The silence in the house was suffocating.
After witnessing the unthinkable her father and Mirabel locked in a passionate embrace. Nina had run back to her room, her heart pounding, her breath caught in her throat. She slammed the door shut behind her, pressing her back to it, willing the images from her mind.
Her legs gave way beneath her, and she sank to the floor, trembling.
How could he? How could they?
The sounds, the sighs, the look on his face—one of abandon, of desire—not grief. Not mourning. And Mirabel… dressed in silk and shadows, tangled in her father's arms as if she'd always belonged there.
Nina stared ahead, numb.
Her mother had barely been buried. The scent of lilies still clung to her skin. And now this?
The tears came slowly, then all at once. But with them, came something more potent: rage.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through her curtains, but the world outside looked no less gray. Nina remained in bed, staring at the ceiling, her fists clenched beneath the covers.
A knock on her door.
"Nina? It's Dad."
She didn't answer.
"Sweetheart, can I come in?"
Still silence.
The door creaked open anyway. He stepped inside cautiously, a coffee mug in hand. "I brought you something. Thought you could use it."
Nina sat up slowly, her expression unreadable. She took the mug from him without a word, her fingers curling around the warm ceramic like it might anchor her to something real.
He hovered at the edge of her bed, unsure. "Look, about yesterday—"
"Don't," she cut in, her voice sharp. "Don't you dare stand there and pretend like that was nothing."
Her father flinched, caught off guard by the venom in her voice.
Nina set the mug down carefully on her bedside table. "Mom hasn't even been dead a full month, and you—" Her voice cracked. "You're already with her?"
His jaw tightened. "It's not like that."
"Oh, please!" she snapped, standing now, her grief a tidal wave rising behind her eyes. "I saw you. I heard you. Don't insult me by lying."
He looked away, rubbing a hand down his face. "Mirabel and I… we've been close for a while. Even before your mother—"
She stepped back as if slapped. "Before? Before what? Before she got sick? Before she died? Tell me, Dad. When exactly did you two start betraying her?"
He didn't answer.
Silence swelled between them, thick and choking.
"I thought you loved Mom," Nina whispered, her voice shaking. "I thought you were grieving too."
"I did love her," he said quietly. "But things were… complicated."
Nina turned away from him, her shoulders rigid. "You should go."
"Nina—"
"I said go!" she yelled.
He hesitated, then nodded slowly and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Nina grabbed her pillow and screamed into it, muffling the sound of her broken heart.
Later that afternoon, she found herself at the edge of her mother's garden—the one she used to tend every Saturday with gentle hands and a soft hum. The roses were wilting now, the soil cracked, like it was mourning too.
She knelt down, brushing dirt from the base of a flower. Her fingers paused when they brushed something hard buried just beneath the soil.
Curious, she dug deeper and uncovered a small, rusted tin box.
Inside was a folded note and a flash drive.
Frowning, she opened the note.
"If anything happens to me, look into the records at Divine Mercy Hospital. And be careful who you trust. —Mama."
Nina's breath caught.
Her mother knew.
She stared at the flash drive, a chill crawling down her spine.
First, it was the journal and now this; Nina thought to herself. Mom has been leaving traces of how I can start from where she stopped to reveal the truth.
I spent hours poring over the journal, looking for clues that might lead me to the truth. The entries were cryptic, but I noticed that Mom had mentioned a few names – Dr. Patel, Rachel, and Alex. I didn't recognise the names, but I had a feeling they might be important.
I decided to start by searching online for Dr. Patel. After a few minutes of digging, I found a LinkedIn profile that matched the name. Dr. Patel was an oncologist at the hospital where Mom had been treated. I hesitated for a moment before sending him a message, hoping he might be able to shed some light on Mom's treatment.
As I waited for a response from Dr. Patel, I turned my attention to Rachel and Alex. I didn't find anything online, but I remembered that Mom had kept an old address book in her desk drawer. I rushed downstairs, hoping it was still there.
The address book was hidden away in a dusty drawer, filled with names and numbers that Mom had scribbled down over the years. I flipped through the pages, my heart racing as I saw the names Rachel and Alex listed. There were phone numbers and addresses, but no indication of who they were or how Mom knew them.
I decided to try calling the numbers, hoping someone might answer. The first number rang several times before going to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message. The second number was disconnected.
Feeling frustrated, I tossed the address book aside. But then I noticed a small piece of paper stuck between the pages. It was a note, written in Mom's handwriting: "Meet Rachel at the coffee shop on 5th street. 2 pm. Be careful."
I stared at the note, wondering what it meant. Who was Rachel, and what did she have to do with Mom's death? I felt a surge of determination, knowing I had to find out more.
As I sat there, lost in thought, I heard a knock at the door. It was Mirabel, carrying a tray of food. "Hey, sweetie, I brought you some lunch," she said, setting the tray down on the coffee table.
I forced a smile, trying not to show my suspicion. "Thanks, Mirabel. You didn't have to do that."
She smiled back, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "Of course, I did. You're family now. We take care of each other."
I nodded, feeling a wave of nausea wash over me. How could she pretend to care about me when I knew she did with Dad.
As she turned to leave, I stopped her. "Mirabel, can I ask you something?"
She turned back, her expression curious. "Of course, Nina. What is it?"
I hesitated, unsure how to phrase my question. "Do you know anyone named Rachel or Alex?" I asked finally.
Mirabel's expression changed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "No, I don't think so. Why?"
I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "I just found some names in Mom's address book. I was wondering if you knew them."
Mirabel's smile returned, but it seemed forced this time. "I'm sure it's nothing important, dear. Your mother knew a lot of people."
I nodded, feeling a sense of unease. Mirabel was hiding something, and I was determined to find out what.
As she left the room, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my best friend, Sophia. "Hey, need your help with something. Can you meet me at the coffee shop on 5th street?"
Sophia responded almost immediately. "What's going on? Yeah, I'll meet you there. See you soon."
I smiled, feeling a sense of relief. With Sophia's help, I might finally uncover the truth about Mom's death and Mirabel's involvement.
The coffee shop was bustling when I arrived, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Sophia was already seated at a table, sipping on a latte.
"Hey, girl, what's going on?" she asked, concern etched on her face. "You sounded really upset over text."
I took a deep breath, filling her in on everything – the journal, the photograph, and my suspicions about Mirabel. Sophia listened intently, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Whoa, that's heavy," she said when I finished. "What can I do to help?"
I smiled, grateful for her support. "I need you to help me dig up some dirt on Mirabel.
As Sophia and I sat at the coffee shop, I showed her the photograph and the journal entries. Her eyes widened as she read through the pages, her expression growing more serious with each passing moment.
"This is crazy," she said, handing the journal back to me. "What do you think Mirabel's role is in all this?"
I shook my head. "I don't know, but I have a feeling she's involved in Mom's death. And I think Dad might be too."
Sophia nodded. "We'll get to the bottom of it. Let's start by investigating Mirabel's background. See if we can find any dirt on her."
I nodded, feeling a sense of determination. With Sophia's help, I might finally uncover the truth about Mom's death.
Over the next few hours, we dug up as much information as we could about Mirabel. We found out that she had a reputation for being ruthless in business, and that she had a history of manipulating people to get what she wanted.
As the sun began to set, Sophia turned to me with a serious expression. "Nina, I think we need to be careful. If Mirabel is involved in your mom's death, she might not hesitate to hurt you too."
I nodded, feeling a shiver run down my spine. But I was determined to uncover the truth, no matter what it took.
As we left the coffee shop, Sophia turned to me with a determined look. "Let's get to the bottom of this. We'll start by talking to Rachel and Alex. See if they know anything about Mirabel's involvement."
I nodded, feeling a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we would finally uncover the truth about Mom's death.
As we walked, I noticed a small café nearby. "Hey, let's grab a coffee and go over what we know," I suggested.
Sophia nodded, and we sat down at a table outside. As we sipped our coffee, I filled her in on my conversation with Mirabel earlier that day.
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "She's definitely hiding something. We need to keep pushing her to see how she reacts."
I nodded, feeling a sense of determination. We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing our plan of action, deciding who to talk to and what questions to ask.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, I felt a sense of resolve. I was going to uncover the truth about Mom's death, no matter what it took.
The next morning, Sophia and I decided to pay a visit to Rachel, one of the names mentioned in Mom's journal. We tracked down her address to a small apartment complex on the outskirts of town.
As we knocked on the door, I felt a sense of nervousness. What would Rachel tell us? Would she know anything about Mirabel's involvement?
The door opened, and a woman in her mid-30s stood before us. "Can I help you?" she asked, looking us up and down.
"Hi, Rachel," I said, trying to sound calm. "My name is Nina, and this is Sophia. We're investigating my mother's death, and we found your name in her journal."
Rachel's expression changed, and she looked nervous. "Come in," she said, stepping aside.
As we sat down in her living room, Rachel told us about her relationship with Mom. They had been friends for years, and Rachel had been one of the few people who knew about Mom's suspicions regarding Mirabel.
"What did you know about Mirabel?" Sophia asked, her eyes locked on Rachel's.
Rachel hesitated before speaking. "I knew she was manipulative and ruthless. Your mom was investigating her business dealings and suspected she was involved in some shady activities."
I felt a surge of anger. "Do you think Mirabel had something to do with my mom's death?"
Rachel nodded. "I do. Your mom was getting close to uncovering something big. I'm afraid Mirabel might have seen her as a threat."
As we left Rachel's apartment, I felt a sense of determination. We were getting closer to the truth, and I was going to make sure Mirabel paid for what she had done.
The investigation was heating up, and I knew it wouldn't be long before we uncovered the truth. But as we walked away from Rachel's apartment, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched.
I turned to Sophia, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let's be careful. If Mirabel is involved, she might try to silence us too."
Sophia nodded, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "We'll stick together and watch each other's backs."
I smiled, feeling grateful for her support. Together, we would uncover the truth and bring Mirabel to justice.
As we walked, I noticed a black car following us. My heart skipped a beat as I grabbed Sophia's arm. "Look, that car is following us."
Sophia's eyes locked onto the car.