The Memory Trap by Bliss Doubleu

Author:Bliss Doubleu [DoubleU, Bliss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

My stomach twisted into a Gordian knot as Detective Waters flung open the creaking double doors. Next to me, Jacob perched nervously on a tattered ottoman, his gaze flitting like a cornered mouse. Dust motes danced in the shaft of afternoon sunlight that speared through the room, highlighting the cobwebs woven between the shelves and the ancient parchments slumbering in their leather tombs.

The detective's booming voice shattered the stillness. "You’ve caught yourselves in a pickle, haven't you?" His words bounced off the decaying walls, tinged with a sardonic amusement that did little to ease the prickling unease creeping up my spine.

Jacob, ever the eager beaver, blurted out something I least expected. "There's a document," he blurted out, his voice cracking. "In her drawer. About Miss Newman."

Miss Newman's name hung in the air, heavy with unspoken secrets and whispered scandals.

Waters, all gruff efficiency, demanded to see it, but I bristled.

"Client confidentiality, Detective. Until you show me a warrant, that document stays put."

Client confidentiality wasn't a whim; it was a wall I wouldn't let him breach without a battering ram called a warrant. My voice, sharp as a shard of glass, clashed with his booming baritone, the battle lines drawn in the dwindling light.

The accusation stayed heavy in the air, suffocating like a too-tight collar. Jacob's words, sharp and laced with suspicion, were needles pricking my skin, each one drawing a fresh bead of anger. "Murderer," he'd called me. Murderer. The word echoed in my skull, bouncing off the walls of my sanity and threatening to shatter it entirely.

My chest tightened, squeezing the air from my lungs. My vision blurred; the edges of the room were swimming, and the familiar furniture was morphing into grotesque shapes. My hands, usually steady, clenched into fists, and my nails dug into my palms, drawing tiny crescents of blood.

Heat crawled up my neck, flooding my face, and I tasted bile at the back of my throat. Was this the face of a murderer? This contorted mask of rage and fear? My reflection, if I dared to look, would be a stranger, a monster conjured by Jacob's poisonous words.

But beneath the anger, a different emotion churned—a bitter, icy pool threatening to spill over. Frustration. Raw, undiluted frustration at the injustice of it all. The patient file, Christie Newman, contained the convenient puzzle pieces Jacob had twisted into a damning accusation. He hadn't even bothered to ask for my explanation—to see the truth behind the cold, clinical facts.

My voice, when it finally emerged, was a strangled rasp. "You think I'm a murderer? Jacob, you know me. You know I couldn’t do something like that." The words were hollow, lost in the hurricane of emotions swirling within me.

But Jacob, whose eyes narrowed, remained unmoved. "The file, Emily. Why was it in your drawer? How did you know about Christie Newman?" His voice, devoid of its usual warmth, was a cold blade slicing through my already frayed nerves.

I wanted to scream and lash out at the unfairness of it all.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.