CHAPTER 1
Of all the ways I imagined spending my twenty-fifth birthday, standing in a cramped bathroom stall with my best friend as she hurled her guts out was not what I had expected.
“God, I'm so sorry,” Sara whimpers when she can finally draw a breath again.
I can't help but feel guilty that she'd gone through all that trouble to make my birthday so special.
It's not like she could afford it.
“You've got nothing to apologize for”.
I say as I pull her hair out of her face, securing it with the hair tie wrapped around my wrist.
A moment passes before she relaxes.
“Seriously, Emily, I've totally ruined your birthday”.
Sara wipes her face with her hands.
“This was supposed to be the night we'd remember for the rest of our lives.
I reach for one of the embroidered towels and turn to the sounds of Sara hurling her guts out.
“Should we just call it quits and head back home? I think my mom sent me tons of messages and she is about blowing up my phone with calls–”
“No!” One toilet flush later, Sara stands in front of me, adjusting the strap of the dress hanging off her shoulder.
She wobbles towards the sink out of pure determination.
“I'll call us a cab,” I continued, reaching for my phone.
“Emily, I wear to God”. Sara levels me with one of her infamous don't you f**k with me glares.
But the sudden outburst drains the color from her face again.
“Babe?”
“Yeah girlfriend?”
“Be a sweetheart and call me a cab”.
Sara reluctantly gets into the cab with me. On the way home Sara managed to puke in the cab.
While bargaining with the cab driver about the extra fees, my phone buzzed.
With embarrassing speed, I swiped open my phone.
Unknown caller ID
A shiver runs down my spine as I stare at the screen.
“Hello?” I answered cautiously, trying not to let my voice betray the nerves creeping in.
I can barely process the words on the other end of the line.
The world seemed to narrow down to just the distant, tinny voice of the officer, each word landing like a punch.
“Miss Banks… your parents’ home was broken into tonight.
I’m very sorry to inform you that your father has passed. Your mother… She's in critical condition.”
My grip tightens around the phone as a rush of emotions crashes over me: disbelief, horror, then a blinding rage.
"And your brother has been detained. There's... strong evidence linking him to the scene. He’s been charged with your father’s murder.”
I barely notice the cab driver muttering something about the mess in his car.
I manage to mumble, “Just keep driving.”
The cab finally drops Sara off, and then it’s just me, the silence, and my thoughts tearing through the night.
I stare at my phone, trying to piece together what I’ve been told, but nothing makes sense. This can’t be real.
My mind races to my brother, who’s been running Dad’s company since he got sick last year.
We’d only just started to see a light at the end of the tunnel, hoping our lives would return to some kind of normal.
But now… now it feels like everything we’ve worked for is being torn apart.
In a fog, I arrive home, stumbling through the front door to find my aunt, pale and shaken, waiting for me.
I stood frozen, my aunt's words barely registering as I gazed around the familiar room.
The warm glow of the lamp, the comforting scent of Mom's cooking, everything seemed surreal.
The police officer's words still echoed in my mind: "Your father has passed... Your brother has been detained."
"Aunt Mary, what's happening?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
My aunt's eyes, red-rimmed from crying, met mine. "Emily, sweetie, I'm so sorry. Your father... he was murdered. And Andrew... the police think he did it."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "No, that's impossible. Andrew would never—"
"I know, dear. We'll get to the bottom of this. But right now, we need to focus on your mother. She's still in critical condition.”
The hospital. I needed to be there.
"Aunt Mary, I have to see Mom."
"Okay, dear. Let's go."
The drive to the hospital blurred together. Questions swirled in my mind: Who could have done this? Why would they accuse Andrew?
At the hospital, the antiseptic smell and sterile lights only added to my unease. I rushed to Mom's room, my heart racing.
Inside, Mom lay motionless, tubes and machines surrounding her. I felt a sob building in my throat.
"Aunt Mary, what's her condition?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"The doctors say she's stable, but... Emily, we need to prepare ourselves for the worst."
I nodded, unable to speak.
As I stood vigil beside Mom's bed, my thoughts turned to Andrew. How could they think he was capable of such a heinous crime? I knew my brother, his kindness, his integrity.
Determination burned within me. I would prove Andrew's innocence, no matter what it took.
Just then, a figure entered the room. Tall, imposing.
"Miss Banks, I'm Detective James. We need to talk about your brother's case."
My instincts screamed warning, but I steeled myself. "What do you want to know?"
The detective's expression was unreadable. "We have evidence, Emily. Strong evidence. But I want to hear your side of the story."
I took a deep breath, ready to defend my brother, my family.
"What do you want to know?" I repeated.
The detective's eyes locked onto mine. "Everything.”
The next hours blur into police statements, sterile hospital lights, and my mother, lying lifeless in a sea of tubes and machines.
My father’s business had long been a target of corporate sharks and rivals, with Jurong Electronics leading the pack.
And now, my brother Andrew, the one person I have left, is being blamed for a crime I know he didn’t commit.
But the evidence is too real; his fingerprints on the weapon found in his home, financial irregularities link him to embezzlement.
The prosecutors found a slush account in a paper company which he denied knowing about.
When the investigations began, he was convicted despite his appeal of innocence.
