Caroline

iii

A knock on the door caused Caroline to jump awake. She looked around the cell, confused. Where was she?

"Caroline," called a gruff voice, "make sure you're decent. You have a visitor."

Who did this voice belong to? Caroline remembered what her mother told her- "Baby, if you is ever in a sit-e-ation where you get taken by a bad man, do not put up a fight. You do whateva he say, yeah?" She looked down at her body, shocked at the sight of the orange jumpsuit. Why couldn't she remember anything?

The door opened, revealing an attractive man in a police uniform. The man held a pair of handcuffs out in front of him and made an action with his left hand, telling her to turn around. As she got out of bed and did as she was told, her arms were pulled behind her back and the handcuffs were placed around her wrists. She did nothing but stare at the floor.

Caroline was pushed out of the room and into a hallway that was lined with any cells that held young women.  She made eye contact with a woman who had a smirk on her face and a tattoo on her temples. Caroline shivered. She never was a fan of tattoos. She was led down the hallway and to another door, which was opened by a different man. On the opposite side of the door, there was a cage-like room in the middle of the room that was surrounded by men in police uniforms. 

The attractive male who had gotten her out of her room opened a gate-like door and slid it open, leading Caroline to a table that sat in the middle of the cage. He un-cuffed her hands from behind her back and cuffed them to the table. Caroline sat there, not saying a word. Just like how her mama taught her.

As one door closed, another one opened to reveal a pretty blonde woman. The woman wore a light blue, long-sleeved shirt, dark wash jeans, and brown riding boots. She carried two white cups with lids. She sat down at the table across from Caroline and slid one cup towards her.

"Good morning," the woman smiled. She looked familiar.

"Good morning," Caroline replied, hesitant. 

She watched as the woman took a sip of her drink before taking her own in her hands. She leaned forward, lifting her hands so the lid could meet her lips. She sighed as the familiar taste of hot chocolate hit her tongue. That's when it clicked.

"You're Alexandria, right?" Caroline asked.

"Yes," the woman replied, stating it as a question. Did she not remember them meeting them yesterday?

"Tiffany used to make this hot chocolate," she sighed, remembering her best friend. "It's a shame she passed away."

Alexandria raised an eyebrow at the girl before her. For sure, she knew that Tiffany had not "passed away", but was, in fact, murdered. By her. Alexandria set her cocoa aside and laced her fingers together, leaning on the table.

"Okay," she stated. "Let's not beat around the bush. You promised that you'd confess to a murder. Let's just get this over with."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Caroline stated honestly. 

"Cut the bullshit," Alexandria sighed. "I don't want to play games."

Caroline gasped. How could she think she was lying? 

"I'm not playing any games!" she exclaimed, tears threatening to escape. "I woke up this morning in a cell without my family. Where's Dimitri? Where's Noah? Why am I not home?"

The blonde woman looked at Caroline with curious eyes. She never expected Caroline to cry. Murderers don't cry.

"Caroline," Alexandria whispered, placing a hand on Caroline's.

"My name isn't Caroline!" she shouted, tears shed. "You're the second person who's called me that. My name is Carrie, okay? C-a-r-r-i-e. It says so on my birth certificate. Check for yourself."

The officer was shocked. What the hell was happening? Was she being serious? She watched as "Carrie" cried, her shoulders shaking with each sob. Alexandria began to feel uncomfortable with this crying woman in front of her.

"Listen, Carrie," Alexandria said, "I don't know what's going on inside of that brain of yours, but your name is Caroline Elisabeth DeRitter. You've murdered-"

"I've murdered no one," Carrie whispered. "I don't know why you keep insisting that I'm a murderer."

"It's because you are a murderer, Carrie," Alexandria shook her head, opening up the manila folders. "Do you see these photos? These are from the crime scences that you confessed to. You murdered six women: Judith LeBlanc, Charlene Dardar, Tiffany Chaisson, Sam Hall, Sylvia and Raina Anderson. You ripped open their chests and took out their hearts. Are you telling me that you don't remember any of this?"

Carrie shook her head, a strand of her hair getting caught on her chapped lips. Another tear slid down her cheek as she looked at the photos.

"Why can't I just go home?"