Murder Mystery - H.S

56

" Hi Juli, how are you feeling today? Ready to go home?" He asks in a soft, heart warming whisper."

"What's the date?" I asked instead, the words barely escaping my trembling lips.

"February 13," Harry whispered back, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken sorrows. His eyes met mine, the vibrant green dulled by shadows of pain and uncertainty, like a forest shrouded in darkness. I remember the last time I stared into his eyes, before the kidnapping. How utterly in love I was. How clueless I was to his cruel lie.

Was our love story based on a lie?

"What?" I gasped, my heart skipping a beat. "February 13..." I repeat not being able to process what he was saying. February 13. I've been gone for almost two month. When was I saved? When did I come to the hospital? How did they find me?

"Your birthday passed." The realization hit me like a wave crashing against the shore, flooding my senses with a mixture of disbelief and despair.
Harry nodded solemnly, a single tear glistening in the corner of his eye. My breath caught in my throat as I struggled to comprehend the passage of time.

How did time pass so quickly. I thought it was just a week.

I shake my head, not wanting to believe his words. He's not telling the truth. He's a liar. Lies. It's not possible. Liar.

" I don't believe you." I gritted out. "I've been away for almost two months," I murmured, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Was I held captive all that time? When was I rescued?" I couldn't stop the question, hurting deep cries leaving my chest, but he didn't answer any. Is this how it feels to be ignored?

Is this my karma in life? To suffer and never be happy.

My voice cracked with emotion as I turned to him, desperation etched into every line of my face. "Don't ignore me. Answer my questions. It's the least you can do."

" I'm not lying Juliet." He blew out a heavy breath. " I found you on February 1st and you've been in the hospital ever since." February first. His birthday. He spent his birthday finding me.

I swallowed, not knowing what to say. "Can you... can you take me home?" I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please. I need to go home." And with that, the weight of my shattered reality came crashing down around me.

"Of course. Can I help you change?" Harry asked softly, his voice carrying a hint of concern as his green eyes stared at me. Harry was trying but I didn't let him in. I shook my head, unable to meet his gaze, the weight of shame and anguish pressing down on me.

He can't see my body. Harry couldn't see me like this. I was ugly. I am ugly. My skin was bruised, and my skin was marked with things from what Vinvent did to me. His voice stayed in the back of my head, reminding me of all those awful words he told me. When he called me names and commented about my body—a body I once felt comfortable in because the man in front of me made me believe I was fucking gold—

"Please... turn around," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own ragged breathing. Harry hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine like he didn't believe I was asking that. But how would I ever let him see my body again? It will never be the same.

I bit down hard on my lip to stifle a sob as I peeled off the robe, letting it slip my shoulders and down on the floor. Each movement sends a jolt of pain coursing through my body. Harry's head tilted up, his expression pained, as my silent cries filled the room, mingling with the heavy silence like a haunting melody of despair.