CHAPTER-1
Amie Salvin, a 24 year old resplendent journalist was found dead with a stream of cold red liquid staining her whole face from a gruesome wound in her head. I was only 13 when I saw her soulless body and watched Bianca Mile screaming and being put behind steel bars. I thought-
Why?
What do you get by murdering an innocent soul?
But it has never been that straight forward. I used to talk to Bianca on a daily basis… She was-
She was my friend, someone who was terrified to even talk about murder ended up doing it, that too in the cruelest way possible.
Flash forward to present day, Bianca is still in jail. My father Darrel Darren, a renowned detective in Camden, was the one who proved Amie Salvin was murdered by Bianca Mile. Growing up, my father was the only soul I idolised, I still do, but now it’s different. Different in the sense that while the young me idolised him, she also loved him…now she just idolises his work. All I can say is that the fame, the spotlight, the money got him good. I always look into his cold cases. Amie Salvin’s case is believed to be solved and finished by him and the people of the neighbourhood but it doesn’t settle right with me, it never did. For me, it’s still a cold case.
I watch my father slicing the egg yolk and drinking water, and of course being dead silent. You’d think that the silence must be awkward but at this point I’ve gotten used to it more than I’ve gotten used to people having spiders as pets.
“ Dad” I say.
He hums in response
“Um.. I was looking Salvin’s case”
“Will you end your obsession with it, how many times will you look into it?” He says, his expression hardened.
“I just think that it has more to it, that’s all”
“I respect the fact that you look into my cases but now you are questioning my skills and my job” He responds, his tone now angry.
Can someone remind me why exactly I shared with him what I was doing?
After a beat of silence, he says “Do what you want to do, I don’t care” He gripped his fork harder.
Yayyy, I’ve officially pissed off my father. IMPECCABLE JOB CHARLOTTE DARREN!
I remain silent, because honestly what can I do?
My father leaves for work and I, drumroll please…..
Look into Salvin’s case! SURPRISE! SURPRISE!
Ok so this is everything I know about the case-
1) Amie was murdered on October 23rd, 2016.
2) She was in her apartment.
3) Cause of murder- Unbearable force and pressure on the head.
4) Weapon- unidentified.
5) Her apartment door was locked, but the window was open.
6) Last call…
Bianca.
Precisely eleven minutes before the murder. According to the text messages they needed to discuss sensitive information without any third party interference. My father argued that this was justified proof of Bianca being the murderer of innocent Amie Salvin.
Now let’s look Bianca’s perspective-
She was into journalism. Her career had just started and she was looking for her big shot. She adored Amie, for her fearless and ruthless critique, always bringing out the truth. Was it adoration or was it…jealousy? According to my father, Amie was working on a big scale investigation on a crime that could change her whole career and Bianca wanted to steal it. Sounds reasonable I suppose…but what was that she was working on?
CHAPTER 2-
But here’s the thing…
Bianca never confessed.
…
I need to see Bianca.
Walking into Camden Women's Correctional Facility is like stepping into a vacuum of life. It’s all grey walls, metal bars, and the heavy scent of bleach.
The guard recognises me and his demeanour immediately stiffens. He knows I’m the daughter of the great Darrel Darren. I pretend to ignore it.
I feel a wave of reluctance washing over me as I recognise those dull emerald eyes, which once were filled with life.
No. I need to do this.
She looks like someone who doesn’t care about anything any longer, but it isn’t nonchalance…It’s loss of hope.
After seeing me, she lets out a humourless laugh. Can a laugh sting so much? Aren’t they supposed to be happy and joyous?
Not this one apparently.
I’ve only been here once before, when I was younger—when my father brought me to look at Bianca through a glass wall, his hands on my shoulders, whispering, "This is what happens to criminals, Charlotte. Remember that.",
“Hey look! The child of nepotism “ She remarks.
I know she has every reason to hate me. But also not really…
So how do you do this? Do you just say that HEY! I THINK MY FATHER GOT THE WRONG PERSON IN JAIL…FUNNY RIGHT?
Yea…no.
“Hear me out” I say in an attempt for her to listen to me.
“No, you don’t get to do that, you don’t get to pretend that everything is alright” she says, hatred prominent in her every breath.
I don’t know what to say…
She huffs out a laugh “Of course you don’t know what to say”.
Did I say that out loud?..
“Listen, according to the evidences, you committed the cri-“ I attempt to say but quickly get interrupted.
“It was planted” She said softly. But nothing about the statement was soft, it was quite literally the opposite of soft. I go still.
WHAT?!-
Her jaw clenches and she sighs “And you probably know by whom it was planted”. The abhor in her stance was back.
My father….?….
No..no…that can’t be it.
That’s not true. It can’t be true.
I run back home.
CHAPTER 3
One word is needed to describe this situation-
WHAT?!-
Well that’s more of a question than a sentence but yea.
WHAT IN THE ACTUAL WORLD IS GOING ON?!
So my plan is-
1) Trying to gaslight myself into believing that my father did not commit the murder.
2) Failing miserably in the above stated task (because it’s bound to happen).
3) Sneaking into my dad’s office at night.
So about the progress you may ask?
I’m already past the gaslighting stage.
Yay.
Now I just have to wait for night to fall down. So I have all this time to question my existence.
I don’t even know what’ll I do after entering his dorm. It’s not that it’s a restricted place or something, but I’d rather not take risks. Because the risk of being involved in this case is already massive. What happens if Bianca is right?
I-
I don’t know…
My father would be a criminal. A criminal whom I used to adore. We share the same blood, same looks, even the same mind in a way. But there is a line between good and bad. A line I didn’t know even existed. Good and bad are vaguely different words with the complete opposite meaning, yet somehow it works. Perhaps he never had good intentions or his so called “good intentions “ became his obsession and that obsession led him to an abyss of…murder. You’d think that, that line would be a sharp and poignant one, but it’s blurred, peculiar, unclear.
———————————————————————————————————
Nightfall has arrived. The time has come.
Am I dreading it?
Maybe, or maybe not.
I don’t know how to feel, what to feel.
It feels as if I’m numb and I haven’t even gotten to the actual part yet.
I approach his door slowly. He is in his bedroom, sleeping hopefully.
My heart beat just sky rocketed. You can practically hear it.
Oh god. Okay.
I turn the door knob anti clockwise, bit by bit, creek by creek.
The screeching of the door is surprisingly stealth. But I’m so hyperactive right now, I can practically hear the whooshing of the air.
One, two, three!
Okay I’m inside.
I start going through his case files. One by one. After a few minutes I find Amie’s case. It’s the most well hidden out of all. Not even a single mark, stain or anything. Pristine.
Okay I’m about to do this.
Okokokokok. Deep breaths. In and out.
I find a note.
“Amie found out. Take care of it.”
I stop breathing. My heart stops. And I scream. Inside.
CHAPTER-4
Trustworthy shouldn’t be a word in existence, for its utility is zilch.
I just saw a father being a murderer.
No.
I just saw MY FATHER being a murderer.
He killed Amie Salvin.
Why?
Better question is
What now?
I’m too numb to think of anything for a moment. But then I spot another document. Amie was investigating my father.
She was uncovering corruption inside the Camden Police Department—bribery, tampered evidence, cases solved too easily.
Cases where innocent people went to jail.
And the centre of it all?
Detective Darrel Darren.
No. No no no no.
NO.
My fingers tremble, my throat tightens and I-
I lose my hope in reality.
Amie confronted him and he..he-
Took care of it.
…
I need to see Bianca again.
———————————————————————————————————-
“You were right” I say, panting as I practically ran like Usain Bolt to get here. “You were right, I was a big dumb idiot who was lost in her father’s chains”.
Bianca’s eyes soften, THEY ACTUALLY SOFTEN, NO KIDDING!
“What now?” I whisper.
“Nothing, because we can’t do anything” she sighs.
“I’ll confront to him, get him in jail”. I was feeling very Enola Holmes- esque at the moment, don’t judge.
She snorts “Righty”. Her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I will. I’ll confront to him today and then…we’ll figure it out”.
“Ok” she says.
Wait she said “ok”?
OH MY GOD SHE SAID “ok”!
“Ok” I say.
After a moment of silence, she says-
“You know, you can leave now?”
“Yup, right. Kay, bye”. I say.
That went okay right? She didn’t abhor my existence this time.
But now..
My father.
Oh dear lord.
Okay let’s do this.
CHAPTER 5-
I can’t do this. He..he is my father.
No Charlotte. No backing out, you have to do this.
I’m going to go in that kitchen where my father is cooking. I’m going to scream within all that I have left. And…just break my heart even more.
I go inside and slam the documents on the kitchen island.
My father lifts an eyebrow.
“You killed Amie”.
His lips pull up and that maniac has the audacity to smile. TO FREAKING SMILE.
It’s cacoethes to not just kill him there. That man right there is a true raving lunatic. A. Raving. Lunatic.
“Took you long enough sweetheart.” He remarks.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask, actually no I practically screech. Like nails on chalkboard.
He leans forward. His gaze is like ice. “I did what I had to do.”
“You let an innocent girl rot in jail to protect yourself.” The words come out shaky
He laughs, a laugh that shatters my body into a million parts. A laugh that makes me lost in my own labyrinth. A laugh that is no different than anathema.
“Yes.”
A shudder runs through me.
He’s not even sorry.
He doesn’t care.
He killed an innocent soul and he framed another innocent soul…killing her from the inside.
——————————————————————————————————————
I go straight to Detective Morgan, my father’s old partner. I lay everything on the table.
The note. The fake evidence. The motive.
He listens.
Then sighs and leans back.
"You realise," he says carefully, "your father is one of the most respected men in this department."
I stare at him. “So?”
“So… this won’t be easy.
Anger rises in my chest. “You know I’m telling the truth.”
Morgan looks at the files again. He rubs his jaw. “We’ll look into it.”
I clench my fists.
That’s not enough.
Bloody power. Only the powerful and influential have space in this world. And It’s atrocious.
CHAPTER 6-
Days pass.
Weeks.
Sleep? Out of the question .
Peace? Ha!
Out of the world.
And nothing.
No arrest. No news.
I storm into the station, slamming my hands on Morgan’s desk. “What’s taking so long?”
His expression is tense, but also almost mocking.
“There’s not enough evidence.”
My stomach drops. “Are you kidding me? You have proof of fabricated cases, a motive, and a handwritten note!”
Morgan sighs. “Charlotte, your father has influence. The judge, the police chief—they won’t sign off on an arrest.”
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
I never thought I was capable of having anger issues, but I so am.
"Then what will it take?"
Morgan hesitates. Then says, "A confession."
A confession.
From him.
The man who never slips up.
The man who manipulated an entire city.
How the hell am I supposed to make that happen?
My father and I aren’t even on talking terms. Shocking? I know, right?
Is anything in this world genuine?
——————————————————————————————————————————-
I see Bianca again. We come up with a plan. Well actually it was mainly her idea…but I contributed.
Okay *deep breath* let’s get this mendacious man in jail.
Darrel and I are eating dinner, not saying anything obviously.
I ask in a feeble voice.
“You remember that night, don’t you? The night…” I hesitate.
“ you took care of Amie.”
He sighs.
“Charlotte, leave it.” He commands.
I’m most literally terrified of this man. He can he be my father. How?…
“I just want to know.” I maintain my composure, or at least try to.
He studies me for a bit. For a second, I think he will remain silent but them, he says, with a villainous and unhinged smile on his face.
“She should have stayed out of my business.”
I look down on my plate, trying to stop the salt water drops in my eyes to stream down.
CHARLOTTE DON’T BLINK, DO NOT BLINK.
But at least, I recorded his confession.
His daughter for the first time, is one step ahead.
CHAPTER 7-
I take the recording straight to Morgan.
I’m shaking, this will determine Darrel’s fate.
He listens.
His face goes pale.
"This is it." His voice is barely above a whisper.
Oh my god. This is it.
This.is.it.
An arrest warrant is finally issued.
The next morning, my father is sitting in his office when the officers arrive.
He looks up as they enter.
His eyes flick to me.
I hold my breath.
Then—he smiles.
Like he knew this day was coming.
Like he’s almost proud of me.
The handcuffs click.
And just before they lead him away—
He leans in close.
"You’re just like me, you know."
He is almost…proud of me.
I’m not like him, he is a monster and I’m…not.
His words chill me to the bone.
Then he’s gone.
He was my father…
Did..did I do the right thing?
I did, right?
EPILOGUE-
Bianca Mile is out.
And my father is in jail. And I got him there.
His own daughter….his own blood.
“You did the right thing”. A soft voice comes.
Bianca.
“Did I?” I ask…I know I did the right thing…
But that doesn’t change the fact that he is…no, was my father. He doesn’t deserve the father title anymore.
“Yes” she states.
We are on a bench, in a park. We visited Amie’s grave.
Bianca said that Amie has finally somewhat attained peace.
“This is a very different reality than what I had imagined.” Bianca says. I give her a puzzled look because I don’t understand a thing that came out of her mouth.
She says again “Only last month I had imagined me kicking you and vomiting on your blond hair”
Ew. I’m fine with the kicking part but vomiting?
“You detested me that much” I say, a small smile creeping in my face.
She chuckles “You have no idea”.
The small smile on my face fully widens, and mind you, my smiles have always been a rare sight.
“What now?” I whisper softly.
“We live”. She whispers back
We live.
Her promise echoes throughout my heart.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
THE END.
