Mirabelle’s POV:
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“That’s fine, but I don’t think you should trust her.” He added.
“I just… I don’t even know who to trust anymore, Ken. Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I don’t know who’s on my side, or who’s out to get me.” I said, forcing out a smile.
“Hey.” He said, as he reached across the desk and took my hand in his. “I’m on your side. You know that, right?”
His touch was warm, and for a moment, I felt good. I didn’t pull my hand away, didn’t try to hide the tears that slipped down my cheeks. “I want to believe you.” I whispered. “I do. But I’ve been burned before, and I don’t know if I can trust my instincts anymore.”
“Then trust mine.” He said quietly. “I don’t like Natasha, Mira. There’s something off about her. I don’t know what it is, but I think she’s hiding something. And if Noah can’t see that, then maybe he’s too close to the situation.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my lips. He wasn’t wrong-I had seen enough to suspect that Natasha was more involved in this mess than she appeared. And yet, I didn’t want to admit it, not to Ken, and certainly not to myself.
“I’ll handle it.” I said finally, pulling my hand back and straightening in my chair. “Thank you, Ken. But I need to figure this out on my own.”
He nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Just… be careful, okay? If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
I watched him leave.
When the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a shaky breath. Maybe Ken was right-maybe Natasha wasn’t as innocent as she pretended to be. But I couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions without proof.
I needed to be sure.
That evening, I laid awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling as the hours passed by. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the fire, I heard the screams, the crackling wood, and felt the suffocating heat against my skin.
I was tormented.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Noah’s name. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the answer button before I finally pressed it.
“Hello?” My voice was hoarse, barely over a whisper.
“Mira.” Noah’s voice was soft, filled with concern. “I heard about everything. Are you alright?”
I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay calm. “I’m fine.”
“I should have called you sooner. No-I should be there.” He said, the guilt clear in his voice. “I can come back early if you need me.”
“No.” I said quickly, too quickly. “Stay. Finish what you’re doing. I can manage things here.”
“But you shouldn’t have to manage it alone. I feel like I’m letting you down.” He replied. “You’re dealing with all of this by yourself, and I hate it.”
I closed my eyes, feeling his words settle over me. “I’m used to it, Noah. I’ve always managed. I’ll be fine.”
There was a long silence on the other end, and I could hear him struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Mira.” He said finally. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
“I will be fine.” I said, and I meant it. “But I’ll get through it. I always do.”
The call ended.
Lying in the dark, the memory of Natasha’s too-sweet smile and the shadowy figure from the CCTV merged into one.
I should tell Carter about Natasha tomorrow. I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore, not if there was even a chance she was involved.
The next morning, my eyes snapped open. The early morning light streaming through the curtains. Without thinking, I reached for my phone, dialing Officer Carter’s number. It barely rang twice before he picked up. “Mrs. Sylvester, I was just about to call you.” He started.
“Why?” I asked, sitting up and brushing the stray hair from my face.
“We managed to enhance the footage.” He explained. “It’s clearer now. I think you should come down to the station as soon as possible.”
“I’ll be there.” I said, forcing out a smile. I hung up, barely registering my surroundings as I stumbled out of bed.
I rushed to the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush with shaking hands. I didn’t bother with a shower; there was no time. Quickly, I threw on a pair of jeans and a loose sweater, not caring how disheveled I looked.
As I hurried down the stairs, I heard Grandpa Ed’s voice. “Mirabelle, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine, Grandpa.” I said, my words clipped. “I’m in a rush, that’s all.”
Tyler tugged on my sleeve, but I couldn’t stop. “Mom, where are you going?”
“Just work.” I lied, forcing a smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
Before they could ask more questions, I was out the door, keys in hand. I could hardly breathe as he drove to the station, my chest was tight.
When I arrived, the station was buzzing. I made my way to the front desk, giving my name and asking for Officer Carter. A young officer led me through a maze of cubicles until we stopped at Carter’s cramped workspace.
He looked up. “Mrs. Sylvester, please, have a seat.” He said, gesturing to the chair beside him.
I sank down, barely able to focus on anything except the PC in front of him. “You said the footage was clearer?”
“Yes.” He nodded, opening a video file. “We enhanced it as much as we could. It’s not perfect, but it’s a lot better than what we initially had.”
My palms were clammy, and I wiped them on my jeans, my heart pounding in my chest. “Play it.”
Carter pressed play, and I watched as the grainy image from the night of the fire came to life once more. Only this time, the shadowy figure wasn’t just a blur of movement. The face, while not crystal clear, was distinguishable enough.
My breath caught as the seconds ticked by. Then, the camera angle shifted, catching the face in a fleeting moment.
I froze, a cold chill spreading down my spine. It was a face I recognized. A face I had seen countless times before.
“No!” I exclaimed. “It can’t be…”
“Do you recognize him?” Carter’s voice broke through the silence.
I turned to him, my face pale and my hands shaking. “Yes.” I said, my voice trembling. “I… I know who it is.”
“Who?” He pressed, leaning closer.
I swallowed, my throat dry. “That’s Samuel. My husband’s manager. He’s… he’s the one in the video.”