Secrets And Lies [Completed]

32. flashing lights

"What are these reporters doing here?" Himanshu asked, as he struggled to keep the car moving due to the crowd.

"Someone must've given them a tip off about us being here." I responded, blocking my sight with my hand to avoid the flickering flashes of the cameras.

"Should we go out?" Himanshu asked as he parked the car somehow.

"Well we have to. We can't sit here all night." Zoya replied, pulling on the door handle, before getting out.

"Zoya-"

Before I could say any further, Zoya was already on her way to the diner, the reporters flocking around her, clicking pictures as they followed her like aimless dogs.

Having no other choice, Himanshu and I got out of the car as well. Some of the reporters ran back towards us, after realising that Zoya wasn't going to give them any content. I stumbled slightly on my feet as I walked towards the diner, my head straight and my hand raised above my eye. Himanshu walked close to me, one of hands softly resting on my back, providing me some sort of a reassurance.

'Miss D'Rosario, is it true that there has been another murder in town?'

'Is it true that you were one of the witnesses, Ms. D'Rosario?'

'Ms. D'Rosario, what do you have to say about the murder spree that has started in Delmore?'

'Don't you think it's too much of a coincidence that the murders only started ever since you came to town for your reunion?'

'Ms. D'Rosario, can we have a statement about the recent murders?'

'Ms. D'Rosario!'

'Ms. D'Rosario!'

'Ms. D'Rosario!'

For several crucifying minutes, I was transported back in time. To when I was nine years old. After my life altering event in the small suburb of Kerela, I had spent days and months in the custody of the police, until they had been able to contact Jennifer and verify her as a distant relative. And for the first few weeks after the incident, reporters had been flocking the station everyday, just to get a statement from me, something that could add to the juicy gossip that they were already brewing in town. They needed me to slip up so that they could crucify me and nail me to the ground, declaring me a sociopath.

A sociopath at nine,
who killed her own mother.

What a great headline for town gossip.

One of those days, they had cornered me as I was walking to a nearby shop to buy a chocolate with a female constable. They had asked me questions, half of which nine year old me didn't understand at all. They had asked me whether the police was protecting me from going to juvenile detention. They had asked me if I had really killed my own mother. And that's when I had started to cry.

As a kid, wasn't everything that easy?

If you didn't like something, you could just openly cry. Out loud. No one would tell you to stop, to compose yourself, to be a fucking adult. You could just scream, howl, cry out loud without having any second thoughts in mind.

But then you grew up and everything changed.

You could no longer cry out loud and not have people tell you to fucking compose yourself or not create a scene. All those tears had thus, dried up and now, there was nothing left to let out.

Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I simply kept walking, keeping my composure. I couldn't slip up. I couldn't be vulnerable in front of these people. Because then they'd judge my actions and make assumptions, and only I knew how cruel those assumptions could be.

'Ms. D'Rosario, are you hiding something from the police? Is that why they've still kept on the top of their suspect list?' One of the reporters asked while another mumbled, 'Despite being victims to the same crime, how can you let others be subjected to that, Ms. D'Rosario?'

I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep the tears forming in the back of my eye in their place. I guess Himanshu could sense my state as I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder slightly.

I looked back at him. He gave me a simple nod.

As we reached the entrance of the diner, I almost breathed a sigh of relief when I heard someone say from behind,

'Are you being targeted by someone, Veronica?'

My brows knitted in their place as I slowly moved my head to look back. All the reporters as well as Himanshu did the same.

A lone guy, stood at the very end of the line of the reporters, round glasses perched on top of the brim of his nose. He had a brown jacket on with khaki cargo pants and he looked around his early twenties.

It took me a few minutes before I realised that I was looking at a familiar face.

He gave a short sighted smile. I blinked.

"Zayn?"

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new character, who dis?

do we suspect or do we love?
guess we'll find out soon!

till then, make sure to vote, comment and share the book as much as possible!