Chapter 109
The interrogation.
Megan’s POV:
Chris is bothered that Miles was my boyfriend, but then it was just in high school.
And you know, anything in high school was never serious.
He needs to keep calm and know that I am not leaving him to be with anybody.
I was still soliloquizing when I got a call from detective James.
I answered the phone with a sense of hesitation.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Megan, this is Detective James. I need you to come down to the station.” He ordered with a sense of urgency in his voice.
My heart began to race as I felt a sense of unease wash over me.
“What is this about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I cannot discuss it over the phone. Just come down, please,” he replied, his tone firm but polite.
I hesitated, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had I done something wrong? Was I in trouble?
“Okay… when?” I asked finally, resigned to the fact that I had to go.
“Now,” he replied, his voice firm.
I sighed, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.
“Okay, I will be there,” I said, trying to sound calm.
As I hung up the phone, my mind was filled with questions. What did the detective want to ask me? Is Kayla speaking now?” I thought.
I made my way to the station, my heart pounding in my chest. When I arrived, the detective was waiting for me, his expression serious.
“Megan, thanks for coming in,” he said, his voice firm.
I nodded, feeling a sense of dread.
“What is this about?” I asked, trying to sound calm.
“We just need to ask you a few questions,”
he replied, leading me to a small interrogation room.
“What are we doing here?” I asked him.
“Am in a suspect now?” I asked him on getting into the room.
I sat down.
“What kind of questions?” I asked him.
But the detective just smiled and began to ask his questions, his eyes piercing through me like a knife.
“So, Megan, can you tell me about your relationship with Kayla?” He asked me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, trying to sound convincing, but my voice cracks under the detective’s intense gaze.
“Kayla, Megan. Who is she?” he presses on, his voice firm but gentle, yet piercing through my defenses.
I sigh, knowing I can’t avoid the truth any longer.
“Kayla was… a friend,” I begin, my voice hesitant, as I delve into the memories I’ve tried to suppress.
“We met at the boxing gym. Jane, our trainer, she… she trained us both. We were like sisters, bonding over our sweat and tears.” I explained.
I pause, collecting my thoughts, as the emotions come flooding back.
“Kayla and I, we were inseparable. We supported each other, pushed each other to be our best. We shared our dreams, our fears, our secrets. But… things changed.” I explained.
I take a deep breath, the pain resurfacing.
“Kayla became… jealous. Of me, of my progress, of the attention Jane gave me. She started to distance herself, and eventually, she just left. No explanation, no goodbye. Just gone.” I revealed.
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but the detective’s eyes see right through me.
“That’s it. That’s the story of Kayla and me,” I say, trying to sound convincing, but my voice betrays me, revealing the hurt and confusion I’ve tried to hide.
The detective’s eyes linger on mine, and I know he’s not buying it. I brace myself for the questions that will follow, knowing that I will have to confront the truth.
I’m taken aback as the detective suddenly stands up, his expression softening.
“Let’s go, Megan,” he says, his voice gentle, a stark contrast to the intense interrogation just moments before.
I’m caught off guard, my mind racing with confusion. What just happened? Why is he suddenly being nice to me? I hesitate, unsure of what to do, as he gestures for me to follow him.
I slowly get up, my eyes fixed on him, searching for answers.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He doesn’t respond, just leads me out of the interrogation room, through the maze of police stations, and into the bright sunlight. The fresh air is a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere of the station.
As we walk, I can’t help but wonder what triggered this sudden change in him. Did he believe my story? Did he find new evidence? Or is this just another tactic to get me to open up?
I glance up at him, trying to read his expression, but his face is a mask of calm determination. I’m left with more questions than answers, unsure of what the future holds.
As we walk, the detective leads me to a small cafe nearby. He opens the door for me, and I step inside, my mind still racing with questions. We sit down at a quiet table, and he signals for me to sit.
“Megan, I want to apologize for the way I treated you back at the station,” he says, his eyes sincere.
“I know you are hiding something, but I also believe you are not a bad person. I want to help you.” He said.
I’m taken aback by his words, my guard slowly lowering.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice cautious.
“I think you’re in trouble, Megan. And I think you need someone to trust. I’m willing to listen, to help you work through this. But you need to be honest with me.” He told me.
I look into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. But all I see is kindness and genuine concern. Maybe, just maybe, I can trust him.
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath.
I sit in stunned silence, my mind racing with the implications of what I’ve just revealed. The detective’s words echo in my head,
“I think you’re in trouble, Megan.” But why? I thought I was safe. Kayla and Lily are behind bars, and I have finally found some sense of closure.
But as I delve deeper into my thoughts, a creeping sense of unease settles in. What if there’s more to the story? What if there are others involved, others who want to harm me? The thought sends a shiver down my spine.
I glance around the cafe, feeling a sense of paranoia wash over me. Are they watching me? Are they waiting for their moment to strike? My heart races as I think about all the unknowns, all the potential dangers that could be lurking in the shadows.
The detective’s voice breaks through my thoughts,
“Megan, are you okay? You look lost in thought.” I nod, trying to compose myself, but my mind is still reeling with worst-case scenarios.
What if I’m not as safe as I thought? What if I’m still in danger? The questions swirl in my head, refusing to let me go.