Twisted Ties

Ch. 3 - A DEATH SENTENCE

ALEXIA

Sleep evaded me, haunted by my last conversation with Kurt. The grandfather's clock pendulum swung restlessly in the guest room, reminding me of how close Kurt was to me. Each echo of footsteps made my heart skip a beat. I didn't trust him one bit.

And then there was Abigail, followed by the daunting task of becoming her. Could I really mimic her voice, her essence, her behavior? What happens to my life during the facade and after the facade?

Determined to uncover more truths, I went to Abigail's room. It turned out that Kurt and Abigail hadn't slept in the same room for a long time, and that wasn't my problem, but I wanted to know why.

My fingers trailed over Abigail's dresser. I opened a drawer and found some of her makeup kits, her skincare products, and many more. One drawer caught my attention; it seemed out of place. Its surface was not adorned like the rest, and it had a lock combination bar.

“What code would Abigail use?” I asked myself and thought for a long time.

I decided to try different codes—our birthday, our parents' wedding year, the year they died, and many more. The one that opened the lock was the date and month we left high school—2309.

I lifted the lid, revealing a stack of envelopes. One of the envelopes caught my attention. It had my name on it, and it was unmistakably Abigail's handwriting. With shaky hands, I opened it.

—“Dear Alexia,”

“If you are reading this, something's gone terribly wrong with me. I am scared. I don't know who to trust.”

My eyes stung as I folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope. I reached for the next envelope, and it was addressed to me again.

—“Dear Alexia,”

“Do not trust Kurt, not even his family.”

A chill ran down my spine as I returned the letter. Just as I reached for the next letter, Kurt's low and cautious voice called out to me. “Alexia?

I swiftly hid the box behind my back, my heart racing. Kurt's eyes narrowed as he entered the room. “What are you doing here?”

I forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just checking out the room my sister slept in every day.”

His gaze lingered on mine. “I am not a bad husband, Alexia.”

I shook my head, the box pressing against my back like a weight. "I never said you were.”

Kurt's expression turned guarded, his eyes darting around the room. “Alright. The detective is here.”

I c****d an eyebrow. I had already told Kurt I wouldn't act like Abigail. It was too risky. I had my own life to look after. But I didn't want to argue with him about that. “I’ll join you shortly.”

I went to the living room after going to my room to keep the box. A man was sitting with Kurt. His piercing hazel eyes seemed to bore into me, dark hair framed his face as he looked up.

“Alexia, this is Detective Derek Hart.” Kurt introduced him, his voice low.

I looked at the detective, trying to keep myself from falling. If Kurt hadn't been here, I would have walked up to the detective and slapped him right across the face.

Because why wouldn't I do that?

This was Derek Hart, my boyfriend of two years, who broke up with me not up to 72 hours ago.

Derek shook my hand, it was firm, his gaze intense. “Please, sit.”

The house was silent. Kurt had sent the maids and guards on a vacation, hence the reason I could freely move around the mansion.

We settled onto the couch, and Derek didn't waste time; he had read the contents of Abigail's diary.

“It should be established that the diary talked about how Abigail predicted her death. In this diary, we believe she was working on something secretive or working with some people who didn't like her, which led to her death.” Derek started, his tone commanding attention. “And we want to know what that thing is because Abigail said in this diary that you, Alexia, is to act like her to find those who would harm her.”

I shook my head, my wavy hair swishing against my neck. "That is not enough reason to justify me acting like her, detective Derek. We could do this by merely going through Abigail's stuff and asking questions from people.”

“Or we could do this when you meet every single person who knows Abigail, study their mannerisms, talk to them, and act like all is well while they plot another means to kill you.” He said, and his words irked me.

How could he sit there and talk to me like he hadn't broken my heart without giving me any reason?

“Investigation isn't as easy as you think it is. It could take years. Her attack was not random. The perpetrator wanted her dead, and now that she is really dead, we have to make people know she isn't really dead. It would shock them when Abigail resurfaces again after a month or so.”

I looked away, and Derek continued. “I understand your concerns, Alexia. But Abigail's diary is clear: she wants you to take her place. And we believe it's the only way to uncover the truth.”

I frowned, my heart racing. “What makes you think I can just step into her life? She never stated what she was investigating. I haven't seen her in a long time; what could she be into?”

“That is what we intend to find out. This is an investigation, and we need to find the perpetrators. Picture it as a murder case waiting to be unraveled.”

“Think about it, Alexia,” he pressed on. "What she was investigating put her in danger. She alone knows why she didn't do this with the police or something; she wanted it secret, and we want to know what that is.”

“What if they were there when she was burnt to death? What if they know she is dead?”

“She was burnt in her private villa. The bomb wasn't placed there, it was placed in the car. We can continue to dwell on what ifs and still get nowhere,” Derek explained with a low voice, his face etched in confusion.

I drew a deep breath and continued. “What about the missing pages? The diary is not complete. I believe we can find them around here instead of me acting like her,” I said, trying to sound convincing enough.

“We need you to help with that. You will mingle with everyone Abigail knows: family, friends, and her fans. They are the key to unlocking the truth.”

I glanced at Kurt; his expression was guarded.

“Everyone is a suspect, Alexia,” Derek reminded me. "We want everyone involved in Abigail's life to be studied. The diary has Abigail's everyday activities in it, except the last few days before she was shot; it's a guide for you. And trust me, I will protect you every step of the way.”

I took a deep breath, weighing the risks. “What if I can't act like Abigail?”

Derek understood me well. “You are Abigail's only hope. You have to avenge her death. And when I say that, I don't mean revenge; I mean to keep those who killed her behind her.” He paused and went on. "We'll provide training, support, and surveillance, I assure you. You'll be safe."

I wanted to tell Derek about the box I found and the letters, but I decided against it. I couldn't pretend that the absolute love of my life who hurt me wasn't the detective Kurt had called to investigate Abigail’s death.

I could wind up dead if care was not taken. The mere thought of it made me shiver. I glanced at Kurt, and he was staring at me with an unreadable expression that made me even more scared; if anything, I wanted to know if he had a hand in my sister's attack.

"I'll do it," I announced, knowing fully well I had just got myself a death sentence.