"Revelations."
Isis.
Sunday morning.
Isis was seated in church, in a trance state.
She was fazed by how Ignatius could just kill himself like that. And also perplexed that her mother was having an affair with the Mayor.
She wasn't sure if she could call it an affair because her father was dead after all. But what she found baffling was, why would she hide that she was seeing another man? Let alone, sleeping with him in their home. And on top of that, they weren't even married. Everything about it was wrong and that proved that her mother was not as perfect as she had made herself out to be and this gave Isis some sort of comfort for her own sacrileges.
Isis had placed her ears against her mother's door and bent to peep into the keyhole, unveiling the whole mystery.
But her mind reverted back to Ignatius.
Was it the pressure he felt of having to keep their conversation away from Alejandro? No. That's too shallow to take your own life over.
Or maybe he confessed to Alejandro that he had actually lied and then ended up killing himself because he could no longer live with the guilt. Or maybe he wanted me for himself and made up the whole story to throw Alejandro's game off - which was partially true.
She shook her head and sat up in the bench she was seated on as the congregation listened attentively to what the pastor was getting heated over.
John 8:44.
"...You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies..."
It suddenly hit her.
What if he was killed because he tried to warn me about Alejandro, the one who is of his father, the devil?
She suddenly felt her chest closing in on her heart. She needed to get some air.
She excused herself as she tried to squeeze past the masses in her row, where she was seated, right in front.
She walked down the passage of the congregation in a crazy haste, barged out of the doors and started pacing the front porch of the church, in a Taraji. P Henson manner.
I'm going crazy. It can't be true. I can't be a good judge of character because I've just met these two men and I can't really say if any of the things I've heard and thought of ,are actually solid.
She placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, inhaling and slowly exhaling. Her breath was rapid and shallow.
She flung her eyes open when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
Alejandro.
The first day that Alejandro had seen Isis, he had made it his personal mission to attend services at Isis' church every Sunday, just so he can easily worm his way into her life.
She still hadn't called him so he had to go and find out why.
He had felt a sting of guilt after he listened to what the pastor was saying about murder, from the back of the congregation.
But he didn't believe in God anyways so he took out his phone and started replying to his emails, totally blocking out the sermon.
He had killed so many people in his lifetime before and had always passed them up to be accidents. Ignatius' case had not been any different.
His men had wiped down the whole of Ignatius' apartment of Alejandro's fingerprints, and had placed Ignatius' own fingerprints onto the gun Alejandro had used in killing him. It was a classic murderer move.
He had chosen a back seat because he did not want anyone's attention reverting back to him. So he had quietly crept in, and slid into a bench that was totally void of people.
He put his phone back into his pocket and tried to spot Isis.
He saw her practically run out of the church and decided to follow her, because after all, that was the only reason why he was wasting his time sitting in a damn church with a bunch of people he had most probably harmed in one way or another.
The thought made him uncomfortable and he immediately got up and rushed out the door, after Isis.
Church was darn weird man, all they try to do is to make you feel bad about living like a god. Bullshit.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Isis, pause in her pacing, as if she was in deep thought.
She was troubled and he didn't understand why.
He stood there quietly, admiring her lovely figure, outside of a damn church, for just one second, before he decided to catch her attention.
"Isis."
She jumped at his voice and swiftly turned to face him, sending her wild curls flying. Like an Indian movie.
She looked extremely surprised to see him, and also...terrified?
Isis.
Talk of the devil.
"Alejandro? What are you doing here and how did you know..."
She thought of the last week Sunday when she had first seen the black Jaguar parked parallel to the church and wondered if that must have been the first day that he had seen her or was that one of his employees.
Ignatius perhaps?
"Never mind that," he replied.
"I was feeling a profound emptiness after I lost my driver and my confidant. So I decided to come and speak to God, in the only church that I knew of and here you are, funny how destiny works."
Aha.
She raised an eyebrow and cracked a small smile, while shrugging her shoulders.
"I can't believe he's gone. One minute he showed up on the balcony of my room unannounced and in hiding, next thing he's dead..."
She looked at Alejandro in the eye, he didn't even flinch.
Of course that suggested that he could not be guilty but at the same time a person who is genuinely grieving or is in deep pain, would react to the mention of what would be the possible cause of their pain, right? And why doesn't he ask about Ignatius' visit to my room, at the mention of it. Did he ready know about it perhaps? This now suggested that Alejandro was indeed a cold-hearted man, right?
She let her thoughts take over her being as she waited for Alejandro to answer her.
She then witnessed him take out a handkerchief and turned away from her.
She watched him wide-eyed as he began to cry, silently.
She was caught off-guard and slowly approached him, contemplating on whether she should comfort him or just let him relieve himself of his distress.
Now she was lost again.
You know what, this is crazy. It only happens in movies. Ignatius killed himself because of his own problems. I knew nothing about what he might have been going through and it wasn't in my place to judge anyone, let alone somebody who had practically saved my life. Let me give this situation the benefit of the doubt.
She slowly placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it, comfortingly.
Alejandro.
Alejandro had finally understood why Isis was troubled.
He knew it in his soul that she had suspected him for Ignatius' death. Hence her daunting looks and quite spirit. He knew she was one who spoke alot, too much in fact. And she had looked frightened upon seeing him. Smart girl, he thought.
But I'm more intelligent, and I know that you respond to emotions. Besides, you have nothing concrete to base your suspicions on except that he was at your house to rat me out. And the next thing, poof.
He casually took out his handkerchief from his pocket, turned away from Isis, and began the cinema.
His handkerchief was already infused in peppermint oil because he knew something like this would happen, so instead of forcing out tears, all he needed to do was place the handkerchief to his eyes and the tears would flow.
Alejandro being Alejandro, he was always well-prepared. The animal.
And surely, Isis began to comfort him.
Smooth.
Isis.
Isis was home, and was zoning out as she sat on her favourite chair, 'seemingly' watching a documentary program and thinking about Alejandro.
Even if he was a cold-hearted and calculating man, Isis did not believe that Alejandro could have been capable of murder. He had a face like thunder but she knew he had a heart of gold.
He had been so broken, and she had felt compassion for him.
She erased all of her conspiracy theories as all she had seen was a broken man who needed healing.
Am I going to be the one that will do that? I've always read about such stories in romance novels. Where the girl meets a cold-hearted man and melts his ice.
But, something told her that this story was going to be different from any other.