Sonia's legs kept propelling her forward, deeper and deeper into the fields. Behind her were wild dogs, chasing not just her, but the flock of sheep, now scattered in varying directions.
"Help!", she cried out. Her legs dared to not give up on her; not at that moment.
How did I even get here? She questioned herself. She turned back to keep in check the pace of the never-relenting dogs.
They were gaining in on her.
Bump! And Sonia was lying flat on the floor. She held her hand up her temple, nursing the stinging pain. Before her, sat a huge oak tree.
I remembered running on an open field. How did this get here?!, she screamed at her insides.
The intense stumps reminded her of the dogs chasing. There was no use trying to get up anymore. Her head was throbbing in pain and blood trickled down her blouse. Close to blacking out, she caught a glimpse of a man, standing at the perimeter of the fields, holding out his hands.
To her.
"Save me," she managed to whisper. The dogs took a huge leap, ready to puncture their canines into her skin.
"Jesus Christ!"
Eyes wide-opened, brows raised, hairs standing erect, Sonia observed her surroundings.
The Lovers Road.
The very spot where she had died.
***
"... join me on my next live stream, guys. See ya!"
Bella exited Instagram and proceeded to place a phone call. Her plastic smile had immediately wavered, and her frown was so intense it would be better the person on the other end doesn't get to realize it.
"Hey – "
"Hold it right there, Susan. You promised you were going to be here by morning, and now, I just had to end the live stream – my live stream. Do you know what this means for me?!"
"My goodness, Bella. Why not check in on your bodyguard? Ask him about the lady he had refused entry into your home. I am a stranger now, yeah?"
"Oh," Bella took a long pause, "are you still – "
"Would I be answering your calls if I had left?!" Susan barked.
"Hold up, bitch. Take it easy," she got up from her bed, propping her glittering gown. "I'm coming. Would be out in 1'."
Susan rolled her eyes, "You betcha."
Bella ended the call, a sly smile forming at the corners of her lips.
***
"I know you didn't invite me here to just sit and have wine with you, babe," Susan purred, locking her phone, "talk to me."
Bella sighed softly, taking a long sip from her glass. "You are right, hey," she whispered, faking a smile, "and now that you are here, I find myself not wishing to discuss anything."
Susan broke into a short chuckle, "So what? Need me to exercise those pussy lips of yours?" she asked, her eyes glaring at Bella flirtatiously. And teasingly.
"You are not dumb to see that my sister is close by, huh?" she gestured to the dining hall.
"Oh please, you can't keep your identity hidden forever, can you?" Susan snapped, dropping her glass of wine.
"Not everyone can be like you, Suzie."
A long silence clouded the atmosphere, tightening the insides of Bella and Susan. Susan forced a smile, her gaze fixated on Bella's face.
"I'd take that as a plain expression, but hey, I accept me for who I am. I love being free with my skin, so far as it brings me money. I don't care what anyone says; be it my family or some random bitch living blocks away," Susan hissed.
Bella chuckled, "I don't know why you aren't giving in to that guy already."
"What the f*ck, b*tch!"
"Come on, girl. I know you two are into each other."
"We aren't deviating from this, Bella."
Realizing her scheme wasn't working on Susan, Bella went mute.
"What I'm trying to point out is this, my dear. You being you isn't a crime. Yeah, I do this business for the bills and shit, but trust me, it's not just that. It's what defines me; a part of me. Running my hands through my unclad self ... it's a feeling more sensual than any man can give me. You must be thinking ... what about people? Your followers? My goodness, Bella. Why were they present in the first place? You have the content they want, baby! Good or bad deeds, they will always have something to say!"
"And your family?" Bella chipped in, "you don't care what they say?"
"They will get used to it."
Bella groaned, "You are one hell of a friend."
"I know," Susan chirped and they both chuckled.
"I really love Dele."
"I can tell, babe. If really you feel safe, comfortable and content with him, you'd have to come out clean. I have checked him out on countless occasions. He definitely knows my status, yet he doesn't judge me. Same as his family. Not just him, but his entire family genuinely loves you for who they believe you are. And you love him for who he truly is too. If you want to define true love, there must be a balance."
Bella buries her head in her palm, "Oh, goodness."
Susan takes a seat next to her, placing her hands on Bella's back, "It sounds like a sacrifice demanding for too much, but if you believe deep down in your heart that you love him, then this is the only way to acknowledge it."
"I feel so scared. I have found something so real, and it's coming at the cost of ..."
"Take it easy, Bella. Come on," she nudged Bella playfully. "Or maybe you'd drop Dele and take your career to the – "
"Shut it, b*tch, Bella cried out, laughing.
It took a while for Susan to repair Bella's mood.
"Just give me a call when he comes around," Susan called out as she walked out of the mansion.
"Alright," Bella responded, faking a smile.
Susan stared at Bella for a moment before unlocking her car, and before she drove off, she whispered into Bella's ears:
"You'd have to come out with your true identity eventually."
***
A loud screech marked the entrance of Dele as his car halted before the end of Winter's Street.
"Parkinson's", read the huge inscription on a metal plaque sitting on the stone walls that bordered the sixty-apartment building. His eyes glared down at the bag sitting on the front passenger street, flashes of the crash replaying in his head. A short gasp later, and he summoned the courage to step out of the car.
He binge-watched movies. 'Lots' of movies, so he wasn't going to be having any sort of problems dealing with being the one who breaks the sad news about Sonia Martins to her family.
Maybe.
He takes in a deep breath and walks up to the gate, pressing his now icy fingertips on the little buzzer close to the gate. Almost immediately, a scruffy voice came through the intercom.
"State your name and your purpose of visit?"
Oh, hey, I am Dele. Dele George, the one responsible for the death of one of the occupants of the many apartments here. Can I come in?
"Are you going to keep on staring at the buzzer or let some words out your mouth?"
"Goodness," Dele whispers, shaking his thoughts off, "sorry about that. Erm, I am Dele George, and ... I'm here to see Sonia Martins."
Silence. Dele could picture an army of soldiers behind that gate, already prepared and waiting for him to get annihilated.
I'm screwed.
"Did you just say 'Sonia'?" the voice came through the intercom once more. The buzzer came off, and the gates creaked open slowly. Like a rabbit scurrying to find the nearest hole safe and away from flight predators, a bulgy man looking like he was in his late fifties walked briskly towards him.
"Come with me. Right now."
Dele raised a brow, "Alright."
Dele could have taken a few seconds off his thoughts and his aim of visiting, but the weight of guilt remained hung up on his shoulders, constantly reminding him of how ugly this could all turn out to be.
"How do you know Sonia?" the man asked.
Barely had they made it to the elevator, and Dele almost sees himself getting caught up.
Nice.
"Erm," Dele looked around, a million lies and excuses running through his mind, "I am a friend to Sonia."
"Oh,"
"Yeah. We lost touch years ago, and recently, I was surfing through the net and found out she lives here. In Kentucky."
They stepped into an elevator, which responded with a ding as they ascended.
"Close friends?"
"Co-workers. Just that we work in different branches now."
"I see."
Again, silence. It was so threatening Dele could feel it almost ready to choke him to death. Another ding later, and the elevator doors opened up, revealing the stunning internal architecture of the building.
"You'd get Sonia over there," he pointed towards the room on the extreme left end of the hallway.
"Thank you," Dele muttered, clasping the handbag and proceeding for the room.
"Excuse me, but isn't this – " the man snatched the handbag from Dele's grasp, "this is Sonia's. how did you get these?"
His calm and appealing expression was now replaced with 'that' look; one so questioning and investigating it was quite common with security guards. And this one was no exception.
Another lie, Dele. Just one more.
"That ... well," Dele gasped. His mouth just failed him; he had no idea what to say.
A chuckle broke the awkward silence. "I get it," the man chuckled softly, "she must have forgotten this at yours, yes?"
You know what to do, Dele.
"Right," he responded almost excitedly, "she visited – days back."
The man handed over the bag to Dele.
"Thanks."
"Tell me, the last time you saw her, she was doing alright, yes?"
"That's ... correct," Dele hesitated.
"Bid me a 'Hello' to her, would you? I'm surprised I haven't heard from her in days. Or the triple buzzer alert."
"Triple buzzer?"
The man lets out a short laugh, "Talk about the perks of living alone. She is extra careful about everything."
Dele stared at the room, eerie sounds clouding his mind.
"Have a great day, Mr George," the man hollered. Dele did not bother to reply; his gaze remained fixated down the hallway. The room.
Slow but careful steps he took, wondering why exactly he was doing this. Oh right, he wanted to find out about her relatives. But from who? The guard? Of course, not. He can just simply turn back and leave, maybe crack her phone and find out about her relatives. Dele smacked himself hard – in his imaginations – wondering why he hadn't thought of this before boycotting the day's work.
A dull thud came off; it was his forehead hitting the door. He was at the doorstep, and he didn't realize.
I should turn back.
"Hello," a muffled voice called out, "who's there?"
Dele turned back to the door sharply, his mind running in circles about a million ideas.
He mentioned she lived alone. So, how ...
The door swung open, and almond-shaped brown eyes stared back at him.
"Excuse me?", she raised a brow, carefully studying him.
Again, Dele's mouth failed him. Eventually, her eyes fell upon the bag.
"Where did you get those?" she pointed at the bag. Dele immediately realized: this could be someone who knows Sonia.
"I said, where did you get those?!" she shrieked, snatching the bag from him. Dele let out a muffled sigh.
"Who are you?" she asked, managing to keep her emotions under control.
"Dele. I have to explain something very important to you. About this bag – "
"Would you just – "
"About Sonia."
Hearing him mention Sonia seemed to shut her up, staring in awe how someone who knows Sonia isn't one whom she haven't met. Or heard about.
"Can I come in?" Dele asked, hoping that what came afterwards wouldn't be as ugly as he imagines it in his head.
Emily took a step back, glaring at Dele with glistened eyes filled with tears.
"Yes."