Eighty Six

"Good to see you today." I said, while she just nodded. I prayed that she would be in a good mood, but her silence spoke otherwise. I took some time to observe her before talking further. Her hair was unusually packed today, and it gave me a full view of her distressed yet stunning face. She is the real definition of beauty for ashes. Though she still had some scars on her left cheek, the redness of those scars only complemented her beauty. She didn't have any blood stain today on her body, and I wondered why.

She looked…good, and that gave me enough hope.

"How're you doing today?"

"You've only been gone for some hours." She said, more like a whisper, and with time I realized that was the highest she could go. Life in the prison has taken her voice, and her soul, probably. I just can't imagine…

"Hope," She called me.

"Yes, Paige."

"Do you…know my mother? Annabelle Steele?" She asked and I answered immediately.

"Who doesn't? I do. I loved her…very much."

"Do you believe me? That she's my mum?"

"I do." I swallowed. "I believe every word that you say."

"She's not dead…" She trailed off and I could sense her pain. I thought she was in some kind of hallucination, and I wanted to explain all the details of Annabelle's death again to her.

"We all wish that she isn't. When she had that plane crash…"

She shunned me with facial expressions that says nothing but "hang it there!".

"Listen to me, Hope Dickson…"

That

Sounded

Weird!

I've never been called Hope Dickson. In fact, I haven't been called Hope in a long time. And I just mentioned it once for her, and she stuck to it.

"You might be a stranger to me and I, to you. Trust me when I say, I don't trust you very much. You shouldn't trust me too, but I think you should be fighting another cause and not mine. Mine is settled already. I'm going to rot in here" she sniffed.

"But my mum… I don't know where she might be right now. Now that he is dead. You should listen to me."

"I'm sorry." I apologized.

"Annabelle Steele isn't dead. I have proof. She is probably somewhere in a rehab."

"Some years ago. Three years, to be precise, I saw a chat in Jude's computer. Someone reported to him about one of his captives, Annabelle, who escaped from the psychiatrist hospital where she was kept and was caught. We lived in Albany then, and he asked that she be taken out of the country. When I saw that, or rather when I realized it was my mother, it was already too late. She isn't dead. He kept her. He was keeping her. I saw medical reports. She's in a hospital somewhere, insane. I can't imagine what harm he has done to her, but I could not find her. I want you to help me," 

This is unbelievable. I said to myself. When Annabelle died, there was a grand ceremony, I was in high school and I watch it on TV. She was buried alongside her daughter. And now, I'm interviewing someone who claims to be that one that was buried. I was quiet. I didn't know what to make of these stories, and I was disturbed that it might be lies. Why would she lie to me?

She's a criminal, Kamila. Why won't she lie?

She isn't.

Oh… I don't know!

"You're quiet now, huh?" She spoke again.

"I…"

"You don't believe?"

"I…"

"It's alright. You can just…leave and forget I ever said this."

"No!"

How quick tempered?!

"I'm human, Paige, and I have every rights not to believe. I wouldn't be silent if I had no intentions to understand. I watched Annabelle and her daughter get laid to rest, this is hard news to me. Come on, be patient!" I scolded.

"Okay…" She licked her broken lips. "If you need to proof, I have a house, here in … Log into my laptop, it's all saved in there. My password…" She trailed off.

"Block 125 on The Cross' estate. I don't know if the police have gotten there yet, but the keys… Just break in. I don't have to tell you many stories, you'll find it all there."

She hadn't told me the password. I felt it was something personal, so I decided to wait.

"Why would Jude Kam keep his wife and announce her dead?"

"I wouldn't know." She hissed. "Why did your dad kill your mum?"

She directed my question back to me, and I realized she wasn't that bad a psycho. She isn't a psycho. It's just that, she is hurt…beyond repair. I wished I could give her that hope that she would be out of prison forever. That she would be able to live a normal life again. It's my first case, yet I feel so secure and so determined.

"Is that why you killed him?"

"No." She said immediately. "I can't tell you…"

"But you need to. I need to start working on your case, we have barely four months."

"We?" She arched her brow.

"Yeah, the two of us."

"You're crazy." She said. "You don't even know me. I still can't believe you decided to defend me for no reason. Who sent you?"

"Come on, Paige. Your insecurity kills me. I work for GLENWOOD hospitality. In fact, it's my first case."

"What?!"

"Yeah,"

I added, "insult me how you want" in my mind.

"You think you can solve such a complex case. What do you know?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't have given out that info if not for your insecurities. I need you to trust me, Paige because I need to trust you."

"Let's focus on my mom for now." She sniffed. "You said your husband's a cop?"

"Yeah."

"How did you meet?"

I thought the question was too personal, but I was ready to give everything away, so I explained the bumping incident.

"And you trust him?"

"I love him. I trust him."

"Then you can work with him. You have to be careful, Hope. Don't go to that address alone." She paused, 

"Since your husband is a cop, then he can help you find my mum. You can talk to him about what I told you. "

"Thank you for trusting me, Paige."

"I hope I don't regret it." She winced.

"What about the password to your laptop?"

She narrowed her eyebrows and shut her eyelids. "Damien."

"A name?"

"Just what you heard."