My Undercover Life | ✓

Chapter 1

"The bodies of teenage girls, Alyce and Alyssa Bryant were discovered downtown in Woodway after midnight, last Friday. By the time the police were called, witnesses claimed they heard screaming and a suspicious young man fleeing the scene. Friends and family members of the victims said that both girls were loved by everyone in their local high school, Monroe High and that justice will be brought to them. At this time, the DA is not talking about possible suspects and will only say that this case is under invest—"

"Any news?" said Mom, drowning out the reporter on Fox 5. She eyed the TV and grabbed the seat next to me on the couch. Drinking her usual morning tea, she looked at me.

I shook my head. "They got nothing."

She stopped drinking her tea, putting it down on the coffee table. "They still don't have any leads?"

"They said they're not talking about it. Whatever that means."

She chewed on her lips. "That's strange . . ." she muttered under her breath, taking another sip of her drink. Her nose scrunched up, before her brows dripped down. Dropping the cup back down, her eyes widened, uttering a small gasp.

I shot up in alarm. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said a little bit too quickly. I quirked an eyebrow at her. She was lying big time, but I wasn't going to call her out on it. She was my mother after all. "I just remember Megan has to be in school in half an hour," she said suddenly, looking down at her golden wristwatch. "Do me a favor and go get her?"

"Well," I began, "since you asked nicely, sure."

She stood up from her seat, before patting my shoulder. "Thank you, sweetie."

"No problem," I said, as I ran towards the stairs. "I'll be down with Megan soon!"

"I wouldn't expect anything less from my daughter!"

Going past my older sister's room, I came to a halt at Megan's room. I gave the white door a soft knock, before I twisted the doorknob, walking right in.

I jumped over her drumsticks and her Basset clarinet case, and made sure I didn't trip over her piles of dirty laundry like I did yesterday morning. She all but had a field day when she found me spread out on the floor, clutching my knees in agony.

And guess what? The dang girl didn't even help me out afterwards! All she did was worry if I had broken any of her precious instruments. Please, like I would try.

The girl had at least fifteen different kinds of instruments placed all over her room, with multiple awards showcasing her gifted talent from the ages of nine and up. Some say that Megan Reed was a pure genius in the musical industry, and of course, being her best friend and all, I had to agree with them. I mean, do you know anyone that could play any instrument by just hearing someone else play it once? No? I don't think so.

Just as I was about to reach her bed, my leg caught on something before I fell face-first on the floor, hissing in pain. Rubbing my sore head, I shot daggers at Megan's back laying on her comfortable queen-sized bed. Even though she couldn't see me, I knew she could feel me burning holes into her spine.

"Megan! Why can't you just clean up your room for once?"

I heard her soft chuckling, as she finally pulled her head up from underneath her blanket. She peered down at me, her dirty blonde hair in a wild mess. "You know I can't do that."

"Why not? Do you enjoy watching me injure myself every time I come into your room?"

She tapped her chin. "Well—it is highly amusing."