Tension in the Hosie

Claire and her mother returned home, the atmosphere heavy with tension. Claire slammed the door behind them as she stormed into the living room, her anger radiating off her in waves. Her mother, trying to keep the peace, gently helped Claire remove her handbag, her hands trembling slightly as she held it. Claire began pacing, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she fumed, her frustration building with every step. Her mother, ever the calming influence, watched her daughter, unsure of what to do to ease the seething anger bubbling inside her.

"Right now, I don't need water, Mom!" Claire snapped, her voice harsh and raw from the intensity of her emotions.

Her mother, always the peacemaker, tried again. "Calm down, Claire. Just take a breath."

But Claire was beyond calm. "How do you expect me to calm down? This is all Chantel's fault! I almost ended up behind bars because of her stupidity, and I swear, she's going to pay for this!" Her voice was a low growl, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She was furious, and nothing was going to stop her from seeking revenge.

Her mother's thoughts quickly turned to action. She could feel the same anger building within her, a sharp, almost cold determination to rid themselves of the problem that was Chantel. "I will not let Chantel ruin everything for us. She will pay for what she did."

Claire's eyes narrowed as her mother's words echoed her own thoughts. "I'll make sure she ends up in that cell, and I'll sue her until she's begging for death," Claire hissed, her mind already racing with plans of revenge.

Meanwhile, in the second living room, Andrew stood in front of the large window, his fists clenched as he replayed the events in his head. The frustration of almost being arrested because of Chantel was eating him up inside. Gripping his phone tightly, he called Lina, his anger still fresh and raw.

Lina, busy making her way toward the kitchen, heard her phone ring and quickly pulled it out of her pocket. When she saw Andrew's name flash on the screen, she hesitated for a moment. Looking over her shoulder to ensure no one was around, she slipped outside into the garden to take the call. The sound of the wind rustling the leaves filled the silence as she answered the phone. 

"Yes, Mr. Andrew," she said, her voice steady but with a hint of caution.

"Have you got the recording?" Andrew's voice came through the phone, sharp and impatient.

"Not yet, sir," Lina replied, her voice laced with uncertainty. She could feel the tension building on the other end of the line.

Andrew's temper flared. "What are you waiting for? You need to do this now. Get me the recording, or there will be consequences."

Lina's heart raced. "I don't know where it is, and I don't have access to the room. I'm not sure how to get it."

Andrew's voice turned cold. "Aren't you a maid there? You should have access to every room. Make sure you get that recording, or I'll find someone who can." His tone was final, and Lina could feel the weight of his anger.

"I'll find it, but I need to be careful," Lina said, trying to keep the situation under control.

"Listen, I'll give you half of your payment once you deliver it. And after that, I'll pay you the rest. Just get it to me, quickly," he added before hanging up abruptly. Lina stood there for a moment, trying to steady her breathing. She had to be careful, but she knew she couldn't back out now.

Back inside, Andrew sat on the couch, his phone still in hand, staring at the screen. His mind was a whirlpool of frustration and anger. Just then, Sharon entered the room, holding a glass of water. She handed it to him, her expression soft with concern.

"You should drink this," she said gently.

Andrew took the glass from her, his gaze never leaving her face. He sipped the water but didn't respond right away. Sharon studied him, her eyes filled with empathy. "You must be exhausted. After everything Chantel has put you through, you should come to bed. Get some rest."

Andrew's anger flared once more. "Chantel is testing my patience. And when I'm done with her, she'll regret ever crossing me."

Sharon shook her head, her voice calm but firm. "I understand how you feel, but no mother would willingly give away her children for money, especially when there's someone willing to care for her baby. Truth be told, you and Claire are both at fault here. Maybe it's time to admit your mistakes and just move on. Forget about the children, and focus on your lives."

Andrew's temper snapped. "Shut up! You have no idea what it's like to be a father, to want access to your kids, and have that ripped away from you. You don't understand!" His voice was raised, his face red with fury.

Sharon recoiled slightly, taken aback by his outburst. "I'm just trying to help you, Andrew," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "But if you don't want my help, then fine. I'll leave."

Andrew glared at her. "You're not helping. You're just making things worse. Leave. Now."

Sharon's eyes widened with shock. "What? You want me to leave? At this hour?" Her voice trembled with disbelief.

"Yes. Now. You're just adding to my frustration," Andrew snapped.

With a hurt expression, Sharon turned and walked toward the stairs. She didn't say another word but left the room, grabbing her bag as she passed through the hallway. Andrew didn't even glance her way as she left the house, his mind consumed with thoughts of Chantel and Claire. He was done dealing with distractions. 

Meanwhile, Chantel had just received a call from the inspector. She answered the phone with high hopes, eager to hear good news.

"Yes, Inspector, were you able to get them to confess?" she asked, her voice tinged with desperation.

"No, Miss Chantel," the inspector replied, his tone apologetic but frustrated. "We tried. We locked them up during the investigation, but they were bailed out before we could get any confessions."

Chantel's heart sank. "But you're still working on it, right?"

"Yes, we're still investigating," the inspector assured her. "Don't lose hope."

Chantel sighed, trying to steady herself. "Alright, thank you, Inspector," she said before hanging up.

Just then, Henry arrived home, carrying a small bag of snacks. He noticed Chantel's moody demeanor as he stepped into the living room. "What happened? Why do you look so down?" he asked, concerned.

Chantel looked up at him, her frustration evident. "The inspector just called. They couldn't get Claire and Andrew locked up. They were bailed out. It's all falling apart."

Henry shook his head, clearly irritated. "I told you this was a bad idea, Chantel. You shouldn't have made them suspects. Even if they killed Jeff, they'll be more careful now."

Chantel didn't respond. She simply stood there, lost in her thoughts, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

Downstairs, Lina watched as Chantel and Henry spoke. She saw an opportunity to search their room for the evidence, and quietly, she crept toward the staircase. Moving carefully, she entered their room and began searching through the drawers, the closet, and finally, Chantel's handbags. It wasn't long before she found what she was looking for: the recording.

Lina quickly played it, her heart racing as Claire's voice and Andrew's voice filled the room. She knew she had the proof she needed. But just as she was about to leave the room, she heard Henry and Chantel's voices coming up the stairs.

Panicked, Lina darted behind the heavy curtains, holding her breath as they entered the room. Chantel paced, deep in thought, while Henry undressed, completely unaware of Lina's presence. Lina could hear Chantel speaking, her voice filled with concern for the children. The tension in the room was palpable.

Chantel's thoughts were consumed with worry. If Andrew and Claire were capable of going to such lengths, she feared they would stop at nothing to get their way.

"I won't let them come after our children," Chantel muttered to herself. "But Henry doesn't understand. He doesn't believe they're capable of hurting us."

Henry, noticing her distress, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, trying to comfort her. "Stop overthinking. You're stressed out. Let's just go to bed."

Chantel turned to face him, still troubled. "I'm worried about the kids, Henry. I know what they're capable of, and I won't let them hurt us."

Henry, brushing her concerns aside, told her to trust the police and not to get involved. "You've been through enough today. Let the authorities do their job."

Chantel relented, but as they moved to the bathroom together, Lina took the opportunity to slip out of the room quietly. She closed the door behind her and headed outside to the garden, where she quickly dialed Andrew's number.

When Andrew answered, Lina wasted no time. "I have what you wanted," she said, her voice low and urgent.

Andrew, still upset from earlier, picked up the phone. "Do you have the recording?"

Lina smiled, feeling victorious. "Yes, I have it. But I need you to meet me tonight. I don't want Chantel to know I have it. And you'd better bring the money, as promised."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Andrew said, his voice filled with anticipation.

Lina hung up and waited in the garden for Andrew's arrival. Moments later, Andrew's car pulled into the driveway. He quickly got out and approached Lina, handing her the envelope containing the promised money. Lina opened it, confirming the cash inside before handing over the recording.

Andrew played the recording, his face breaking into a smile. "Perfect. You can leave now."

"What about the other job?" Lina asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I'll let you know about that later," Andrew replied.

Lina, satisfied with the transaction, walked away, leaving Andrew behind. He quickly returned to his car, already planning his next move. 

Back at the house, Chantel noticed that her handbags were out of place. Her heart dropped as she realized the evidence was missing. Henry, now fully dressed, walked over to her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing her frantic search.

"The evidence... it's gone," Chantel replied, her voice shaking with worry.

Henry froze, his mind racing. "What? You're sure?"