The shadow watching

Chapter four

“Annabelle?”

The voice sounded far away.

“Annabelle, can you hear me?”

I opened my eyes.

There were people everywhere.

Police officers.

Neighbors.

Mia's landlord.

Two paramedics.

And the detective from the hospital.

Daniel Hayes.

He was standing near the doorway, staring directly at me.

For a moment, I couldn't understand what was happening.

Then I looked down.

Blood.

My clothes were stained.

My hands were trembling.

And Mia was lying on the floor.

My breath caught.

“Mia…”

I tried to get up.

A police officer immediately grabbed my arm.

“Don't move.”

“Let me go!”

“Stay where you are.”

“She's my friend!”

The room was spinning.

“Help her!”

One of the paramedics knelt beside Mia.

They checked her.

Then the paramedic slowly shook his head.

I stared at him.

“No.”

He looked at me with pity.

“I'm sorry.”

“No.”

My voice broke.

“No, she's not—”

I tried to crawl toward her again.

The officer held me back.

“Annabelle, you need to stay still.”

“She's alive.”

Nobody answered.

“She has to be alive.”

The words came out faster.

“She was talking to me. We were talking. She was—”

I stopped.

My mind went blank.

The last thing I remembered was Mia standing in front of me.

Then darkness.

Then waking up.

And the knife.

My eyes moved toward the kitchen.

The knife was still on the floor.

One of the officers picked it up carefully.

“Bag that.”

“Yes, sir.”

I stared at it.

“That isn't mine.”

The officer looked at me.

“It was in your hand.”

I shook my head.

“I don't remember.”

“You don't remember holding it?”

“No.”

“You don't remember stabbing her?”

“I didn't stab her!”

The room went silent.

Someone whispered from behind me.

“She did it.”

I turned.

An elderly woman was standing near the entrance.

Mrs. Collins.

She lived across the hall from Mia.

She was staring at me like I was something dangerous.

“I told my husband,” she said quietly. “That girl brings trouble wherever she goes.”

“Mrs. Collins,” the landlord warned.

“No. Look at her.”

She pointed at me.

“She's covered in blood.”

“I didn't do it.”

Mrs. Collins shook her head.

“That's what a guilty person would say.”

My chest tightened.

More people gathered around the doorway.

Some were whispering.

Some were staring.

One man pulled out his phone.

“Are you recording me?”

He quickly lowered it.

“No.”

“You were.”

“I wasn't.”

“Everyone leave the room,” Daniel said.

Nobody moved.

He raised his voice.

“I said everyone leave.”

Slowly, people began moving away.

But their whispers followed them.

“She was always strange.”

“Didn't someone else die around her?”

“Her family too, right?”

“I heard she has a history.”

“She probably snapped.”

I closed my eyes.

They were doing it again.

The same thing they had done years ago.

Taking every terrible thing that had happened around me and turning it into evidence against me.

Daniel approached.

“Annabelle.”

I opened my eyes.

“Yes?”

“I need you to answer some questions.”

“I already told you. I didn't kill her.”

“I heard you.”

“Then believe me.”

“I didn't say I believed you.”

My heart sank.

He crouched slightly so we were at eye level.

“When was the last time you saw Mia alive?”

I swallowed.

“Tonight.”

“What time?”

“I don't know.”

“Approximately.”

“Maybe eleven.”

“Did anyone else come into the apartment?”

“I don't know.”

“Did you and Mia argue?”

“No.”

“Did she upset you?”

“No.”

“Did you drink tonight?”

I hesitated.

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“I don't know.”

“Annabelle.”

“I said I don't know.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Were you drunk?”

I looked away.

“I remember drinking.”

“But you don't remember what happened afterward?”

“No.”

He glanced toward the knife.

“Convenient.”

My eyes snapped back to him.

“I didn't kill her.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

“I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't remember!”

My voice echoed through the room.

Daniel stared at me.

I could see the suspicion in his eyes.

He thought I was lying.

Maybe everyone did.

He stood.

“Take her to the station.”

A police officer stepped forward.

I looked at Daniel.

“You're arresting me?”

“We're taking you in for questioning.”

“Am I under arrest?”

He paused.

“Not yet.”

“Then I don't need to go.”

“You're the primary person of interest in a homicide.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Of course I am.”

Daniel looked at me.

“What does that mean?”

“It means this always happens.”

“What always happens?”

“Someone dies.”

I looked around the room.

“And somehow, everyone decides it's me.”

Nobody spoke.

Daniel studied my face.

Then something caught his attention.

He looked down at my hands.

“Wait.”

He grabbed a flashlight from one of the officers.

“Hold her hands up.”

I did.

He examined them carefully.

“What?”

He didn't answer.

He looked at the officer.

“Where's the evidence technician?”

“Outside.”

“Get them.”

The officer left.

I looked at Daniel.

“What are you looking at?”

“Your hands.”

“Why?”

He didn't answer.

A minute later, an evidence technician entered.

Daniel pointed toward my hands.

“Take photographs before anything is cleaned.”

The technician nodded.

I stared at them.

“Why?”

Daniel finally looked at me.

“There should be more.”

“More what?”

“Blood.”

My eyebrows pulled together.

“What?”

“If you stabbed someone at close range, I'd expect more blood on your hands.”

I looked down.

There was blood on my fingers.

But not much.

Daniel's expression became thoughtful.

The officer beside him frowned.

“Maybe she washed them.”

I immediately shook my head.

“I didn't.”

Daniel looked toward the sink.

Then back at me.

“There's no water on the floor.”

Nobody spoke.

He looked at my clothes.

Then at Mia.

Then at the knife.

Something was bothering him.

But whatever it was, he wasn't ready to say it.

Instead, he turned toward the evidence technician.

“Collect everything.”

The technician nodded.

Daniel walked toward the doorway.

Then stopped.

He looked back at me.

“Annabelle.”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember anything at all?”

I closed my eyes.

For a moment, I saw something.

A dark figure.

Standing behind Mia.

A hand.

A voice.

You should have listened.

I opened my eyes.

“I remember someone being here.”

Daniel immediately turned around.

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

“Male or female?”

“Male.”

“Did you see his face?”

“No.”

“What did he look like?”

“Tall.”

“Anything else?”

I tried to remember.

“He was wearing…”

I stopped.

“What?”

“Black.”

Daniel exchanged a look with the other detective.

Then he came closer.

“Annabelle, listen to me carefully.”

I looked at him.

“If someone else was here, you need to remember.”

“I know.”

“Because right now, everything points to you.”

I looked toward Mia.

“No.”

He frowned.

“No?”

“I mean…”

My voice trembled.

“I didn't do this.”

Daniel stared at me for several seconds.

Then he nodded toward the officers.

“Take her in.”

As they led me toward the door, I looked back one last time.

Mia was still lying there.

My best friend.

The only person who had never been afraid of me.

And now she was dead.

Because of me.

Or at least...

That's what everyone was going to believe.

Outside the apartment, the crowd had grown.

People were watching.

Phones were out.

Whispers filled the hallway.

Someone shouted,

“Psychopath!”

I lowered my head.

Then I heard another voice.

Quiet.

Almost too quiet to notice.

“Annabelle.”

I stopped.

I looked toward the crowd.

Nobody was looking at me.

Nobody except Daniel.

He was standing by the apartment door.

His eyes were fixed on the bloodstained floor.

Then he looked at me.

For a second, something changed in his expression.

Not suspicion.

Confusion.

Because he had noticed something nobody else had.

The blood on my clothes was mostly on the front.

But the blood on the knife...

was on the opposite side of the handle.

And if I had truly been holding it when Mia was attacked...

that shouldn't have been possible.