Testament of Lies

CHAPTER 4—ZAYELLE

★

My whole body burned in the shower, the scalding water seeped into the wound on my palm.

It stung, badly.

Luckily that was the only open wound I had, the rest where just faint scratches on my knees.

Taking out the small sticks and dust from my hair was war, each tug seemed to multiply the tangles like reminders of the forest floor.

My back ached from being on all fours for nearly an hour but the pain in my pride was far worse.

I crawled to someone. I, Zayelle Evander f*****g crawled to another human and that humiliation burned further than any injury.

My dignity was quite literally dragged across the forest floor, scraping against stone and debris.

Liara was the one who accused him but I'm the one who's suffering for her mistakes? It doesn't make sense to me.

I haven't heard anything from her since I moved and I have literally no idea where she is now.

"s**t. That bastard." I cursed as I yanked out another stubborn twig from my hair.

I wrapped my towel around my body before going to sit at my vanity.

The ID card from earlier was beside my diffuser. I'm actually greatful that it didn't fall from my pocket to the floor or that would have been another issue entirely.

Also the spring that holds the cover together with the card is jammed and I can't pull it out without breaking it.

So I slid it into my drawer, keeping it tucked under a few documents.

My head is pounding like crazy, I need a f*****g break.

I go to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and pop two painkillers and a paracetamol, drinking water first to ensure it doesn't touch my tongue.

From my peripheral vision, I spot the same arrow I threw down this morning right back at it's previous position.

At this point, this was beyond reason. He was just at Freddie's house so how the hell did he find the time to come here.

My jaw hurt from how tightly my teeth where pressed together, the strain biting into my inner cheek until it hurt to even hold my mouth shut.

My palm throbbed as I grabbed the arrow, anger coursing through me with every step down.

Without hesitation, I flung the arrow in the fire place and lit it up. The wood arrow burnt quickly, leaving only the metal behind.

That is how badly I want him to burn, because someone like him deserves to burn in hell with the rest of the demons similar to him.

—

My palm felt heavy against the pillow, a searing pain radiating from the open wound.

I forgot to turn off my alarm as it echoed throughout the room, doing nothing but elevating my anger.

Taking a closer look at my palm, the edges had turned a sickly yellow, like it was holding pus behind it.

I think I need to get it checked at the hospital before it turns into something serious.

The thought of dragging myself to the hospital felt exhausting, but the alternative was unthinkable.

After all of yesterday's events, it's safe to say that I want nothing other than to lie in bed.

After booking the doctors appointment, I went to the bathroom to shower. There where only two available doctors and I just clicked the first one I saw.

So I have an appointment in exactly one hour.

I went downstairs for breakfast consisting of bacon, eggs, bread and avocado.

I love avocado's so much, except when their super mushy or course.

I tossed ice, bananas, coconut, honey, milk, coffee powder and a tad bit of vanilla extract into the blender to make my favourite smoothie.

It literally tastes like fall, plus it's healthy.

I glanced at the clock and boy was I late. Grabbing my keys, I rushed out of the house and hopped into the car.

The seats and ground mats are full of grass and dust. I winced at how dirty my car was because of that bastard.

It was already around nine thirty and most people where at work so the road was kinda empty— Luckily.

I picked a hospital I have never used before due to how close it is to my house.

I'm actually surprised I have never tried it before despite it having very good reviews.

The map said I'm currently only two minutes away and I'm already seven minutes late for my appointment.

I come to a halt at the parking lot of the building. The hospital was actually very large with a lot of cars parked outside.

A gust of cool air welcomed me as I moved through the large double doors.

The receptionist confirmed my name in the system before giving me a slip to consulting room four.

A nurse led me upstairs to a row with an array of white doors, ranging from room one to twenty.

She left after pointing at the room with a giant 'four' at the top of the door.

I twisted the handle, pushing the door back.

The air hit me like a wall, impossibly colder than the rest of the hospital.

Then there was that scent—citrus and sandal wood, an unmistakable scent.

I direct my eyes at who was sitting on the desk, a man with jet black hair and onyx eyes that were impossible to miss.

I freeze at the door, which had absolutely nothing to do with the insane temperature.

What the actual heck was he doing here?

Why is a psycho like him in a doctors office and not in a psych ward?

I clutch my slip tighter, my left arm still on the door handle.

"Mrs Zayelle Evander? You're about ten minutes late, have a seat." Corvin stares at me blankly like me have never crossed paths.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I glare at him, my jaws tightly clenched like I'm about to lock them.

My heart rate picked up again; which is something that happens an awful lot when he's around.

He raises his brow with a stare that seems like he's asking if I have gone mad.

"Didn't you book a doctor's appointment?" He twirls a pen between his fingers while holding eye contact.

"Yes. For a doctor."

"Then have a seat, my next patient arrives in thirty minutes."

His words lingered in the air, steady and professional— the twisted madman from yesterday was no where to be seen.

I hesitated, every step weighed down by obvious reluctance, lowering myself on the seat across him— still clearly in shock that he's a doctor.

I knew he was studying medicine but I never knew he completed his degree and actually became a doctor after prison.

Another constricting wave of guilt gnaws at my heart, the thought weighed down on me like iron chains draped across my shoulders.

Sometimes these feelings really confuse me.

For the past three years, I've felt nothing but deep guilt for what I did, although I tried to push it to the back of my mind.

But ever since he reappeared in my life, I've felt immense hatred—a disgusting amount of hatred.

"You wrote that you have a palm injury, am I correct??" He asks, interrupting my train of thoughts.

I show him the pus filled wound, "This."

He looks at it in scrutiny like he wasn't the cause, "That looks slightly infected, what could you have been doing?"

I swear that for a split second the corner of his lips lifted subtly.

He rose from his swivel chair, the white coat drapes down the back of his thighs. It's tightened around the shoulders, almost looking like it was about to be ripped apart.

Putting on his gloves, he takes my palm between his thumb and index finger and examines it for a bit.

"Its a mild infection, it just needs cleaning and medication. I'll send the antibiotics prescription to the pharmacy so ensure to pick it up before you leave."

He takes an antiseptic from the table beside me, dabbing a cotten ball into the metal plate.

He seemed so...at ease. Like this was our first meeting.

"This might sting a bit." His voice flowed calmly as he lowered the cotton ball into the wound.

The moment it touched my palm, a painful sensation shot through my entire hand.

I clenched my empty fist, forcing my face to stay neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

"You can hold into my shoulder if it hurts that bad." His offer was wrapped in a tone that carried more mockery than kindness—if there was any at all.

As he dragged the cotton across the length of the wound, I bit my inner cheek so as to not make a sound.

He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying this.

After what seemed like forever, he took out a fresh cotton ball and covered the injury along with a band aid.

He flung the used now brown cotton ball into the infectious bin and returned to his table.

The clicking of the keyboard filled the somewhat awkward silence.

"You'll get polymyxin at the pharmacy downstairs. Have a great day."

I got up from my chair, going straight for the door without looking back.

"Have a great day my ass." I slammed my door shut the moment I sat in my car, dropping the medicine on the passenger seat.

Just yesterday, he got off watching me crawl and chasing me through the forest now he's acting all prim and proper.

If I didn't know who he truly was, I'll fully believe that he was normal.

My phone rang, disrupting my thoughts. Again.

Mom's name flashed twice as I turned my attention to the glowing screen.

I answered the call, bringing the phone to my ear, "Hello?"

"You've forgotten about your mother so soon?" Her dramatic voice comes through as soon as I say hello.

"Sorry, I've been busy. Plus I called you last week. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, how about you? Are you eating properly." Her tone softens slightly and I imagine her face does as well.

"I'm good and yes I am eating properly."

Indistinct chatter punctuates my sentence through from the background.

"I actually called you because we are attending an exclusive charity gala in Monaco and I want you to come along. I know you're busy but can you make time?"

I sigh, drawing circular motions on my forehead. I AM busy but she genuinely sounds like she wants me there, "When is it?"

"It's on a Saturday evening so you can fly in on Friday. I've already booked the hotel."

"I'll take an early flight on Friday."

We talk for a bit before my both say goodbye and I hang up.

Maybe—just maybe— this could be the break I desperately needed to clear my head.

I text mike to tell him in advance that he'll continue the investigation alone till Sunday.

He wouldn't be thrilled, but he'll understand.

We haven't made the best progress so far because he whole case just doesn't add up. He was a registered government official but yet he had no records? It was suspicious and borderline impossible.

Jenna is the only person we could consider a relative for now.

I can't ask Jenna anything for now because of her reaction previously. She very clearly has some deep rooted trauma from her past marriage.

"Freddie Jones..." I mutter as I step on the breaks and speed off.

—

I sat on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the screen reflecting the doorbell camera.

My legs tapped against the rug in vertical motions as I watched intently for any sign of movement or forced entry— but there was none.

Switching to the backdoor cam, the same emptiness stared back at me.

Still no sign of breaking in.

Unless he somehow manages to get in through the window without leaving a trace, he's meant to be detected.

The only security cameras I have at home are at the front and behind the house. I never felt the need to install them in the house.

But now, I think I do.

I descend the stairs taking my smoothie from the fridge before taking my laptop from the counter.

I don't think I've ever ordered anything on sss so this is gonna be a first.

I run through the options with prices ranging from three hundred dollars to a thousand, in different custom colours.

I pick the one with the highest reviews and place an order. It's estimated to arrive around three to five hours from now.

After shutting down my laptop, I return to my vanity, pulling out the ID card from between the drawers.

It had still refused to budge an inch after trying to gently take it apart since yesterday.

The small circle holding the string appears weak and the smallest amount of force exerted could break it apart.

There's really no way to see what's inside without ruining it.

I haven't told anyone at the office about the card, I haven't even told them that I went to the house.

And crawled to someone.

Another wave of shame and embarrassment git me as I recalled yesterday's events. This is genuinely going to haunt me till I die.

I freaking crawled to someone. Somehow this is even worse than him meeting me in the church.

At least I wasn't on my hands and knees there.

I shake my head with a sigh, turning my attention back to the card.

Pulling out a screw driver, I poke it between the crevice at the top, twisting it gently until I heard a small pop.

A small space was formed, so I forced the screw driver through again until I heard a pop at the bottom.

The card slipped from the opening, landing on the floor with a dull thud. I set aside the cover on the table, picking the actual card off the floor.

As I inspected it, it just didn't seem right. All all government issued ID I'd ever seen carried at least a name, position or some form of identity

But this didn't, infact it didn't have anything at all, just a barcode across a plain white card.

Unlikely. Very unlikely.

I unlocked my phone opened the qr scanner and hoovered the lens over the code.

The screen blinked for a few seconds before displaying it.

Error 404.