed, Max followed her, calling out, "wait? Wait! Where are you going?"

She didn't respond. The door slammed shut behind her, and Max hesitated outside, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Inside the room, Vivian frantically grabbed her phone from the bedside table. Her hands trembled as she tried to unlock it, but in her frantic state, she kept entering the wrong pattern.

A small beep followed by the message, "Try again in 30 seconds," flashed on the screen.

Frustration overtook her. She let out a strangled scream and threw the phone onto the couch. The sound of its impact echoed through the room as she collapsed onto the floor, squatting with her head buried in her hands. Her long hair cascaded down, veiling her face like a shroud, as deep, guttural sobs wracked her body.

Max, unable to bear the sound of her despair, entered cautiously. He knelt beside her, gently brushing the strands of hair away from her face. His voice was low, almost a whisper. "It's not your fault, Vivian."

Her teary, bloodshot eyes locked onto his, a mixture of sorrow and defiance flickering within them. Without a word, she pushed his hand away and dragged herself backward, putting distance between them. Her face, now streaked with tears, hardened as she snatched her phone off the couch.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she tried again to unlock it. This time, the pattern was correct. The screen illuminated, and she quickly searched her contacts for Laura's name. She dialed her number, her fingers trembling.

"The number you have dialed is not in service. Please try again later."

Her heart sank, but she didn't stop. She redialed. The same robotic message greeted her, slicing through her hope like a knife.

Her mind raced. She started pacing about the room. And suddenly she looked at her phone again…

Another number. I know another number.

She typed it in hastily. This time, the phone rang. Each buzz felt like an eternity. But no one picked up. She tried again and again, to no avail.

Just as despair began to claw at her, a message notification popped up on the screen. Her breath hitched as she opened it. The text was brief but chilling:

"I am at the company. Come find me. ALONE."

Vivian's heart pounded in her chest as she read the message. She stood abruptly, her resolve steeling. She moved toward her wardrobe, pulling out her formal attire with a determined urgency. Max, realizing something was amiss, followed her to the door.

"Vivian?" he called, his voice tinged with concern. "What's going on? Who was that?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she threw her hair into a tight bun, her bangs falling neatly to frame her face. She pushed him out of the room and locked it after her.

And before he could call after her she came out, picking up her car keys, she brushed past him without a word.

"Vivian!" Max called again, blocking her path. "Where are you going?"

Still silent, she shoved past him.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, he immediately called Sarah. "Detective Blake," he said, his voice urgent, "Vivian is going somewhere. I think she's heading to meet Laura."

"Did she say where?" Sarah's voice crackled on the other end.

"No, but I've got a bad feeling about this. I'm following her. You should bring reinforcements, but I don't think you should approach her yet."

He ended the call abruptly, slipping his phone into his pocket and rushed after her. She was getting into her car. He called after her.

VIVIAN DONOVAN!

But she didn't heed to his loud roar and as he watched helplessly she sped off out of the lot.

Without wasting another moment, he jumped into his car and peeled out of the parking lot after her, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he forcefully stepped on the accelerator.

Vivian's car raced ahead, a blur of determination cutting through the dimly lit streets. She didn't seem to notice Max's car trailing after hers.

The city lights blurred past as the chase continued, tension mounting with each passing second. Vivian's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his mind racing with thoughts of what awaited them at the rooftop. Was this a trap? Was Laura even there? And if she was, what did she want with her?

 

[accuscripter]

The hallways echoed with Vivian's frantic footsteps as she darted through the corridors of her company. It had been days since she'd last stepped foot in here. Her disheveled appearance and manic urgency drew the attention of everyone around her. Employees whispered among themselves, their gazes filled with confusion and fear, as she burst into rooms, her wild eyes searching for someone.

Finally, she reached the elevator. She stabbed the button repeatedly, as if her desperation could make it arrive faster. The metallic hum of the machinery was maddeningly slow. Each second felt like an eternity, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

When the elevator didn't come, Vivian let out a guttural cry and turned to the staircase. Her breath became ragged, each intake like shards of glass in her lungs. Her chest heaved, sweat dripping down her temple, mixing with the tears she didn't realize had begun to fall. She tripped once, her knee cracking painfully against the concrete, but she pushed on, clawing her way to the top floor. The weight of her fears, the urgency of her desperation, and the uncertainty of what awaited her pushed her forward.

Finally, she reached the top. She slammed open the door to the rooftop, that was already unlocked its screeching sound echoing like a shattering glass.

There she was.

Laura stood at the very edge of the rooftop, the city skyline framing her slender figure. The wind tugged at her golden hair, making her seem ethereal—like a ghost haunting the edge of existence.

"Laura!" Vivian gasped, her voice trembling with a mixture of relief and dread.

Laura turned slowly, her face devoid of expression except for a faint, almost eerie smile. "You came…" she said, her voice soft yet tinged with mockery.

Vivian took a hesitant step forward. "Laura, please… come down. We can talk."

Laura laughed, a sound that sent chills down Vivian's spine. "Talk? You're telling me to come down and talk? You?" She pointed a shaking finger at Vivian, her smile twisting into something bitter and ugly.

"I believe you!" Vivian cried, falling to her knees, her voice breaking. "I know you didn't do it. I believe you, Laura!"

Laura's laughter stopped abruptly. Her head tilted, her wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto Vivian's. "You… believe me?" she asked, her voice eerily calm.

"Yes!" Vivian clutched her chest as if trying to hold herself together.

Laura started laughing hysterically, her eyes getting teary and too wide enough pop out of their sockets... "Please, Laura. Just come down. Let's figure this out together."

"What figure out Vivian Donovan? What I have done Ms Vivian?"

For a moment, it seemed as if Laura might step away from the edge. But then she laughed again, hysterically, her hands clutching her head as though trying to keep it from exploding.

"You believe me !!! You are here right now because of that detective, aren't you? Didn't you call me to get it clear with me? Because she's breathing down your neck!" Laura screamed, her voice filled with venom.

Vivian's shoulders sagged, her strength faltering. She couldn't respond, couldn't convince Laura. Her lips moved, but no words came out, her knees fell weak and she dropped on her knees.

"no Laura listen to me ... please listen to me ... come down first" ...

Laura got serious her smile vanished.

From behind, Max's footsteps echoed as he climbed onto the rooftop. He froze for a moment, taking in the scene—the broken Vivian on the ground and Laura teetering on the edge.

"Ms. Laura Smith," he said carefully, his voice steady but gentle. "Step down. Let's talk this through. No one here wants you hurt."

Laura's head snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, you, a new addition to the story!" she sneered. "You're her lapdog, aren't you? following her around these days? Do you love her?"

Max hesitated, his jaw tightening. He glanced at Vivian, who was now rocking slightly, her face buried in her hands.

"Come down, Ms. Laura. This isn't the way," Max said, ignoring her question.

Laura squatted, at levels with Max as she teetered precariously on the edge. Her smile returned, sinister and knowing. "You think she's innocent? That she doesn't have blood on her hands?"

Max froze, the accusation hanging heavily in the air.

"You love her, but you don't know her," Laura whispered, her voice a dark melody. "Ask her. Ask her about my brother. She is here for her brother the one in whose direction she never even wanted to spit and now that he is dead she is pouring crocodile tears wailing with rattles of my brother my brother! That BITCH! Ask her about what she did."

Max's hands clenched into fists. "Laura, I don't care about your games. Step down. Now."

"GAMES?!!!"Laura laughed …
"Games?!
Me?!
Huh?
I am playing games? when she killed me brother didn't she think of the consequences of her actions?!
Well no worries she knows now! "

The door to the rooftop slammed open again, and Detective Sarah Blake stormed in, her gun drawn.

"Laura Smith! Don't you dare move another inch!" Sarah commanded.

Laura's face contorted into a mask of rage and mockery. "Ah, the great detective herself," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"yes detective how can I help you, your command is my duty"

she bowed knightly and then again let out a laugh "and then looked at max and Vivian with disgust as if to mock them about their sincerity...

"detective ... no no no I should call you Mrs. Blake beloved wife of Mr. John Blake ...

How's that broken marriage of yours, Mrs. Blake?"

 

[accuscripter]

Sarah's composure faltered for a moment. "Don't you dare bring him into this!" she hissed, her tone venomous.

"Oh, but I must!" Laura shouted, her voice rising. "You killed him! You couldn't even trust your own husband. And now you're here, judging me? "you are the one who shouldn't say his name! you killed him! if you even loved him one bit you would have believed him and wouldn't have suspected him !!! you don't even know he was helping you!"

Sarah took a step closer. "Laura, listen to me. Whatever you think you know, this isn't the way to handle it. Step down, and we'll talk."

Laura took a step back, her heel hanging off the edge. "Talk? No, Detective. I think we're long past talking; YOU cannot blame me for your errors !!! especially YOU … not YOU … don't you dare!!!

"Vivian Donovan I told you, not to get anyone here!!! you will regret for not listening to me!!!"

And then seeing Vivian's detoriating condition she cried,

"DON'T pretend in front of me!!! it's all your acting you maniac murderer!!!"

"you think no one will know what you have done!!! you really thought you could be a human??? and forget all about what you had?!!!"

ground seemed to slip under Max feet as he heard her say these words... he knew too clearly what Laura was saying... and in front of Sarah Blake. A police personnel.

Vivian didn't seem to heed to her word she was just scrambled on the floor like in a panic attack gasping for air and absently staring at Laura, her hand on her chest and other hand supporting her from lying flat on the ground.

"Ms. Laura smith ... listen to me I will protect you, I will do anything you ask me…" Max moved closer to Laura near the edge and said in a quiet voice that was not audible to anyone...

"I was right!!! you like her don't you, DAWG! ? Laura bent down and her face came in close proximity to his face, so close that he could even see the pattern of her iris and his own frightened shadow in her eyes...

"she is crying for her brother but when she killed my brother, she didn't know the consequences then? she thought she could get away with it THAT easily? and that no one will come after her? huh? what? cat got your tongue now?... BARK NOW???"

She was visibly happy to see him scared, absentminded and trembling under the weight of her words... but she was wrong, he was scared but he was not absent minded and was thinking and before she could react he encircled his arm around her waist without any reaction or a warning and pulled her towards him yanking her off balance and pulling her away from the edge. She screamed, clawing at him, but he held her firmly.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, kicking and writhing.

Sarah rushed forward, handcuffs ready. Laura fought like a wild animal, her nails digging into Max's arms.

"You don't understand!" Laura screamed. "I am not the KILLER! it's you! both of you she spits at Sarah ... no no not both of you all of you are killers !!! she was struggling hard..."

Sarah managed to cuff one wrist, "I didn't kill anyone it's not me... you killed john! did you even love him !!!! even when I wanted to love him he was loyal to you!!! that bitch killed him!!! you cannot do this to me!!! not you!!! you have no right!!! check in your people who follow you like dogs licking your boots but are snakes !!!"

Let me go !!! Laura cried

"IT WAS…" before she could say more a bullet came piercing her throat from front to back... she crumpled to the ground... holding her neck with her hands one cuffed and other free ... a gush of blood coming out like a fountain escaping through her fingers. max was holding her, Sarah horror struck and looked into the direction of bullet...

"WHO FIRED?!" Sarah roared, spinning toward the stairwell where her team had gathered now.

"It was me," Maya said, lowering her weapon.

"AGH!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Sarah bellowed.

"Ma'am…Sarah!" Maya tried to retaliate

"SHUT THE F*** UP"

"CALL FOR A MEDIC! NOW!"

Max cradled Laura's limp body as Sarah pressed a muffler to her neck in a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding. Vivian crawled toward them, her face pale and expressionless.

"Laura," Vivian whispered, her voice trembling.

Laura looked in the direction of Sarah and then behind her towards Maya who was busy calling the medic and glancing at her occasionally. then Laura passed her stare to Vivian. she took her blood stained hand away from her neck and moved her hand in search of something, as soon as her hand touched Vivian's she held it and painfully directed it towards one side... Vivian pulled her hand towards her and held it... Laura pulled it away with a screech and before Vivian could hold it again she started tracing with her finger, brushing against Vivian's skin. With her last ounce of strength, she traced two shaky letters onto Vivian's palm: "RT…"

and then he eyes rolled and her hand fell limp.

"Laura?" Vivian whispered again, tears streaming down her face.

Max shouted "Detective?!"

And they rushed her to the hospital leaving behind Vivian. Who was sitting there struck and senseless... she again fell to the ground, seemingly in a prostration with an unknown silent prayer, on her lips.... But maybe it was too late.

 

[accuscripter]

He finally fully grasped the magnitude of her suffering. It all made sense now - her guarded heart, her reluctance to trust men and

Maya was storming through Laura's workspace, flipping through files, opening drawers, and examining every corner with a sharp, determined focus. The employees watched in stunned silence as she moved on to Vivian's office, meticulously inspecting every inch. Her face was stern, a blend of urgency and fury, as if she was chasing something elusive yet critical. Finally, as though struck by a sudden realization, she briskly walked over to Mark's desk.

She rifled through his belongings with such ferocity that papers scattered across the floor. Without hesitation, she confiscated several items, her tone clipped and final as she instructed, "Bag these. Take everything to the station. These will be on my desk when Sarah returns."

A junior officer hesitated before approaching Maya. "Ms. Maya… why are we doing this?"

Maya turned sharply, her glare piercing through the officer. "What do you mean by that?"

The officer stammered, "I mean…we weren't given orders for this, and, well, this is causing quite a stir. It's spreading through the company like wildfire."

Maya's eyes narrowed as her voice grew icier. "A police officer doesn't wait for orders when they know what needs to be done. This is what Sarah would want if she were here. But instead, they've taken the culprit to the hospital, which is useless."

The officer blinked in confusion. "What's useless?"

Maya exhaled sharply, her voice dripping with impatience. "Taking her to the hospital. She's dead. And you, why are you so talkative today?" Rolling her eyes, she barked another order. "Move it. Get all this to the station!"

Meanwhile, Max had returned to the rooftop in a frenzy. He'd sent Laura to the ambulance but couldn't shake the image of Vivian, frozen in the same posture, her shoulders rigid and eyes void of life. He rushed to her side.

"Vivian!" His voice was thick with worry as he knelt beside her. She was clutching her hand tightly, hiding something within her grasp. He tried gently prying her fingers open. "Vivian, let me see."

But she wouldn't relent. Her grip was iron, her knuckles white. Max softened his tone, sensing her distress. "Vivian, I already know what she wrote. But please, let me help you."

Her glassy eyes met his, but she didn't respond. He realized then that she wasn't intentionally refusing, she was lost, trapped within her own torment.

Max cupped her face tenderly, his thumbs brushing her tear-streaked cheeks. "Listen to me, Vivian. Laura will be alright. They'll do their best to save her. You don't have to carry this weight alone."

At his words, a choked sob escaped her lips. She whispered hoarsely, "She… she said I killed her brother."

Max froze. His breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to still.

"Who is her brother?" Vivian's voice cracked, desperation clawing at her throat.

Max struggled for words, his gaze darting away. "The one… back in high school." His voice was barely audible, laden with guilt and hesitation.

Vivian's expression shifted from despair to horror. Her trembling hands clutched his shoulders, shaking him violently. "That's what I'm asking! Which one?"

Her voice broke as she screamed, "I didn't kill just one, Max. I killed three people!" Her sobs wracked her entire body as she crumpled before him. "Which one was her brother?"

Max stumbled back, his legs buckling under the weight of her revelation. His heart pounded against his ribs, each beat echoing in his ears. Three?

He steadied himself, swallowing the lump in his throat. Forcing himself to meet her shattered gaze, he knelt before her again. "Vivian, look at me. None of this is your fault."

She pushed him away, her voice a sharp cry. "How is it not my fault? Laura was right, I'm a monster! I've devoured lives, I even killed the man who brought me into this world!" Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands, her sobs echoing into the night.

Max stood, pacing, his mind racing. Every fiber of his being screamed to protect her, to shield her from the storm raging within. But her words haunted him, cutting deep into his resolve. Finally, he stopped and crouched before her again.

"Vivian. Look at me." He gripped her shoulders firmly.

She tried to pull away. "Leave me!"

"Vivian, look at me!" His voice was commanding, his eyes searching hers. "This isn't you. You're stronger than this. You've been through worse and survived. Tell me what happened that night."

Her lips quivered, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. In broken words, she began, "I went to the party… Emily took me. They wanted to…" She couldn't finish the sentence, her voice cracking with anguish. "He pushed me. I grabbed a knife…"

Max clenched his fists, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He'd pieced together what had likely happened, but hearing it from her, seeing her pain, was unbearable.

"Vivian… did you know the boy?"

She shook her head weakly. "No."

He exhaled sharply. "Then what happened?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I ran away. I saw her."

Max's brows furrowed. "Who?"

"A woman. I used to see her from the window. He was beating her, she was almost dead. I hit him with a brick… he died." Her sobs overtook her again, and she buried her face in her arms.

Max's heart broke for her. He gently pulled her into an embrace, stroking her hair. "Vivian, none of this is your fault. You were trying to survive. You were trying to save someone. And Laura's brother… if he was the boy at that party, then he was a monster. She wouldn't forgive him either if she knew."

His words seemed to calm her, and she slowly nodded.

They turned their attention to Laura's final words. "RT," Max murmured, frowning.

"Right?" Vivian's voice was tentative, her exhaustion evident.

Max's eyes lit up. He recalled how Laura had tried to direct Vivian's hand before. "Right. She pushed your hand to the right."

He bolted toward the right side of the rooftop, scanning every inch. His eyes landed on a small pot of daisies. He noticed the soil seemed disturbed. With effort, he upturned the pot, revealing folded papers and a sealed letter.

He rushed back to Vivian, tucking the papers into his coat. "This is what was missing from the station."

Vivian's hands trembled as she opened the letter. Tears streamed down her face as she read its contents. Every word cut deeper, unraveling her defenses. Max pulled her into a tight embrace as she collapsed against him, unconscious.

Max held her close, his own tears finally breaking free. In that moment, he realized the depth of her pain, and all the answers to why she was always pushing him... she had experience with bad men, at this point though it was not his fault he felt disgusted of his own gender , his slight sob was audible to him as he hid his face on her shoulder.

Max held her close, his own tears finally overflowing. He finally fully grasped the magnitude of her suffering. It all made sense now - her guarded heart, her reluctance to trust. She had been hurt by men before, and the weight of that realization settled heavy on Max's chest. - He felt a wave of disgust wash over him, ashamed to share the same gender as those who had hurt her. A faint sob escaped his lips as he buried his face in her shoulder, struggling to come to terms with his own emotions.


Read ahead at patreon.com/accuscripter

 

[accuscripter]

Maya Albert stood in front of Sarah Blake, her shoulders slightly hunched as she stared at the floor. The air in the room was thick with tension, Sarah's anger palpable as she stood across from her, eyes burning with a fury that only years of experience in law enforcement could produce.

"Maya Albert," Sarah's voice was controlled but every word came out like a lash, sharp and punishing. "Do you realize the gravity of what you've done? Do you understand the mess you've created these past few days? I've always let your previous mistakes slide, but this? This is a whole new level of recklessness!"

Sarah's eyes bore into Maya, trying to read the woman before her, the one who had been nothing short of a ticking time bomb ever since the investigation began. She took a step closer, her jaw clenched as she tried to contain her frustration. "You shot a suspect, Maya. Do you understand the laws of this department? The laws of the very justice system you're supposed to uphold?"

Maya stood there, head lowered, her face calm, eerily so. Her body was rigid, but there was an air of indifference surrounding her. She was unrepentant, as if her actions didn't matter.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," she said, her voice flat, devoid of any real emotion.
"But the situation was out of my control."

Sarah's frustration reached its peak. She stepped forward, her fists clenched at her sides.
"Don't apologize to ME. I don't need your empty words, Maya. I need an explanation!
Why did you do it? What was your reasoning?"

But Maya said nothing. She just stood there, her silence more damning than any confession could have been. It was clear she didn't see her actions as a mistake, and that was what stung the most. Sarah could sense Maya's peace with the chaos she had caused, and it unsettled her more than she could put into words. "You have no remorse," Sarah whispered more to herself than to Maya. "You don't even understand what you've done."

Maya's lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile, as if she was at peace with the storm she had set in motion. Sarah clenched her fists, her heart racing. "You have no idea the consequences, do you?"

"Nothing to say," Maya replied, her voice empty. "I'm willing to take whatever comes. It doesn't matter."

And then a loud crashing sound was heard… Sarah had slapped her with all her might, she just couldn't control it anymore…

"Get out of my sight!" she spat, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Maya turned without a word and walked out, the door slamming behind her.

Just as Sarah collapsed into her chair, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster, a soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. An officer entered, holding a file. "Ma'am," the officer began, his voice tense, "Here's the list of all items confiscated from the company today. Also, we managed to get the CCTV footage from John Blake's cell this morning. I checked it, but there's nothing. No one entered his cell. He died... just as if he was sleeping."

Sarah's brows furrowed as she absorbed the words. "What do you mean, sleeping?" she asked, confusion clouding her mind.

The officer shifted uneasily, his eyes darting toward the ground. "It's strange, ma'am. He was fine, and then... Maya went in. She put the tray down, left, and he just... died in minutes."

"What did you say?" Sarah's voice raised in disbelief.

Died in minutes…?

No before that …

"Ah…Yes, ma'am, Ms. Maya entered the cell, placed the tray down, and left. No one went in after that. Then he passed away, as if nothing had happened. He didn't even touch the food"

"Who told her to go in?" Sarah stood up, her blood running cold. She felt a deep sense of dread settle over her. "Why would she be in there?"

The officer's hesitation was palpable. "I... I thought you gave the orders, ma'am."

Sarah's heart dropped. "What?" she asked, feeling the room close in on her.

And what about this list of item??? Who told you to confiscate them???

Ms. Maya…

MAYA?

Where are the items??? Sarah questioned

"Ms. Maya... she asked me to put the items on her table," the officer continued, clearly nervous. "She... she said you would want it."

Sarah's eyes widened, her chest tightening as the pieces started to fall into place. "Maya," she muttered under her breath, suddenly panicked. "Where are the items? Where are they?"

The officer looked down, his voice shaking. "Ms. Maya asked me to place them on her table." He seemed oblivious to the magnitude of the situation.

Without a word, Sarah ran out, her body filled with urgency. "Get out of here!" she snapped at the officer, who scrambled to leave. Sarah rushed to Maya's desk, her thoughts spinning. She could already feel a storm brewing.

She reached Maya's desk, her hands trembling as she saw Maya already going through the items, inspecting them. "What do you think you're doing?" Sarah demanded, her voice shaking with fury as she grabbed Maya's hand, halting her actions.

Maya looked up, unfazed, her expression cool, almost mocking. "Nothing, ma'am."

"Nothing?" Sarah spat, her grip tightening around Maya's wrist. "Who told you to do this? Who gave you the right to confiscate these items and then go through these files, these items?"

Maya tilted her head slightly, her eyes glinting with something Sarah couldn't quite place. "You would have wanted it," Maya said softly, almost smugly.

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "I would have wanted it?" she repeated, her voice cracking with disbelief. "For heaven's sake, Maya, stop making excuses. You're out of control."

Her anger boiled over as she turned, calling for guards. "Right this instant, arrest Maya Albert!"

"For what?" Maya asked, her voice full of derision. "What have I done?"

"I've had enough of you!" Sarah shouted, her voice a mix of anger and exhaustion. "Get her locked up immediately!"

Two sturdy guards stepped forward, their hands gripping Maya's arms. Maya, however, didn't fight back. Instead, she stood there, her expression now changing and color turning pale. "You don't understand," she said, her voice calm, almost serene. "You don't know what's really happening here."

Sarah, growing impatient, reached for Maya's chin, gripping it with a firmness that reflected her years of experience. Her voice was low, controlled, yet heavy with all the emotions she couldn't express.

"I didn't even believe my own husband. What makes you think I'll believe you?"

Maya tried to jerk away, but the guards held her firm. Before Sarah could say another word, the door to the office swung open with a force that made the room seem smaller. Max strode in, his eyes wide with shock as he saw what was happening. He stepped forward, motioning to Sarah with a swift gesture. "Detective, please. A moment," he said, his voice calm but urgent.

Sarah hesitated, looking between him and Maya. With a sigh, she motioned for him to follow her to the meeting room.

As they left, the guards, momentarily distracted by the change in attention, lost their grip on Maya. In a flash, she yanked herself free, sprinting toward the door.

"Stop her!" someone shouted from behind, but Maya was already gone, her phone ringing incessantly with an unknown number flashing on the screen.


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[accuscripter]

Maya was rushing out of the police station, her heart pounding as her shoes clattered loudly against the tiled floor. She could barely focus, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The corridor stretched endlessly before her, every step echoing like a countdown. As she reached the staircase outside the station, her adrenaline surged, her body practically flying down the steps two at a time.

But before she could make it far, a shadow loomed behind her. A hand clamped over her face, muffling her scream before it could even escape her lips. Maya struggled instinctively, her body twisting, ready to fight back, but she was thrown off balance. Her feet slipped on the edge of a step, and she was about to tumble headlong into the void when something cold and unyielding pressed against her back.

The sharp, chilling sensation of a metal rod froze her in place.

"Be quiet," a voice hissed into her ear. The words were barely audible, but the menace behind them was unmistakable. Maya's struggles weakened as drug overtook her. Her vision blurred, her breaths ragged and shallow. And before she could even think of a way to fight back, darkness consumed her. She fell unconscious.

She adjusted the unconscious Maya over her shoulder, her movements calculated and efficient, as though she had done this before. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit parking lot, her senses heightened, ready to act at the slightest sign of trouble. Her car was parked only a few meters away, and the weight of Maya's limp body pressed heavily against her.

As she moved toward the car, she was stopped abruptly by a tall, broad-shouldered officer who had just stepped out of the building. His suspicious eyes scanned the scene, narrowing at the sight of a frail woman carrying an unconscious woman.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he barked, stepping into her path. His hand hovered near his radio as if ready to call for backup.

Her heart raced, but her face betrayed nothing. She adjusted her hold on Maya, forcing a casual smile to her lips. "Ah, officer, no need to worry," she said smoothly, her voice light and disarming. "She's my friend. Had a bit too much to drink tonight, and I'm just helping her to the car."

The officer's gaze didn't waver. "Where are you coming from?" he asked, his tone stern.

"A nearby restaurant," she lied effortlessly, gesturing vaguely toward the street. "It was supposed to be a fun night, but she overdid it. You know how it goes."

The officer stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied Maya's unconscious form. He bent slightly, gently shaking her shoulder. "Hey! Wake up! Do you know this person?" he asked loudly, his voice sharp.

Maya didn't stir. Her head lolled to the side, her breathing shallow but steady.

The officer straightened, his suspicion deepening. "What's your name, miss?" he demanded, his tone hardening.

Her mind raced, but she kept her composure. "My name?" she repeated, feigning confusion.

"Yes! Tell me your name… now," the officer snapped, stepping even closer.

She forced a laugh, though her grip on Maya tightened. "Why do you want to know my name, officer?" she asked, her tone light but with a subtle edge of defiance.

The officer's gaze bore into her. "You look suspicious, that's why. Now tell me your name. Quickly."

She hesitated for the briefest moment before responding.

"Vivian Donovan," she said, her voice steady, almost daring him to question her further.

"And the name of this woman?" the officer pressed, nodding toward Maya.

Vivian hesitated again, just long enough to arouse even more suspicion. "Maya," she said finally.

"Full name?" the officer demanded, his tone sharp.

"Maya…" Vivian started, but before she could finish, the officer's radio crackled, and a voice called out urgently, pulling his attention away.

Vivian seized the opportunity. She adjusted Maya's weight on her shoulder and started walking briskly toward her car, her pulse pounding in her ears. She reached the vehicle, threw open the back door, and dumped Maya onto the seat. Slamming the door shut, she climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, and sped off.

---

Back at the station, chaos reigned. Sarah Blake paced the room, her mind racing as officers scrambled around her. Max stood near the wall, silent but visibly tense, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"Yes, ma'am?" A junior officer approached Sarah, his face pale with anxiety.

Sarah turned to him, her eyes blazing. "A fugitive has escaped the station," she snapped. "You were outside. Did you see anyone running out?"

The officer's eyes widened. "No, ma'am," he stammered. "I didn't see anyone running."

Sarah's glare intensified. "Are you sure?" she pressed, her voice cutting through the noise around them.

"Yes, ma'am," he said again, his voice trembling. Then, as if struck by a sudden realization, he hesitated. "But… I did see a woman carrying another woman out. She said the other was drunk, but…"

"What?" Sarah's voice rose sharply, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "You saw someone carrying another woman? And you didn't stop them?"

"I did, ma'am!" the officer protested, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I stopped them and asked their names."

Sarah's patience was wearing thin. "And? Who were they?"

The officer glanced down at his notes, then back up at Sarah with a look of guilt. "The woman said her name was Vivian Donovan, and the other was… Maya."

"Maya?" Sarah's voice cracked as the name echoed through the room. Gasps rippled through the gathered officers.

Max stiffened, a chill running down his spine. "Vivian," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He exchanged a tense, knowing glance with Sarah.

"You let them go?" Sarah barked, her fury boiling over.

"Ma'am, I… I was going to bring them inside," the officer stammered. "But then you called me on the radio, and—"

"Damn it!" Sarah slammed her hand onto the nearest desk, her frustration spilling over. "Where are they now?"

"They… they drove off, ma'am," the officer admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

Sarah didn't waste another second. "Get the plate number," she ordered sharply. "Alert all nearby stations and roadblocks. Find that car, and stop it. Now!"

The room erupted into action as officers scrambled to follow her orders. Max, unable to contain his anxiety, bolted for the door.

"Where are you going?" Sarah shouted after him.

"To find them," Max called back, his voice grim.

Sarah hesitated for only a moment before motioning to a few other officers. "Go with him," she commanded. Then, turning to the remaining officers, she added, "The rest of you, stay here and keep me updated. We're not letting them disappear."
read ahead at patreon.com/acuscripter. as we are heading towards the end dont be shy to share your thoughts.

 

[accuscripter]

I will pay for what I have done with my life and

The icy splash of water hit Maya's face like a storm. Her eyes flew open, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. Disoriented, she jerked upright, only to realize she was on a rooftop under the eerie glow of the city lights. Her trembling hands pressed against the cold concrete as her senses began to return.

Her movements stilled when she felt something cold and wet under her. Confused, she glanced down, her breath catching in her throat as she saw it, dark, sticky, and crimson. Blood.

She let out a piercing shriek, scrambling back, her fingers slipping against the slick surface. Her body trembled violently, her voice breaking, "W-What is this?!"

Vivian Donovan stood a few steps away, her shadow stretching menacingly under the pale moonlight. Her sharp features were illuminated only slightly, but the glint of the pistol in her hand was unmistakable. She squatted in front of Maya, her face eerily calm, the barrel of the weapon casually pointed downward.

"You think it's your blood?" Vivian's voice was almost a whisper, dripping with mockery and menace.

Maya's wide eyes darted between the blood and Vivian. Her lips quivered, but no words came out.

Vivian tilted her head, observing Maya's terror with unnerving detachment. "No, darling, it's not your blood. It's hers. The toy you used to play with, to get your revenge. The one you discarded without a second thought when she became useless."

As the words sank in, Maya's breath quickened. Her mind raced, and suddenly, as if a curtain had been lifted, the memory came crashing down.

Her eyes darted around the rooftop, recognizing it now, the same rooftop where she had shot Laura Smith only hours ago. The realization hit her like a blow to the chest, and she instinctively tried to scoot further away. But no matter where she moved, the blood seemed to follow, a grotesque reminder of her sins.

Vivian rose slowly, following Maya's every move like a predator toying with its prey. "No, no, don't panic," she said, her tone laced with mock sympathy. She crouched again, locking eyes with Maya. "Don't even think about running. Even if you manage to get away, I'll make sure the next pool of blood on this rooftop is yours."

Maya's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "W-What do you want?"

Vivian smiled, a chilling, weary smile. "What do I want? Why don't you ask me the right question? Why am I doing this?"

"Why?" Maya stammered, her body trembling as tears welled in her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Vivian's face darkened, the tiredness in her posture replaced by a surge of fury. In an instant, she lashed out, striking Maya across the face. The force sent Maya sprawling to the ground, blood trickling from her lips as she tried to prop herself up.

"WHY?!" Vivian roared, producing a crumpled letter from her coat pocket. She held it up, her hand shaking with rage. "What do you think this is?"

Maya looked at the letter, confusion and fear clouding her tear-streaked face.

"I said, WHAT IS THIS?" Vivian's voice rose to a fever pitch as she struck Maya again, harder this time.

"I, I don't know!" Maya cried, her voice breaking.

Vivian exhaled slowly, her voice softening to an almost motherly tone that was somehow more terrifying. "Ah, you don't know? Then let me read it to you."

With deliberate slowness, she unfolded the letter and began to read, her voice trembling with restrained emotion.

Laura Smith's Letter to Vivian:

"Vivian... I just got to know about what my brother did to you...But I cannot believe you... and I still don't want to forgive you … why? I also don't know...

But I have to accept that knowing this, has made me realize that, I shouldn't have pursued the past... I will not say sorry but I am willing to tell that ... yes I was involved in this murder case and yes we wanted to pin it on you to get even for the murder of my brother and murder of Maya's parents. But, Maya that same Maya working with Sarah Blake. Sarah thought it was John but actually it was Maya, who was doing everything under nose. John had hunch about what was going on so he tried to be with me and find everything about the murder and I also did try to use him but I pretty much failed, because he sometimes gave false news or gave none at all ... so Maya sown the seed of suspicious in Sarah and at last got rid of him by his own wife's hand. I am not guilty of what I have done to you but for what I have done to others I am guilty... I provided Maya with phosphine perfumes and she used it to carry out the murders.
I will pay for what I have done with my life…

Till next life... let's be sisters in next life..."

Vivian's voice cracked as she read the final lines. She folded the letter back, her movements robotic. Her chest rose and fell heavily, her rage and sorrow warring within her.

"Maya," she said softly, her voice eerily calms now, "you destroyed my life. You used everyone around you as pawns, including me. And for what? Revenge?"

Maya, trembling, couldn't hold back any longer. "YOU DESERVED IT!" she screamed, her voice shrill with anguish. "You KILLED my parents! You DESTROYED my life!"

Vivian's grip on her pistol faltered as she stared at Maya, her expression unreadable. "Maya," she said, her voice almost a whisper, "when did I kill your parents?"

Maya's fury boiled over. "I SAW YOU!" she screamed. "You killed my father! You killed my mother! It's because of you that I became an officer. But the straight path wasn't enough for you. I had to go off the rails to end you, piece by piece."

I SAW YOU RUN AWAY THAT NIGHT!!!

And then Maya elaborated with disgust Vivian sat down on the ground... fidgeting with the pistol

After listening to her Vivian said…

"Maya… yes I will say I might have killed your father... but no I didn't kill your mother..."

"Shut up!!! you will say it like that now !!! you cannot prove anything!!!"

"Then how do you that I killed your parents?" Vivian shouted

"I SAW YOU!!!"

"Did you saw me killing your father or did you saw me killing your mother????

I said SHUT UP!!!! Maya roared

"Maya!!!" at this Vivian shook Maya "look in my eyes Maya!!!"

"Maya !!! it was not me who killed your mother!!!"

"It was your father who killed your mother, he was hitting her badly and I had just run away from a molestation attempt, I had killed Laura's brother though mistakenly, as I was running away with torn cloths and haggard condition I saw your mother's head on the stairs and her body hidden inside the dark of the open door inside the house... only her head was visible to me and it was bleeding profusely filling the entire staircase... and then a man came over her punching her... I couldn't contain myself so I held a brick nearby and hit him all the might and threw him aside..."

 

[accuscripter]

"THIS IS NOT TRUE!!!" Maya cried her eyes wide opened

"I liked your mother Maya!!!" Vivian said bitterly, she couldn't keep herself strong anymore, nor she had same hate against Maya now, knowing who she was.

"You yourself know Maya that this is true!!!"

"It didn't look like as if your father did it for the 1st time!!!"

"I remember I always used to see your mother from my school window... she was my ideal for an ideal life... but as I say my muse to living die before my eyes I couldn't resist to protect her..."

"It was your mother who had called the police and as I heard the sirens I wanted to hand myself over to the police but your mother", at this Vivian broke down... a few sobs and she continued...

"But your mother told me ... "

"Get away run away you know nothing"

"Please live for my sake !!!"

"And then she took the brick and hit him again and then fell on his chest..."

"I still her remember her eyes in the dark, telling me to leave..."

"Maya I am living on the borrowed life from your mother !!! that's why I lived to the best ... I thought I was cunning... and that everyone I hated was getting out of my life...

When I heard that Emily and her sister were killed, though I was disturbed I was happy !!! same with Mark when he died I was happy .... it felt as if I was the one who was causing the killings... I could imagine the whole scenario of their deaths and find solace in their misery and broken last breaths!!!

It was death of my brother and max and his daughter who brought my back to my senses that I was not the murderer!!!"

Maya had no words now she was whimpering like a kid... it was unbearable for her…her own life and career revolving around getting revenge only to find out that she remembered it all wrong...and that she was wrong all along…

The rooftop fell silent except for the sound of Maya's and Vivian's sob.

…..

When Max and Sarah burst onto the rooftop moments later, they found two broken women, one sobbing uncontrollably, the other staring vacantly at the blood-soaked ground.

They were both captured and brought to trial.

Maya confessed everything, her crimes unraveling in front of the whole world. The phosphine perfumes were traced to her, and she was sentenced to life imprisonment.

Vivian, though haunted by her past, was spared severe punishment due to mitigating circumstances. For the case of Laura's brother, the statute of limitations had expired it was not pursued and for Maya's parents case her mother had been deemed the murderer according to the clear evidence that year so it was not reopened. In short Vivian was sentenced to a year in prison with community service for kidnapping a fugitive.

Sarah sat in her office, the contents of the letter confiscated from Vivian spread out before her. The evidence was conclusive. Every piece had fallen into place, but as she stared at the words, her hands trembled. It wasn't just the revelation of Maya's guilt or Vivian's troubled past that weighed on her, it was her own culpability.

The memory of her husband, John, felt like a ghost in the room, his laughter a faint echo in her ears. For twenty years, she had buried the truth behind a wall of pride and justice. She had convinced herself that the law was a shield, but now, it felt more like a weapon she had wielded carelessly, even against those she loved most.

After a sleepless night, she typed out her resignation letter. Every keystroke felt like a confession, the weight of two decades pouring into her words.

Next morning she stood before the committee, her resignation letter clutched in her hands. The room filled with the sharp eyes of her superiors. One of them leaned forward, his tone a mix of disbelief and frustration.

"Sarah, you've just cracked one of the biggest cases in decades. Do you realize the magnitude of your accomplishment? Your promotion is guaranteed. Why throw it all away?"

She met their eyes, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow. "Because I don't deserve it."

Murmurs rippled through the room, but she continued, her tone resolute.

"I became an officer to serve justice, to protect the innocent. But in my own home, I failed to see the truth. I failed my husband. My prejudice, my unwillingness to listen, cost him his life. I can't stand here, wearing this badge, knowing what it truly represents, for me, it's a reminder of my failure."

Her words left the room in silence. One of the committee members finally spoke, his voice softening. "Sarah, everyone makes mistakes. You can use this experience to guide others, to ensure that no one else makes the same errors."

She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes.

"No. My mistakes are not lessons for others, I failed my husband and I failed the system when I couldn't even found that my own underling was the murderer;
No… they are a burden I will carry for the rest of my life. This position deserves someone with a clear conscience, someone who hasn't let their personal failures taint the justice they stand for."

The committee reluctantly accepted her resignation, their disappointment palpable, but Sarah felt a strange sense of relief as she signed her name for the last time as Detective Sarah Blake.

Packing up her belongings was a surreal experience. Each item she placed in her box held a memory: case files, framed commendations, and a photo of her and John from the early days of their marriage. She lingered on that photo, tracing his face with her finger.

The moment she stepped outside, the chill of the winter air hit her. She turned back to look at the station, her gaze fixed on the doorway where she had first met John. They had bumped into each other, quite literally, as young rookies. His laugh had been infectious, and her heart had fluttered in a way she had never felt.

She chuckled softly at the memory, the bitter sweetness of it tightening her chest. She turned away, as she took a step forward, her legs buckled. The weight of everything, her grief, finally overcame her. She collapsed.

 

[accuscripter]

Max clutched his chest, groaning in mock agony. "Oh, the joy of hearing you say my name! It's so overwhelming I might just die here

One Year Later

The sharp sunlight made Vivian squint as she stepped out of the prison gates. She instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes when, out of nowhere, a little girl ran up and wrapped her tiny arms around Vivian's legs, clutching them tightly.

"Mama!" the child cried, her voice ringing with uncontainable joy.

Vivian looked down, stunned. A little girl stood before her, her features strikingly familiar, like a ghost from the past. Her soft curls and deep, expressive eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to someone Vivian knew.

She smiled faintly, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her. "I'm not your mama, love," she said softly.

But the child, undeterred, clung tighter and cried again, "Mama!"

Vivian crouched down, gently brushing the girl's hair away from her face. "Sweetheart, I'm not your mama," she repeated, her voice kinder this time, tinged with curiosity.

The girl didn't answer but instead threw her small arms around Vivian's neck in a tight embrace. Vivian was trying to gently pry her off when a shadow fell over them, and a familiar figure knelt beside her.

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. That calm face, framed by soft hair streaked with gray, and that gentle smile, it was a face she knew all too well.

"Max Stillenski," she whispered, the name slipping from her lips before she could stop it.

Max clutched his chest dramatically, groaning in mock agony. "Oh, the joy of hearing you say my name! It's so overwhelming I might just die right here!"

Before Vivian could respond, Max moved closer, a wide grin lighting up his face. "You still remember me! And like always, I don't even have to reintroduce myself."

"Max, what are you doing here?" Vivian asked, her voice wary but tinged with something else, something she couldn't quite name.

Instead of answering, Max leaned in and wrapped both Vivian and the little girl in a tight hug, ignoring Vivian's protests. "What are you doing? Let go of me!" she demanded, trying to squirm away.

Ava giggled, her voice muffled against Vivian's shoulder. "Daddy, I can't breathe!"

At this, Max finally loosened his grip, laughing. "Well, I guess Daddy better step back now. You've got your mama back, don't you?"

"You don't need you daddy do you?"

The little girl nodded enthusiastically, wrapping her tiny arms around Vivian's neck again. Max and Vivian exchanged a look, his filled with joy, hers a conflicted mix of disbelief, confusion, and something softer she couldn't admit to herself.

The Turning Point

Well… its quite useless to explain how Vivian tried to push Max away, to reject his relentless attempts to draw her back into life. She used all sorts of excuses,

"Max, I'm not the person you think I am. I'm broken. I'm a bad daughter, a criminal, a stain on society. I don't deserve happiness, and I don't want my shadow to darken yours, or Ava's."

But Max didn't give up. He stood by her, unwavering. It wasn't grand gestures or big speeches that turned the tide, it was the truth.

"Vivian," he said one day, his voice steady, "Laura Smith is alive."

Her heart stopped. She stared at him, unblinking, as he explained.

The bullet hadn't killed Laura but had left her severely injured. Her throat and spine had been damaged, rendering her unable to speak and in need of long rehabilitation. Laura wasn't gone, but she wasn't the same, either.

The day Vivian saw Laura in hospital working with different therapists on her walking and then for her speech therapy. For Laura it was her second chance at life and when Vivian reminded her the letter's last line,

"Till next life…In next life I will be your sister"

The very day Laura literally held her hand as a sister…she found her lost piece of life.

Then came the meeting with Sarah Blake. It was Sarah's candid honesty that finally broke through Vivian's walls.

"I'm a bad daughter, Sarah," Vivian admitted, her voice cracking. "I destroyed my family. I ruined lives. I...."

Sarah laughed; a warm, knowing laugh that startled Vivian into silence. "Vivian, do you know what I am? I'm not just a bad daughter. I'm also a bad wife. According to your logic, I should disappear from everyone's lives too, right? Become a ghost? Should I just end it all kill me self??? Commit myself??? because society sees me as a failure??? And because what I did was to the best of my ability in cracking the situations???"

The words struck Vivian like a bolt of lightning, snapping her back to reality. "That's ridiculous," she muttered, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Exactly," Sarah replied gently, placing a hand on Vivian's shoulder. "Your mistakes don't define you. What you do next, that's what matters."

Two Years Later

A crisp breeze danced through the park as Vivian strolled along the path, her hands firmly gripping the handles of a wheelchair. Laura sat in it, her smile warm and serene, her eyes following the playful little girl darting ahead of them.

"Careful, Ava!" Vivian called out, her voice tinged with affection.

The girl laughed, twirling in circles before running back to grab her mother's hand. "Come on, Mama!"

Behind them, Max walked at a leisurely pace, his happiness barely contained. The sight of his family together filled him with an indescribable joy.

From the other direction, a familiar figure appeared. Sarah Blake waved, her smile as bright as the sunshine. She joined them, her steps light, as if she too had found some semblance of peace in this new formed family. Max place his hand over Vivian's shoulder as he and Vivian waved back to Sarah.

There they were, a group of people society had labeled "bad daughters," each of them carrying scars that ran deep. Yet here they were, together, finding their own version of happiness, rewriting their stories, and proving that no one is beyond redemption and protecting what they deemed important to them.