Revelation

I

looked at the shoes sitting there with not a speck of dust to be found on them. They reflected the light in perfect capacity. They were stunning. They were stuff that nightmares are made of; my nightmares. I stood there, unmoving, unblinking, just staring.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Max reaching her hands to pick up the heels. “Don’t.” My voice felt like it was made of ice. It sounded far away, distant; it did not sound like mine. Max instantly retracted her reaching hand, sensing the change in mood. What were these heels doing here? What did Annette do?

Are these Hannah's? Obviously, there is not just one pair of turquoise heels in this world. It is highly probable that Annette bought these. They do look brand new, like they had never been worn before. Yeah, that might be it. But what were they doing underneath the china cabinet? Of all places, why the china cabinet? It felt like she went through too much trouble just to place a pair of heels somewhere.

She could have placed them on the shoe rack beside the door, in the box they came in, or under the bed. Why the china cabinet? What does she have to hide? I felt my own heart sinking in my chest upon my thoughts. Could Annette be....? No, no, no. That cannot be possible, not in a million years. She would never do that to me. She would never kill Andrew. She is my sister. She would never even think about harming me.

She is my friend. She stood by me when no one else did. She brought me food when I was in jail, even when I insulted her to her face. How is this even possible? There has to be a misunderstanding. God, I am spiraling. Maybe she was trying to protect her new shoes from the dust they may end up catching from the shoe rack placed out in the open.

Maybe something happened to the box. It was raining the other day; what if she bought the heels that day and the cardboard box got wet and ruined as she returned home? Maybe there is no more space left under her bed to put the heels in? Maybe. I have to ask her what is going on. Why turquoise? I have never heard her mention she even likes the color.

I have never seen her wearing the color either. Then why would she buy the shoes? I needed answers. I needed answers or I would break apart into tiny pieces, never to be rebuilt. I could feel my chest constricting and my breathing getting heavier. I had to remind myself to calm down, to realize that I did not yet know anything, and she could easily have bought these shoes while passing by a shop without any indication of their meaning. Besides, it is not like I ever told her about the turquoise heels.

How could I blame her for getting such a stunning color? I am sure if she knew, she would have never bought it. But why did it feel like she was going to lengths to hide them by placing the under the china cabinet? Footsteps. Annette’s footsteps brought me out of my own spiral. I turned around. As soon as she entered the room, I asked her. “Annette, are they yours?” I could not decipher her expression or her thoughts.

My phone rang just as I exited Annette’s apartment. I could not shake from my mind the encounter we just had. It was Detective Ocon. I picked up and placed the phone close to my ear. “Hel......” “Victoria, where are you?” He sounded urgent. He did not even let me finish my greeting. “I am outside.” “Is Max with you?” “Yes, she is right here.” “Good. Come with her to the police station right now.” And with that, he cut the call. What happened?

Did something happen to Nathan? Oh, God, no. I knew I needed to get there as soon as possible; otherwise, I would keep making up worse scenarios in my head. “What happened?” I got startled by Max's voice coming from right behind me.

For a moment, I had forgotten she was here as well. I shook my head before speaking. "I do not know. Detective Ocon first asked me if I was with you and then told me to come with you to the precinct right away." Max just nodded her head and increased her walking pace toward the bus stop. Following her example, I began to run toward it practically.

We barely caught the bus as we reached the stop just as it was leaving. Both of us entered the bus as I was out of breath while Max looked like she had barely broken a sweat. Her and her police training. The bus was packed with passengers as I finally looked up. All of them were eyeing both of us weirdly, as though we were aliens.

Due to the non-availability of seats, both of us just stood for the entire ride. I did everything to distract myself. I tried to chat it up with Max, I played with a toddler who was sitting in the seat beside us with his mom, I talked to a high schooler who was reading a book I particularly loved, and I even talked to an elderly gentleman about the political and economic situation of the country. Anything to pass the time, anything to stop me from spiraling, anything to remind me that I am not alone, sitting in a dark corner in my childhood home; anything to stop me from relapsing.

This time, it was I who started running. As soon as we got off the bus, I began to run in the direction of the police station. Everything passed by me as a blur as I ran faster and faster. I could faintly hear Max's steady breath over my own ragged breathing. How is she not struggling at all with the running? We rounded the corner and immediately reached the police station. I did not stop.

I kept running toward the glass door that opened into the precinct. As soon as I entered, the usual chaotic scene greeted me. Telephones are ringing, people in detention cells are creating a ruckus, and policemen are talking to each other over the voices in detention cells; all of it presented itself like a scene from the fish market.

Max entered merely seconds after I did. “Do you see the detective?” she asked me in a monotone. I shook my head as I surveyed my surroundings for any sign of him. I spotted the back of his head turning a corner down the hallway. Max called out to him, and he turned around. Spotting both of us, he motioned us forward. “Victoria, Max, over here. Follow me.” We walked behind him as he led us toward a policeman sitting on a chair beside his desk. "I had a suspicion that Hannah might come back to your apartment as soon as you are discharged.

I did not think she would do anything to you, but I still thought she might react when she realized that her listening devices were gone. So, I stationed someone at your old apartment. And she came back." My breath stilled. How did they anticipate this? More importantly, how did I not think about this? “What happened?” I asked him.

He gave me a tired smile and then said, "We knew she should come in through the window, so a policeman was stationed in the bedroom. However, he got up to go and get water. He had assumed that he would be able to hear the click of her heels climbing up the fire escape. However, she was not wearing heels this time.

So, when he came back from drinking the water, he saw someone exiting through the window. As soon as she heard the bedroom door open, she did not look back and instantly made a run for it. He ran after her, but he was unable to catch her. It seemed like she knew the area really well." The disappointment on my face was quite obvious.

The way Detective Ocon was building up the story, I thought he would take me to one of the cells and say, “Here she is. All done and dusted, you do not have to worry anymore; you never have to look back.” But that was not the case. She was still out there. We did not move any closer. “However, we did find something valuable.

He noticed soot visible on her clothes. We have narrowed down her location. It also matches with the bus stop she got on. I think we have a solid lead.” My frown instantly turned into a smile. I could not thank Detective Ocon and the policeman enough. We had a solid lead.

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