Patterns of Betrayal: Can She Recover from What Was Lost

By Natalliah Bowdoin

Lenora strongly believed she lives in paradise. She had her dream as a crime investigator, her soulmate in the form of a friend, luxuries, well-known boxer of a lover, and a beautiful son. But paradise does not belong to everyone, at least not to the liars and the ones lied to. She learns this first hand when after a soul-wrenching accident her life completely crumbles before her eyes and she is left with nothing but the urge to drink it away every night. And to make things worse, her past comes back to haunt her. What is she to do when the FBI approaches her on the street with an ugly suspicion about her lover?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781663255617

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The color of pearls means no good.

White teeth. White passion.

White walls.

In the end, white means fraud, not gentleness. White brings anxiety after it makes you fall. If I could claw my nails into these white walls, the room would be unrecognizable.

All I want right now is something to distract me. Something that will make me not think about the shivering that is taking over all of my aching body.

Look in that room.

He’s nowhere to be found.

Do your job and look harder.

Ten seconds pass … then thirty. A minute flashes into twenty.

No sign of the kid, not even a lick of evidence.

No, that can’t be right. What am I supposed to tell his mother?

The truth—that her son may be dead.

I am drowning in my thoughts, drowning in my own memories. Why didn’t I look more? It was my job, and I failed. I wasn’t supposed to fail. What if he’s still out there? What if he’s not really—

You’re beautiful, you know that? My brain snaps back into reality, now toward the voice the words belong to. Luscious green eyes are gazing on my hazel ones, meeting them and clashing like passion in a hopeful world. His words form a slight smile on my flushed face.

Yeah, you remind me of that all the time, I say with lightness.

Well, someone has to. It’s the truth, he chuckles, and I continue to smile as he goes to grab my warm hand and give it a tight squeeze. Lenora, I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be all right. His voice is a soft melody that leans toward a whisper. He sets a gentle kiss on my hand as if I am a princess. To him that is the truth.

He always reminds me of how precious I am, as if I am an antique heirloom. He’s been reminding me for the past five years. It always makes me feel good hearing it from him. Sometimes I am afraid he is telling me this only to satisfy me, except he always proves his words are more than spaces of breath.

It’s just … I pause uncomfortably. We’re getting the results today, and I am nervous. excitement and fear creep up in my throat as a sad smile appears on his face. The smile is almost hidden by his perfect thin lips as his sharp cheekbones slightly drop.

But it doesn’t stop him from ducking down to plant a kiss on my sweaty forehead and placing his free hand on my stomach. I hear a loud knock on the door, which startles me. Our attention goes to the front of the room as the knob turns and the door moves to open. The doctor walks in. She looks so confident standing there with her white coat, and that makes me more nauseated. It almost feels like a mocking attempt when she pushes her gold curls behind her blushing ears. Dr. Bennett has been my doctor since the beginning, and I trust her with every cell in my body. She doesn’t speak a word until she sits in the chair.

First, she examines my face. I know she can tell I am nervous, and that does not allow the sickening feeling to disappear.

How are you doing, darling? Her soothing, friendly southern voice helps me calm down a little bit. But only a little.

I mean, of course I’m nervous; this is where we find out what we’re having—one of the important parts about the whole thing, right? I could hear the fear in my own voice, but she gave me a warm smile.

So I’m guessing you do want to know what the sex is, correct? Kevin and I both nod. We are getting closer by the second to figuring it out. Well … She pauses to open the beige folder that has a sticker on the tab with my name, Lenora Reed, on it. Congratulations, guys, you’re having a boy! As the news is spoken, the room fills with cheers and happiness. We are going to have a baby boy.

I have the perfect name, Kevin says as my ears perk up. Lukas. As I think of it, it makes me smile, makes me feel that the name is right. Nothing can be more perfect than the name.

Lukas Ashcroft. I love it.

CHAPTER 1

Three years later

Lukas! I call out. I am given nothing in return. I am not fazed. Instead I close the door, turning the silver knob. My eyes gaze around, taking in the overwhelming size of the house. I find it odd to have to focus on the quietness in the house. Kevin? I’m home! I shout once again … still nothing. But of course, I don’t do anything besides walk into the kitchen to prepare dinner. I don’t understand the reasoning behind my lack of suspicion; I figure they’re probably playing an innocent prank.

On the way, I hear something vibrate and rush to my bag, already knowing the sound came from my phone, and when I see the notification, everything changes. Lucy’s name pops up as soon as I turn it on, the name so vibrant that it messes with my vision.

You should probably be more cautious next time, Lenora. Wouldn’t want to lose more than you’re about to.

I don’t understand what the text means, but one thing I do know is that danger is soon to come—something I’m not prepared to face. This sudden anticipation sends a wave of shivers throughout the blood swimming in my chilly body. The air becomes a shivering chill, warning my skin and instincts.

I turn back around, making contact with a hard surface that will leave a bruise later. I am not focused on that at the moment; I am more curious about what is on the counter, facing me. It is a simple white envelope that has my name written in bold scratch. I don’t think twice before opening it. I assume it is just a letter from a friend, but I am wrong. Totally wrong.

Get ready for what’s going to happen

It won’t be pretty, but he will soon be gone

My eyes are filled with fear. I’m so overwhelmed with confusion that I can barely see through the clouds forming in my vision. It is hard to react to these signs when they are this random. It feels like a sick game—something to laugh about with the family during the holidays. However, this is not funny—not in the slightest.

I can’t help but think about my family and how I would react if they were ever hurt, which leads to the memories. I don’t understand where all these warnings are coming from, and I don’t know why either. I can’t find my child or my boyfriend even though his car is here, and on top of that I’m getting bombarded with sketchy letters. But it’s as if the universe hears my thoughts.

A loud scream echoes from the upstairs room. I know that scream; I know who it belongs to. I know it so well because every time I hear it, my mind goes down a dark hole.

My child is in trouble. I get that now. I dart up the stairs as fast as I can, dropping the letter on the way. I do not have to look to know that it flows in the air slowly, awkwardly, and the big letters are facing up to taunt me. I skip every other step, and I feel the rapid pace take over.

Kevin! I shout.

I hear mumbling, as if someone is trying to speak through duct tape. I forcefully push the door open using so much strength it slams, hitting the wall with an echo. I can’t believe what I am witnessing.

My parents are here, my mother holding my child in her arms, my father beside her. Lukas looks as if he’s been crying for hours, yet he has just started. And worst of all is the withered, tired brown chair. Kevin looks withered as well as he sits impatiently in it, his arms and legs zip-tied together. I can see the bruises and marks outlining his pale skin. He looks dehydrated, and he is a mess. Tape covers his mouth, as I suspected. He mumbles some more; I still can’t make out what he is saying.

To say I am shocked and frightful would be like arguing that grass has a green hue. It is obviously evident.

Why is he tied up? What did he do? Kevin is so innocent. What could he have possibly done to be in this position? I look at my parents, confusion mixing with disgust.

What … is going on? I ask. I feel disappointed, but I show anger and I definitely recognize it flowing through my body. I look from my parents’ eyes to Kevin’s worried red ones.

I am tired of time being wasted with useless silence. I stomp over to the chair to rip off the tape and set him free, but I am unsuccessful.

Do it and you both die, my father says, pulling a gun from his jacket.

My quivering eyes travel to the deep voice. These are the first words to come out of anyone’s mouth beside mine since I got here. I am disgusted by his threat. This isn’t like my father at all.

James Reed is a wonderful man—an excellent dad. He’s everyone’s best friend—the go-to when one needs advice. This is the same person who is active, whose cologne offers a welcoming scent, and who has never lied—until now, going against his word that he will always protect me.

Why are you doing this? What’s even going on? I ask again, my unstable tone weighing me down.

We’re taking Lukas. He’s living with us, my mother chimes in. I hate their lack of words. The way they say these things like everyday phrases makes my guts churn in my stomach.

Excuse me? You will not be taking our son anywhere. I am about ready to walk over to their faces, but there is still fright in me that is holding me down.

Yes we are. You see here … My father started pacing around, gun still in hand. I did not like his pacing. For the past four years, your mother and I have been warning you about having a child this early. You didn’t want to listen to us, so here you are.

For a second, I truly believe I have nothing to fuss about. It feels as if his threats have become soft. Too early? I’m not sixteen. I am a grown woman.

But again, this lasts only for a second. It is not him that scares me; it is the way he waves around that gun like a harmless object.

And where am I exactly? I was basically boiling at this point.

Lost. Stressed. I mean, you just got fired. And mind you, you are still very young to understand how to raise a child. Obviously, you’re not doing a very good job at it, or else we probably wouldn’t be here.

Like I’m going to believe your crap. We actually wouldn’t be here right now if you two weren’t such psychopaths! I practically yell.

We are just trying to take a load off your back sweetie, my mother says, as if sweet talk is going to make all of this better. She looks afraid. I know she is doing this only because she can never stand up to my father.

But something falters in her eyes. There is something that does not sit right with me. This does not feel real. This whole situation feels like a hoax, but this is especially so for her look.

She must be faking it. She’s playing an act.

Lukas is not a load that needs to be taken off. You know it yourself that Lukas is the best thing that’s ever happened to us. I take another good look at Kevin, trying not to get lost in those hopeful eyes. All they are doing is begging for help and to be set free. I know that’s all he wants, and I am determined to do everything I can to grant that wish. I look back at my father and then the gun in his hand. I run over to grab both of his arms. Another thing I know about my father is that he is never prepared. Someone could spook him a thousand times, and he could still be scared the same way. So I take a brave step to put his wrists together and then stomp on his foot with all my strength. Pain overtakes his body as he falls to the ground with a shout, dropping the gun. My mother just stands there in shock, and I don’t understand how she can do that. I know she is one to just stand around, but it does not make the scene any smoother.

Because it cannot be real.

I wish I didn’t have to hurt my dad in any way. He means everything to me, and he taught me so much throughout my life. Besides the things like how to walk and talk, he made me learn how to stand up for myself and to focus on my goals. He also taught me that no matter the situation, I must always sacrifice for family, just as they would do for me. And that’s all I’m trying to do here—to stand up for Kevin and let him go, to get my child back into my arms.

I dart to the back of the chair and start biting off the zip ties. I have nothing on me to get the ties off. I have no choice but to let the rough ridges dig into my gums and the corners of my lips. The grip is too strong for me, and my shaky fingers are of no help.

It’s okay, I got you. I’m going to get you out of this. I keep trying to comfort him, but I can’t even comfort myself.

With a final tug, his wrists are released from the ties. The first thing he does is rip off the tape from his chapped lips. I run and look at his face. The short ends of his chocolate hair are stuck firmly on his forehead by sweat the same way Lukas’s longer curls—the same color as his father’s—were stuck to his when I first ran in here.

You’re okay, I repeat, smiling.

As I am about to unzip the tie from his ankles, I hear my mom’s voice. I jerk my head around, seeing my dad up against the wall, observing his foot and my mom pointing the gun from the ground at me. My brain thinks for a split second. Oh, the trouble I am in.

Step away from him, she says. I almost want to laugh at her. Her hand is shaking, and if she doesn’t control it, the gun will fall. I don’t give up that easily though. I stay put. I said move!

And why should I? I shoot back.

Because … you’re ruining everything! You’re making this more difficult than it was anticipated to be. Her sudden yelling spooks me. It is odd, as I was hoping that she would reveal her true colors. I want her to prove that she is being heartless not because she is afraid of dad, but for some other reason. Ever since you told us you were pregnant, we wanted this baby! Your father and I knew you couldn’t do this, so we’ve been planning for years to take the baby once we decided it was time, and now’s the time. But you’re ruining it! We knew Kevin wasn’t obviously going to be easy to take care of, so we tied him up. I see a stream of sweat form on her forehead. Then we knocked him unconscious.

I am about to lose it. With the way the words roll off her tongue, as if she doesn’t even care or hesitate to speak her mind, I realize it’s gone too far. This is all too much.

You did what? I am about to walk up to her, but I feel a hand stop me. I turn to Kevin, who is shaking his head, already knowing it isn’t a smart idea. I look back at my mom, who is now pointing the gun at me, her less shaky finger on the trigger. I am trapped. Her actions are unpredictable. It is basically checkmate for me at this point. That doesn’t mean I won’t make a move though.

You know Kevin and I are great parents and you’re just too blind to see it! I would never be a crazy parent like you! I spat. You guys were supposed to support me and actually teach me adulthood, but you took that away from me! I don’t know what is going through your head, but all I can promise for Lukas is that I will never, ever turn out like you! I notice her finger moving back, and I know this is the end.

I see it rushing to me like a pearly white that engulfs me. My words leave my mouth without a thought. All I can do is yell—yell and not think. It is difficult to truly comprehend what is occurring. I don’t think about the effect this has on my body; my child, who continues to release a deafening wail; or Kevin, who must be at the peak of trauma.

But what I do think about is the simple fact that this is it for me. And as I prepare for it, I wish that if this means I’m done for, the least the universe can do for me is allow Kevin and Lukas to escape.

Lenora, no! Kevin cries. She has pulled the trigger. I can tell because the loud bang fills the walls of the room.

I hear more screaming from Lukas, and I think it will be the last noise I will ever hear. I think this is the last of me, that I will die, that my blood will stain these floors.

Something doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t feel dizzy, and I most certainly don’t feel as if I’ve been shot. I take a look at myself, and I seem fine, sweat being the only slick thing on my skin—not blood. I am unharmed. Yet Kevin is not.

He is lying on the ground and clenching his stomach where blood is flooding through his blue shirt. I fall to my knees, the tears already starting to prickle. My eyes are burning, the hair on my arms is standing on end, and my heart feels as if it has shattered.

"Kevin, Kevin please stay with me. Please. My salty tears fall down my cheek and onto his body. I feel the water stains still printed on my skin. Why did you do that? Why did you take the bullet?" My voice is cracking.

I did it because you have a child to raise. His voice turns raspy. "You have people to prove wrong. They said you couldn’t do it. And I did it because I love you."

I bawl when he reaches for my cheek, rubbing his thumb against it to clear away the teardrops, but it is actually replaced with a blood stain. His blood. Now … He coughs, his life ending slowly. Don’t worry about me. Go get our son back and be the mother you were destined to be. I want you to take really good care of him, to keep this house and all my money, to start your career again, and to find love again when I’m gone. His voice is low and deep.

But I can never stop loving you. I can’t love any other but you. I sniffle as I look deep into his eyes, knowing this is my last chance to examine them.

I think a lot about all we’ve been through and about our whole life together starting from the day we met.

Yes you can. I want you to—he coughs once more—I want you to start fresh, but please, whatever you do, don’t let Lukas forget about … me. And those are his final words before he shuts his eyes for the very last time.

On cue, my eyes open. Quickly. But I thought they already were open. At least it was all a dream—or a cruel nightmare.

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I sit up, moving at the speed of lightning. My head races. My palms glisten, and so does my forehead. I am in my bed, and when I look to my right, I see that Kevin is fast asleep, his back facing me. I want to scream, but I know that if I do, I will alert him. I thought he was dead.

I get out of my bed and I just stand there, staring at the muscular figure. How is he in my bed? How is he alive?

I back up slowly, then my back makes contact with the door. The noise scares me. Lukas soon comes to mind. I race out the bedroom door, up the stairs, then to the room. He is still there in his bed. He is awake, actually. Once he sees me, his eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

I have never felt so relieved as I do on seeing those eyes once more.

Mama, he slurs. I walk to his bed and lift him up. I push his dark curls to the side, kissing him on the forehead. It was just a dream, I think, but I still look at Lucas and say, I will never let anything happen to you.

We are supposed to cherish what we have—to love what is ours and what’s not ours. Nothing is permanent. Pain is only temporary. Other people know things we don’t, and we never know what we have until it’s taken away from us.

CHAPTER 2

I’m sorry ma’am, we had no luck. My partner says.

You’re saying you run on luck?

No ma’am, what he’s saying is that we ran through all the investigations, we followed what you said, we looked at all locations listed and more, and we’re not finding anything, I explained.

Impossible. You are telling me you have no clue where my son could be?

Yes. Whoever is involved is really good at covering up their tracks.

Or maybe you guys just suck at your job! And with that the door slams right in our faces and we found ourselves pouting around the sidewalk.

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I watch as the waves crash together. The water comes closer to me, then slowly moves farther away, like most things given to me.

My mind fills up with peace. My eyes follow a bird that flies by quickly. I enjoy my view of the blue and white colors around. I dig my feet under the whitish yellow sand, letting the substance fill the gaps between my toes. And I stand there enjoying the ocean view. I am ignoring the kids splashing and swimming in the distance.

I am greeted by a familiar soft voice. Hey there. I turn around, my eyes meeting with Kevin’s. My heart warms on seeing his face, and I feel the same butterflies I did all those years ago. He comes to me and gives me a nice, firm peck on the lips—something I look forward to every time I see him. Is Lukas stressing you out? He is laughing, his lids shutting tightly, as they do. It is a habit of his. He is laughing with no cares.

I am not.

No, I whisper. He moves closer to me and wraps his arm around my waist to comfort me, which most definitely works. It’s my interview; they rejected me.

These words feel like a rotten aftertaste at this point. As I say them, my thoughts wander once again.

The nightmare made it seem I was jobless—a lost cause. I can’t shake the fact that it seemed to mean something very dangerous.

Are you serious? All I can do is shake my head; I can’t really speak or react. It’s as if the emotion in my body just drained out. So I am determined to put on the famous fake face—the one used to express how everything’s okay even though it’s definitely not okay. But that is the thing about Kevin; I don’t have to fake anything around him. I don’t understand; you’ve gone through all these job interviews and can’t find anything?

I don’t know what to do. I can’t work in this place anymore. I just can’t, I say, rubbing the throbbing flesh of my temples. Whatever peace I was experiencing had washed away with the current.

I know, but what I also know is that you’ll get over this and soon you’ll find the perfect place for you. I cringe from his cheesiness. Kevin is the definition of cheesy, and it makes my skin crawl. But I would never ask for him to act any other way.

Easy for you to say; you’re a well-known professional boxer, I mock as he chuckles.

You’ve just got to believe in yourself the same way I believe in you. You are one of the most talented detectives I know. He gives me a grin. Maybe he is right, or maybe he isn’t. Some people are unlucky in love; maybe I’m unlucky in work.

I work in a small firm as a detective and have been there since I graduated college. People already think I am unlucky for taking a low position when I could be working side by side with the higher-ups given my talent. The truth is that I know that, but it was my choice to start somewhere small. I have not regretted it until now. I figured I would be given more chances to explore, being that it’s smaller, and that is true. But it wasn’t until the small mistake that ruined my life that my luck ran slim. All the offices that wanted me from the start now wish they never heard my name at all. But they do. Everyone does, and that’s what disappoints them more.

No one expected the day when the flawless Lenora Reed would make the unfortunate slip.

I move closer toward him and wrap my arm around his back. I feel his back muscles along the way and let my overthinking head fall against his chest. Everything about him is cozy.

Honestly, I thought you were going to talk about why you woke up in the middle of the night. Fear causes my eyes to leak. My body goes rigid against his. If not for how far my head is buried in his chest, more would be revealed by my tense muscles.

He knows. He isn’t supposed to know.

What do you mean? I swallow. Sweat is welling up, and my stomach churns. I do not want him to know. The dream isn’t going to be taken easily. He is going to make a big deal about it, and I will never hear the end of it, and all I want is to forget.

Forget the blood, the screaming, the hurt.

As if I didn’t feel the empty space by me. Where were you? What happened? This is exactly what I was worried about. I don’t want to play the secret game; I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to frighten him either. There is no win-win situation here.

Nothing. I clench my teeth.

You’re lying.

Not lying. I mutter. He turns his head my way, but I do not look up. I feel his eyes burning on my skin. I feel trapped. All I hear is a hum of defeat. That it’s? Just a simple hum? I don’t want more, but I expected more.

You know you can trust me.

I spoke to soon.

You can tell me anything.

I know. I just had to use the bathroom, and then I went to check on Lukas; that’s all. I am trying to get around the aggravation forming in my voice because I don’t want to sound that way, especially if I’m trying to lie.

After a while, I know I can’t tuck away in his shirt forever. I lean closer, trying to find the comfort again while our lips are only inches apart. I move my other hand to his cheek. To me, this is paradise. I feel so lucky every time I get to kiss him. I feel a smile appear on his lips in the kiss, and when he sadly pulls away, his smile grows bigger, a laugh following after. I look around, confused. I notice him eyeing my dress, so I follow his eyes, still confused. There is nothing wrong with my clothes.

What’s so funny? I fake a chuckle. His laughter does not leave my ears until after a while, at which point he calms down. I am then left hearing more of the waves than him.

The dress. He pauses to smile, this time not showing his pearly teeth. His smile always makes me weak to my knees. I remember this dress. He grabs the hem of it with his pale hands.

My dress slightly lifts up, but not so much as to cause attention to the innocent bystanders. He lets out a hushed chuckle as I still look at him with uncertainty. He rubs his thumb across the smooth texture of the dress, still maintaining his grin. In high school you always had oversize shirts in your drawers. Sam asked you to bring one because he ruined his, and so you brought him a dress instead. He laughs again, and I laugh along, knowing how this story ends. It was this dress, and he had to wear it because he would get suspended if he was walking around the hallways with no shirt on. We laugh hysterically.

The memory feels as though it happened yesterday. The cruel prank I pulled was the highlight of my day. Sam was another high school friend of ours. He was easygoing, an open-minded type of guy who I knew would take it for what it was—a funny joke between friends.

And then remember during class when Mr. T. pulled him aside and asked him if he was going through a ‘phase’? More laughter fills the air around us. It feels so good to stand and reminisce. All my worries seem to drift off again.

After a while, we know that just standing around will be no fun, so we start walking along the sand, hand in hand. We start talking about our days—mostly his, since my day wasn’t as eventful.

So we leave in a week? I ask softly.

We are all settled for Washington, DC! Kevin exclaims.

That means more intense workouts, huh?

When does it not? he says, half disappointed and half sarcastic.

That’s true. I laugh.

I let my mind wander off until I feel a tight squeeze around my hand, and I look at Kevin and notice he is wincing in some sort of pain. I go to look for the source of the pain, but I see nothing—that is until he lifts his foot to also look for the object.

What is it? I ask.

Not sure. He is examining his foot and what is attached sticks out like a sore thumb. He goes to take it off of his sandy foot, dusting off the object and then holding it out so I, too, can take a look. It is shiny, making it easy to see, and green—a very dark green, like an emerald.

It’s so—

Beautiful, I say, completing his words almost breathlessly. I know he is gazing into my eyes when I comment on the ring, but I don’t look back at him, my eyes staying glued to the object.

It’s true that focusing on something for so long can show you something new and possibly unexpected about it. That is why I can’t help but notice how much it looks like an engagement ring. We examine it a little more before he stuffs it into his pocket.

You can’t just take it; maybe someone is trying to look for it, I say harshly.

Well, they should be more careful of their things, he shoots back.

But that’s someone’s ring; it could have a special meaning to it and come back to find it soon.

He brings out the ring again as his eyebrows rise. Or maybe not? Look at the engraving. He hands the ring to me so I can observe it.

I start reading out loud. ‘I love you—1931.’ I gasp. My expression says it all. This ring is old. Really old.

Exactly, Kevin says, confirming my thoughts.

That doesn’t mean we can just take it—especially a piece like this. Nothing I said was stopping him from placing the ring in his pocket once again.

Come on, we’re wasting time.

CHAPTER 3

No, this isn’t right, Irritation is pumping in my blood. No, no, no! I slam the folder on the table, and my hands find their way to becoming tangled in my hair.

Mommy, what’s wrong? Lucas asks, his whiny voice echoing through my ears. I look down at him. If it weren’t for the stress boiling throughout my blood, I would love nothing more than to stare at the tiny figure next to me and adore his features for hours: the tan skin that matches mine; his crooked nose, a mirror image of his father’s; full lips; sharp cheekbones.

Yeah, Mommy, what’s wrong? Kevin chimes in, wearing a smirk that only makes the situation worse. Kevin is childish. He has always had that kid-like nature, but it intensified when Lukas was born.

Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. Why don’t you go play in your room while I talk to Dad. I smile, watching him waddle away out of sight. Kevin walks closer to me near the island in the kitchen, and I go back to my cranky state. I am this close to losing my head if I don’t get more intel on this case. I feel a pair of arms wrap around my neck, and I receive a gentle kiss on my head. Kevin is not one to respond to stress by words so quickly. He prefers peace over reaction. It’s what makes his presence so comforting.

I think you need to take a break and allow your mind to breathe, he says, his hushed voice tickling my ear. However, I am not the Zen person in this family. It is natural for me to be irritated with his calm state while I feel like a chicken with its head chopped off.

No can do; I need to keep working. He closes my laptop anyway and takes a seat right next to mine. I was busy. why did you do that?

Because you need a break.

Shouldn’t you be at training? I ask him, annoyed.

I’m about to leave. Shouldn’t you be packing, though? I understand you need to figure out who poisoned this poor man, but we’re leaving in a few days and you haven’t even pulled out your suitcase.

Correction: I did pull it out; I just haven’t put anything in it. He cocks his head to the side, giving me a look. All right I’ll start when you leave. I sigh.

We both stand up. Kevin starts walking toward the door, me following behind him. He gives me a kiss as he opens the door.

Wow, I have such good timing. The familiar voice startles me. I look on the other side to see Lucy. Leaving already, Kevin?

I’ve got to head to the gym if I want to win, he giggles. As he steps out the door, he manages to tilt his head my way and mouth I love you before stepping out of my view. The gesture causes my organs to flutter.

I hear a light giggle from the girl, causing my attention to shift to my closest friend at the door. You are such a sucker. She shakes her head. I take her mocking lightly, allowing her in with only a scoff. So a little birdie told me you haven’t started packing, she says with a smirk. Of course. Leave it to Kevin to tell the whole world about my procrastination.

We can focus on that later. What I want to know is how your vacation with Marco was, I squeal.

"Dios Mio, it was amazing and so romantic. We climbed mountains and went scuba diving. It was everything you could wish for in a week. She smiles. I love seeing that smile on her face. It makes me feel at ease to know she is being treated right. Want to see the scar I got from slipping off a rock?"

A what! I shout. So much for being at ease. Now I feel no ease at all. My heart is racing knowing that she was hurt.

It’s not even that bad. She rolls up her sleeve, revealing a nasty scar on her that still looks fresh with blood, purple and blue surrounding the red skin. It looks painful. We were at the bottom, and when I misplaced my foot, I slipped, and my wrist scratched against a rock.

You’re lucky you’re a tough one, I say as she laughs. I roll my eyes and walk toward my room, hearing little footsteps run across the wooden floor and approach us.

Titi Lulu! Lukas cheers. While Lucy is not my blood sister, she has always been one of my closest friends since childhood and has felt like a sister to me.

Hey there, little fella. I watch as my best friend picks up Lukas, pushing his brown curly hair out of the way with such gracefulness. I missed you.

I missed you too, he says in his cute little voice.

Maybe you can help me pick some outfits for Mommy; what do you think? Lukas starts clapping, which fills the room loudly. Lucy sets Lucas down on my bed and goes straight to my closet, where I am frantically pacing. So tell me, how come Kevin hasn’t proposed yet? It’s been like, what … seven years or so?

Eight years, and I don’t know; maybe he’s just not ready to get married, I say emotionlessly. I mean, we’re both so busy with our careers that maybe it’s best to wait a little bit.

That’s bull— I look at her dead in the eyes as she looks at Lukas. Sorry, I mean that it doesn’t matter. What is he waiting for, his great-grandmother to come back from the dead? she says sarcastically. I laugh at her humorous nature. It is kind of like a code. Lucy says something sarcastic, and I laugh because that’s the way Lucy is. It has become a natural thing.

Like I said, I don’t know; I haven’t really brought up the marriage topic around him. It has come across my mind a few times. I mean, we’ve already built such a firm relationship. I always wonder what he could be waiting for. I always go with that excuse—that we’re too busy.

Well, you should. Anyway, Lukas, I need your opinion, Lukas’s ears perk up at the sound of his needed assistance. Which one do you think looks prettier: this shirt—she pulls up a thin black turtleneck that Lucas observes, printing the vision in his head—or … this one? She then shows a blue button-up shirt.

Lukas thinks hard on which to pick, one hand on his chin, trying to imitate an excellent yet hysterical thinking face. The black one.

"Perfecto! she shouts. I think so too." she sends Lucas a wink as she folds the shirt, putting it neatly in the suitcase.

As she continues to do that, I stand there and just think. It has nothing to do with my packing at all. If I don’t figure out who poisoned Mr. Hans, then my career will be closer to over than before. His wife was out of town along with his son; it was only him, his daughter-who I heard was already ruled out as innocent- and his housemaid left alone in the mansion. He went out to pick up some files for his company’s renovation, leaving his maid there by herself. He was found dead at the house. Which can only mean one thing.

Earth to Lenora. I notice a hand waving in my face. What’s on your mind? Lucy asks.

Um … I, I need to make a phone call, I rush to the dining table, adrenaline kicking in. I sit down and look through my box, trying to recall where I last saw the envelope. After some searching, my eyes land right on the bright orange packet, and I snatch it into my hands, the crinkling becoming instantly noticeable. I grab the phone, dialing the number that belongs to the lab.

Hello, I hear a deep voice say over the phone.

Hi, this is Lenora Reed, assigned detective to Mr. Han’s case. I need some fingerprints tested. I look up at Lucy, who at some point followed behind me.

"¿Que paso?" she whispers.

I think I know who is responsible for Mr. Han’s murder.

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I hear the jingling of keys near the door as the knob turns and the door opens. I am sitting at the table, watching Kevin take off his shoes and walk my way. He places a kiss on my forehead, the routine so embedded in our brains, as he walks into the kitchen.

So how was practice? I ask in my singsong tone.

It was really good; worked myself to the max. I’m so tired. He seems as out of breath as he says he is.

I grin. Well, at least you got a lot done.

Yeah, I did. I want to know if you did as well? I know what he means. He only wants to make sure I am done packing. I laugh and tell him that I did. I also tell him that I might have a lead on my case. I am more enthusiastic saying it aloud. As usual, he is excited for me. He crosses his fingers, hoping that this is what will impress my boss and give me a good chance of saving my career.

But what I also would like to know is why you’re in workout clothes. He points at my apparel, confused.

I’m actually going on a run and will be back later, I explain as I pick up the folder I have just found. I invite Kevin to come with me, but his excuse is that he is too tired, which I understand. I pack all my work up and walk out the door, beginning on my trail.

I run down the street of the neighborhood, getting hellos from all sorts of friendly neighbors. My pace is a light jog as I embrace the atmosphere. The breeze glides across my neck. Nature is singing, with birds and butterflies flitting around.

I don’t have to think about my family or my friends or the fact I might get fired. I don’t have to think about what my parents may be doing at the moment, what Lucy is saying in her sweet Spanish accent, or if I’m raising Lucas in the right way. I don’t have to remember that nightmare: the gun, the chair, the one in the chair, the zip ties, the blood, the tears.

But I do anyway. It all comes back at once. But it can also go away at once, just not as easily. The mix of emotions can’t be controlled. But I try my hardest. Every time they come up, I say to myself, stop, don’t clutter your mind.

As I keep jogging, I feel a hard shoulder knock into me, with a sharp hiss following after.

Hey, watch where you’re going next time, the guy says, his deep voice putting me to shame. He’s one of the neighbors around here. I recognize him but I barely know anything about him. Only that people call him Fineran.

I’m sorry; I wasn’t— I say, wanting to explain myself and hopefully make him feel better, but he obviously doesn’t care, judging by the fact that he keeps walking while speaking on his phone. And now that I have seen firsthand how much my feelings are distracting me, I decide that instead of fearing the possibility of losing my job, I will try to focus on saving it. When I approached the lab that is not far from my house at all, my eyes light up, and somehow I feel safe. It feels as if my progress is getting me somewhere. I am hopeful that I can save this case and put an end to it.

I walk into the building, collecting myself as I approach the quiet desk. The lady greets me with a warm smile that seems to offer me hope.

Hi, I just need these fingerprints tested regarding Mr. Han’s case, I say. My nerves are kicking in as I hand over the envelope, feeling at