Confused

Episode2

When we arrived, at least five police cars were parked haphazardly around my mother’s house, their flashing lights casting eerie shadows on the walls.

I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking against the driveway, my heart pounding louder than the sirens.

“Detective,” I said sharply, “why all the police presence?”

He looked at me grimly. “We believe your mother may have been a victim of homicide.”

Homicide? The word hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath caught in my throat. Who would dare…?

“Explain everything. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“This morning, we got a call from Mrs. Daniels—your mom’s neighbor. She said she heard screams coming from inside the house. When she knocked, no one answered. The door was locked. She kept calling out, but the screaming stopped.”

I felt my stomach twist.

“She called us and the paramedics. When we forced entry, we found your mother collapsed on the floor. No sign of forced entry, no struggle. But on the table—” he gestured inside—“we found a half-eaten slice of cake. We suspect it was poisoned. A sample is at the lab.”

My chest tightened. Just yesterday we celebrated her birthday… someone used her birthday as cover to kill her.

I swallowed hard. “Thank you, Detective.”

He gave me a nod before stepping away to brief his officers.

I walked into the house, the scent of vanilla and tragedy hanging in the air. My eyes fell on the table. The cake box still sat there, cheerful and unassuming. I moved closer, heart pounding, and lifted the box. It was from her favorite bakery.

Mom never shared her favorite cake brand with just anyone… whoever sent this must have been close.

I inspected the inside of the box—and froze.

There was a folded note beneath the remaining cake slice. My hands trembled as I unfolded it.

In bold, jagged letters, it read:

“SURRENDER OR YOU’RE NEXT.”

A chill ran down my spine. My fingers went slack, and the note fluttered to the floor.

A scream tore from my throat, echoing through the house.

People came rushing in—police officers, paramedics, even the detective. I was shaking uncontrollably, pointing at the note.

“I—I’m next,” I stammered.

The detective picked up the note, reading it with an unreadable expression.

“Miss Stacy,” he said slowly, “it seems you’re the next target. This is our only lead. If you’re willing to assist us—”

“Assist you?!” I cut him off, my voice raw. “You want me to be bait? Your guinea pig?!”

“Please—”

“Hah. Unbelievable.” My laugh was hollow, almost hysterical. “You can all play hero without me.”

I turned on my heel and stormed out, ignoring the detective’s protests. My bodyguards scrambled after me as I climbed into one of their cars.

“Take me back to the hospital,” I ordered coldly.

When we pulled up, Brian was still there, waiting like an anchor in my storm. When he saw me, his face lit up with relief. He waved, his grin boyish—too pure for this cruel, blood-soaked world.

I managed a tired smile.

He rushed over and grabbed my hands gently. “Stacy.”

“Yes?”

Before I could react, he pulled me into his arms. His warmth, his scent—it was almost enough to make me forget. Almost.

“No matter what happens,” he whispered against my hair, “I’m here. Always.”

I stayed in his embrace for a beat too long, then pulled back.

“Brian… we need to talk. Privately.”

We slid into the car. I shut the door firmly.

“What’s going on?” he asked, searching my face.

I took a deep breath. “My mom was poisoned.”

His eyes widened. “No… tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish I were.”

“But why? She was… she was so kind. Why on her birthday? Why like this?” His voice cracked.

His reaction surprised me. I was supposed to be the one falling apart, yet here he was, on the verge of breaking. But still… his grief felt comforting somehow.

“Brian, you’re being too emotional,” I said softly.

He moved closer, eyes dark with intensity. I instinctively leaned back until my shoulder hit the car door.

“What about when you yelled at me earlier—that everything wasn’t okay? You weren’t pushing me away then.”

His proximity made my heart hammer. His hand braced against the window above my head, caging me in.

“Brian, please…” I whispered, my voice shaking. “Not now.”

He leaned in just enough for me to feel his breath.

“Do you want to push me away again?”

“This isn’t the time,” I murmured. “Please, give me space.”

He held my gaze for a long, unbearable moment—then finally stepped back, exhaling sharply.

“Fine. But smile for me first.”

“What?”

“Smile. Just once. I need to see you smile.”

Despite everything, a faint smile tugged at my lips.

“There it is,” he said softly.

I composed myself. “I’m arranging an autopsy for my mom.”

“Good. You need answers.”

“Yes.”

Should I tell him about the threat? No. He didn’t need that weight on his shoulders—not yet.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Nothing,” I lied. “That’s all.”

We stepped out of the car together. I motioned to Henry.

“Arrange the autopsy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As I watched Henry walk away, my legs felt like lead. Today had been a storm I barely survived. But something told me… this was only the beginning.