After dropping Kate off at her new home and watching David drive away to get some rest, Racheal finally made her way back home. The exhaustion weighed heavily on her, pressing down like a suffocating blanket. The past few days had drained her completely, physically, mentally, and emotionally and all she could think of was finding a quiet spot to rest.
She walked straight into Richard's room and collapsed onto his bed, inhaling the faint scent that still lingered. She fell onto the bed, her eyes shutting instantly as her head hit the pillow. Sleep enveloped her swiftly, providing a much needed refuge from the emotional storm raging within her.
A sudden jolt startled her awake. Her heart skipped a beat as she blinked against the light filtering through the window. A figure loomed over her. Her mother.
"What are you doing in Richard's room?" Harriet's voice was cold, her arms crossed tightly against her chest.
Racheal rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Mom, you're back?" she muttered.
Harriet cut her off with a scornful glare. "So this is why you sent him to his death? So you could take over his room?"
Racheal shot up from the bed, fury coursing through her veins. "Mom!, it's just a room. How can you even say that?" She stared at Harriet in disbelief. "I lost Richard too! And instead of focusing on who did this to him, you're blaming me?"
Harriet's lips quivered, but Racheal didn't stop. The pain and anger swirling inside her refused to be contained.
"If you really loved Richard," she said, her voice trembling with anger, "you would have been there for him. Maybe then, he wouldn't have felt the need to run away, to fake his own death, to cut you and Dad out of his life completely." She let out a bitter scoff, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "But now? Now you suddenly remember he was your son?"
Harriet's face went pale, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. Without another glance, Racheal turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.
As she stepped into the hallway, she nearly crashed into her father.
"Watch where you're going, Racheal," he snapped, his tone sharp with irritation. "And what exactly were you doing in Richard's room?"
Without waiting for his reaction, she refused to acknowledge him further. Brushing past him, she strode toward her room and slammed the door shut behind her,
"She's such a rude child," Harriet muttered behind her. Racheal could hear the smirk in her voice, but she didn't care.
Inside her room, she let out a shaky breath and pulled out her phone. Her hands trembled slightly as she dialed David's number. He picked up after the first ring.
"David," she whispered urgently. "Are you home now?"
"Yeah, I just got back. Why?"
She exhaled. "Just wanted to be sure. Listen, we're keeping this a secret. No one, not even the police can know about Kate."
There was a brief pause, then David's steady voice came through. "Yes, Racheal. Anything to honor Richard. I'm in."
A small wave of relief washed over her. "Thank you," she murmured. "Talk to you later."
She ended the call and sank onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Racheal was strictly under house arrest. She wasn't allowed to see anyone, and no one was allowed to see her. It went on for an entire week. Whenever she protested, her parents dismissed her concerns, insisting they were only trying to keep her safe.
"Festac isn't safe, Racheal, especially for the Georges family," they would say.
Amidst the suffocating boredom of being confined within the house, her only solace was her secret communication with Kate. She made sure David provided everything Kate needed, making calls in whispers and sending texts late at night. It was the only thing that gave her a sense of purpose.
One afternoon, desperate for a distraction, she decided to rearrange Richard's room. The walls still held traces of his presence, and the thought of touching his belongings sent a pang through her chest. But she needed something to do, something to keep her grief from suffocating her.
As she stepped into the room, she found one of their housekeepers, Rita, dusting the shelves.
"Rita, please excuse me," Racheal said with a forced smile. "I want to rearrange my twin's room."
Rita nodded politely. "Alright, ma'am." She quickly gathered her supplies and exited, leaving Racheal alone.
She took a deep breath and got to work, sorting through the clothes in the closet, folding them neatly, dusting shelves, and reorganizing the books on his desk. She felt her heart tighten with each item she touched, each memory flashing in her mind. Then, something odd caught her attention, a phone hidden beneath a pile of books on the nightstand.
Her brows furrowed. She had never seen Richard with this phone before. Its screen was black, the battery completely drained. Without hesitation, she rushed to her room, grabbed her charger, and plugged it in. The screen flickered to life after a few moments, her heart sank with a mix of excitement and fear as she unlocked it.
She immediately went to the gallery. The phone was filled with pictures of Richard and Kate, smiling, laughing, moments frozen in time. Then she saw Andrew in some of them. Videos of them when they were still on good terms. Her chest tightened. Curiosity led her to the messages. But one message made her blood run cold. It was from Andrew, and the words seemed to leap off the screen
"I already parked the car at the Lost Highway off Route 59, Just after the fox forest sign board. Everything is ready. Good luck, Bro."
She read it twice, confusion twisting in her stomach. What car? What was Andrew talking about? Her hands trembled as she quickly copied the address onto her phone. A sudden knock on the door made her jolt, and she shoved the phone under the pillow.
"Hey, Dad," she said, forcing calm into her voice as she saw Antony standing there.
His sharp gaze scanned the room. "What are you doing in Richard's room again?"
Racheal gestured at the half arranged furniture. "I'm rearranging it. You can see that."
Anthony didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped inside, his eyes darting around as if searching for something. Suspicion flickered in his expression before he finally turned and walked out without another word.
Racheal released a deep breath, her heart thudding in her chest. She needed to speak with David, now.
The moment David picked up her call, she didn't waste time.
"David, I found something."
"What is it?" His voice was sharp, alert.
"A message from Andrew. He mentioned a car parked at the lost highway off Route 59."
David's response was immediate. "I know that place. It's right before the Fox Forest. If we cross the Silent River, we can get there in 20 minutes, but if we use a car, it'll take us 50 minutes."
There was silence for a second. Then, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Racheal replied
"I need to go there."
"Racheal, wait"
"No. I need answers, David. I can't stay locked up in this house while the truth is out there."
A deep sigh. Then, "Fine. I'll pick you up in thirty minutes."
The drive was tense. The deeper they went into the deserted highway, the heavier the air felt. The sign for fix forest appeared on their right, and just beyond it, a car sat abandoned near the edge of the woods.
David parked a few feet away, scanning the area. "Be careful."
Racheal nodded, stepping out. Her stomach churned as they approached the vehicle. The air was thick, the silence unsettling. She peeked inside the car, and her breath caught.
Richard's clothes.
Her hands trembled as she reached inside, lifting a familiar jacket. Her twin's jacket. The one they both had. Beside it, a duffel bag sat open, revealing stacks of plastic wrapped packets.
David's face darkened. "Drugs."
A lump formed in Racheal's throat. "What the hell was Richard involved in?"
Before David could respond
A gunshot split the night. BANG!.
The bullet struck the car, just inches from where Racheal stood. The metal groaned from the impact.
David's eyes widened in horror. "RUN!"
Racheal spun around. A dark figure stood at a distance, just beyond the treeline. A gun raised.
The second shot rang out.
David yanked her wrist, dragging her away just as the bullet missed them by a breath. Panic surged through her veins as their feet thundered against the forest floor, dry leaves crunching beneath them.
"Go! Go!" David's voice was sharp.
The night air clung to them, thick and suffocating. Behind them, the sound of footsteps followed, fast and determined.
"Someone's chasing us!" Racheal gasped.
David pulled her toward a massive tree, pressing her back against it. His breathing was ragged, his grip firm. "We need to get to the car."
Racheal peeked out from behind the tree. The silhouette was still there, moving closer, methodically, like a predator stalking its prey.
David grabbed her hand again. "On my count, we run. Don't look back."
She nodded, swallowing hard.
"One… two… three!"
They bolted from their hiding spot, tearing through the trees. Another gunshot rang out, whizzing past Racheal's ear. Fear clamped around her chest, but she kept running.
David's car was in sight.
"Almost there!" he shouted.
Their pursuer wasn't giving up. The sound of rapid footsteps closed in. But just as they reached the car, David yanked the door open, shoving Racheal inside before diving in himself. The engine roared to life, tires screeching against the pavement as he floored it.
The figure in the woods didn't follow. Instead,he watched as the car sped away, disappearing into the night.
The ride back to Festac was silent, heavy with tension. They had nearly died. Someone had tried to kill them.
David's grip on the wheel was tight. "What's going on, Racheal?"
She stared out the window, her mind racing. "I don't know. But Richard, he was really into something dangerous."
David exhaled sharply. "And now, so are we."
As they neared her house, David glanced at her. "Be careful, Racheal."
She nodded, her throat tight. "You too."
Slipping out of the car, she moved carefully toward the house. Thankfully, her parents hadn't noticed her absence. She climbed the stairs silently, entered her room without a sound. She locked the door, exhaled and leaned against it. The night's events crashed over her like a wave, and her body ached from exhaustion and the bruises she hadn't even realized she had gotten.
She needed a shower, something to wash away the fear clinging to her skin.
After a warm bath, she collapsed onto her bed. Her phone vibrated. David.
But sleep had already claimed her.