Racheal had spent the entire night tossing and turning. The words in Richard's notebook wouldn't leave her mind: "Trust no one. Not even family." They played over and over like a haunting melody she couldn't escape.
Inspector Jones returned back into the Georges' residence, his presence commanding attention. Racheal sat between her parents in the grand living room, clutching a cup of untouched tea.
"I trust the family is holding up?" Jones asked, his tone courteous but firm.
"We're coping, Inspector," Harriet replied, her voice strained.
"Have you uncovered anything?" Anthony questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Jones hesitated, his piercing gaze shifting to Racheal. "There are developments, but I need to speak with Miss Racheal."
Racheal's heart skipped a beat. "Again", she fumed. She shot her mother a glance, expecting her to object, but Harriet merely nodded and left, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Inspector Jones settled into the chair opposite Racheal, he slipped out his notepad. "Miss Racheal, I need your absolute honesty. Did your brother have any enemies, anyone who might have wanted to harm him?"
Racheal's lip trembled as she bit down on it, her mind racing with the secrets she had uncovered. Should she reveal the name "Andrew" written in Richard's notebook, or the cryptic notes that spoke of threats and money? She decided to tread cautiously.
"I'm not sure I'd call them enemies," she began slowly.
"Did he ever mention a name? Someone he was meeting or avoiding like David mentioned?" Racheal hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But something about Jones's kind eyes put her at ease, and she decided to take a chance.
"He wrote a name in his notebook," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Andrew. I don't know who that is, but it was circled multiple times."
The inspector's expression hardened. "Miss Racheal, withholding evidence is a serious offense. You need to hand that notebook over."
"I will," Racheal promised, though her tone was hesitant. "But I need to understand what's going on. Richard was more than just my twin brother, he was my confidant, and my best friend. And now, he's gone. My heart is shattered into a million pieces. Whoever did this, I will not rest until justice is served."
Jones softened, his voice tinged with genuine empathy. "I promise, we'll get to the bottom of this. But we need your cooperation."
The door swung open, interrupting their conversation. David bursts in, his eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying. His frantic gaze darted between Racheal and John.
"I just remembered something, something important " David began, wiping tears off his face before they strolled down his face. Racheals stomach tightened,
"What is it David, have you found anything". Jones interjected firmly "Few days before his disappearance, He had been meeting someone . A woman. "Racheal's eyes widened in shock. Her twin brother, Richard, had always shared his secrets with her, but this... this was a bombshell. "A woman?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Who is she?". " I don't know her name", David admitted, " but he told me i will meet her someday"
Why didn't you mention this before?" Jones demanded. I was scared!" David exclaimed. "David, you'll need to come down to the station for a full statement."
David stiffened. "Do I have to?"
"Yes," Jones said firmly. "And this time, don't leave anything out."
As Inspector Jones and David left the room, Racheal felt a surge of determination. She couldn't sit idly by while others pieced together fragments of her brother's life. She needed answers, and she was willing to do whatever it took to find them.
Later that evening, after the rain had stopped, leaving the air thick with the scent of wet earth. The town was silent, except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Racheal's feet moved instinctively, guiding her toward the Silent River. The place where Richard's body had been found. The moonlight cast long shadows, making the water glisten like black ink. It was ominously calm.
"You shouldn't be here," a voice said suddenly, startling her. Racheal spun around, her heart skipping a beat.
A figure stepped out of the shadows. Tall. Hooded. Eyes like ice.
Her breath hitched.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
The man stepped closer. "You need to go home now. Richard's killers might still be watching."
Her throat tightened. "You knew Richard?" she demanded. "Who are you?! How do you know me?!"
The stranger's expression didn't change. "You need answers, don't you?" He glanced around. "Meet me at the old wine factory. Tomorrowin the evening. Come alone."
Racheal's instincts screamed at her to run, but she stood frozen, her eyes locked on his. "Why should I trust you?" she demanded, her voice low and wary.
The man's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "You shouldn't."
Then, before she could speak again, he vanished into the darkness.
Finally, Racheal stirred, her senses returning as she hurried back home, the chilly night air biting at her skin. Her heart raced with dread, not from the eerie quiet of the streets, but from the thought of her parents discovering her midnight escapade.
As Racheal crept up the stairs and into her room, she flipped the light switch, sighing in relief. But that relief was short-lived. "Where are you coming from, Racheal?"
Racheal let out a terrified scream, her hand flying to her chest as her mother emerged from the shadows.
"Mom! You scared me!" Racheal gasped, her heart still racing as her mother stepped closer, her arms crossed tightly.
"And you scared me too," her mother retorted, her voice laced with worry. "Do you have any idea what time it is? The streets aren't safe, Racheal, especially not now."
Racheal swallowed hard, guilt creeping into her chest. "I…I just went out for a walk," she stammered, avoiding her mother's piercing gaze. Richard... he's all I've been thinking about."
Her mother's expression softened, worry replacing anger. She reached for Racheal's hand, her touch warm but trembling.
"Oh, my dear," she whispered, her voice heavy with grief. "I understand, but not at this hour. Richard's killers are still out there, Racheal. Do you know what that means? I can't lose you too."
Tears pricked at the corners of Racheal's eyes as her mother pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Mom," Racheal murmured, her voice muffled against her mother's shoulder. "I just... I feel so helpless."
Her mother pulled back, cupping Racheal's face gently. "We'll get through this," she said, her voice steady despite the quiver in her lips. "But you have to promise me you'll be careful. Stay close to home, I won't let anything happen to you."
Racheal nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Her mother offered a weak smile, brushing a strand of hair from Racheal's face. "Goodnight, my love."
"Goodnight, Mom," Racheal whispered, watching as her mother left the room, her footsteps fading into the hallway.
She pulled the covers over herself, but sleep didn't come easily.
The next day, Harriet was more overbearing than ever, insisting that Racheal stay indoors and away from the prying eyes of the town. But Racheal had no intention of obeying. She felt trapped and suffocated by her mother's constant vigilance.
As night fell, Racheal saw her chance. She slipped out of the house, the cool night air enveloping her like a shroud. The old factory loomed in the distance, its broken windows and crumbling walls casting eerie shadows under the pale moonlight.
Racheal got to the entrance, her instincts screaming at her to turn back.
"You came," the stranger said, emerging from the shadows."I want answers," Racheal replied, her voice firm.
"And you'll get them," he promised. "But first, you need to understand something. Your brother wasn't who you thought he was." "What are you talking about?"
As they navigated the crumbling halls of the abandoned wine house, The stranger's expression darkened.
"Richard was involved in things... dangerous things, he owed money and services to people who don't play about their money.
"What?" Racheal's stomach twisted. "That doesn't make sense. We are rich and my brother wouldn't have owed anyone."
The man's gaze was unwavering. "I understand you Racheal but it's not everything you know about Richard."
Racheal shook her head. "No. No, Richard wouldn't"
"Listen," the stranger interrupted, his tone sharp. "I know he didn't tell you this, but someone is pregnant with Richard's child."
The words slammed into her like a physical blow.
"What?" she whispered, her throat dry.
The stranger's voice dropped lower. "Her name is Kate."
Racheal staggered back, gripping a rusted railing for support. Her mind reeled. Richard had been expecting a child? And he hadn't told her?
"Why would he keep that from me?" she murmured.
The stranger ignored her question and continued.
"Aside from that, Richard was my business partner. We worked together."
Racheal's pulse quickened. "What kind of work?" "We delivered drugs in Festac."
Racheal felt the floor shift beneath her.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's not possible."
"It's the truth Racheal," he muttered. Richard wanted to pull out of the business, so he could take care of Kate and his unborn child and a few weeks later, he was killed."
"Who were you working for?" she demanded. "Who killed my brother?"
The man exhaled sharply. "We don't know who our direct boss is Racheal. We only get orders from people who work under him, hid middlemen. But Richard… he talked about meeting the real boss, the owner of the business. And then the next thing I heard, he went missing and..."
"He was killed," Racheal finished, her voice breaking. Racheal clenched her jaw, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "Why are you telling me this?"
The stranger's gaze flickered with something unreadable. "Because I want justice too. Richard didn't deserve to die, even if we had unresolved issues before he died."
She studied him for a long moment.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"My name is Andrew."
Racheal stumbled backward, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Andrew!.
The name echoed in her mind like a warning siren. That was the man whose name had been scrawled in Richard's notebook, the name her brother had circled in desperation. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized she was standing in the same room as the man who most likely killed her twin brother.