Harry's eyes burned with fierce anger, his face twisted in grief. He moved closer and I backed away, frightened by the intensity of his emotions. But he grasped my arms tight. He started throwing punches at me, each blow fueled by rage and sorrow. But I didn't fight back. I couldn't. Despite Madam Zoey's cruel treatment of Isla, she was a loved woman.
I took the punches, feeling a mix of guilt, shame, and regret. Harry's anger was justified, and I knew I had to face it head-on If I wanted to protect Isla.
Harry's fists finally stopped, he grasped my shoulders tightly. "I will ask you one more time, Damen," he growled, his voice low and hoarse. "What. Happened."
I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for my next decision. "I pushed her," The words sounded foreign coming from me. "We have been having an affair and we had a disagreement. I lost control and pushed her and she fell."
"You" Harry's laughter was cold and mirthless. "You?" he repeated. "That is impossible, Damen. Give me a good reason, a reason that makes sense, as to why my wife is lying on the ground dead."
Harry's gaze shifted to Isla, his eyes narrowing in accusation. "You, of course," he spat, his voice venomous. "He would cover for you. Look, Isla, I have never liked you. I tolerated you just for his sake. Now, tell me, why did you kill my wife?"
Isla's voice trembled as she stammered, "I-I..." She took a step closer to me, her eyes welling up with tears. "I am sorry," she whispered. "It was a mistake, I'm sorry."
Harry's face twisted in rage as he pulled at his hair. "Of course, I knew it, you killed my wife, and now you want someone I consider my own son to take the blame for you?" His voice was filled with disgust. "You are the most selfish woman I have ever had the misfortune of meeting."
He raised his hand as if to hit her, and thankfully lowered it back down. His finger shivered as he pointed at her, "I will not touch you, I will wait for the police and I will ensure you rot in jail."
Isla clung to me, her body shaking with sobs. She buried her face in my chest. I imagined Isla in prison alone, pregnant and vulnerable. No, I couldn't let that happen. I knew I had to protect her, no matter what.
I knelt down beside Harry, my eyes locked on his. "What are you doing, Damen?" He asked, shocked "Stand up, don't put me in a difficult position. I have just lost my wife."
"I am so sorry for your loss, Harry," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "But please, I am begging you, don't send Isla to jail. She's pregnant with my child. Please, don't take her away from me, from our unborn child."
Harry's expression hardened. "What did you just say?"
"She is pregnant," I repeated. "I know I am being selfish, but please, when the police get here, let's stick to my story. You will tell them I am the one who pushed your wife, please, I am begging you."
Harry's face turned red with rage, his voice rising to a shout. "You are crazy if you think I will let the murderer of my wife walk free!"
"Please, Harry, I am begging you," I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation.
"Look at you, Damen, on your knees begging me to let you go to prison for a crime you never committed. Are you crazy?" Harry's gaze shifted from me to Isla, she stood hugging herself in the corner. "You witch," he spat. "Why don't you persuade him to stop this madness? If you love him, don't let him ruin his future for you. Are you even worthy of it?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Blaze," Isla whispered, her voice trembling as she shook her head. "I can't."
The sound of sirens pierced the air, growing louder as the police cars approached. Their was silence as the officers stepped out, their eyes scanning the scene. I held my breath, afraid of what Harry might say. But Harry remained silent, his expression unreadable.
The statements were taken, it seemed that Harry and Isla had indeed stuck to my story because only me was led away for further briefing.
Finally a policeman approached me, handcuffs ready. "Turn around, please," he instructed. I complied, feeling a chill run down his spine as the cold metal closed around his wrists. As I was led away, I could feel Harry's accusing gaze burning into my back.
A date for the court hearing was set. Sitting in the police cell, fear finally crept in, I realised I was one step closer to facing the consequences of a crime I didn't commit.
"May I make one phone call, sir?" I asked the officer who had seemed rather interested in my case.
The officer raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Are you going to call that beautiful girl with the big brown eyes?" he teased, chuckling to himself.
"Listen, boy, I would advise you to forget her. Even though it wasn't intentional murder, you will get to serve ten years. And that's only because Zoey's husband doesn't want to press charges. By the time you get out of here, she will probably be married with kids. It is best if you just forget about her and focus on serving your time." Another officer advised.
The other officers in the room laughed, but one of them was kind enough to lend me a phone. "Here, kid, make your call."
"Hello?" The voice on the other end seemed stressed and tired.
"Hello, VD?" I replied.
I heard some shuffling, a glass might have broken as VD probably stood up too fast. "Damen, is that really you? I have been trying to reach you everywhere! I even sent someone to spy, and they told me that you were in prison."
"Yes, I am," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of my situation sinking in.